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aliasrocket · 1 year

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I’m probably not gonna be back for a long while so I thought I should probably post this before disappearing. It’s on my Rocket victorian au fic but this is the one snippet I’m confident of posting until more stuff happens. Mainly contains some premise on the status/vibe of Rocket’s relationship with you (let’s just say this is going outside my brand a bit but that’s a good thing for Rocket and you) but also a lot of world building, I’d say.

Gold melts at a much faster rate than silver.

But it’s all that surrounds him when he’s tapping his foot to the lackadaisical sway of the cello music that entranced the crowd into hypnotic unison. Every corner of the shining gold ballroom was another few pieces of thick frills sewn together to make dress skirts the size of escape pods on ships.

Everything on him touched him, groped him and squeezed him, and each breath he took to his ribs, it served as a reminder of how it had been encased in a pretty little bow—yet everything hung from him like a large flag.

Fuck the puffy sleeves. Fuck the waist fitted vest. The white glimmering on the tips of chandeliers were a simulation, a mere illusion for these so called ‘aristocrats’ who demonize leaving the planet and honestly think they’re better off.

There is nothing more divine than tasting bliss in a sole person at the tip of your tongue and severing the limb only to keep the writhing flesh in your pocket.

Rocket gets it now; yes, he looks up at the hypocrisy, piano keys pressing into the gaps of his head, and he knows there are gaps, he thinks about it all the time—and in the blinding glow of gold and artificially carved wealth and satisfaction, lies this; when blind to your own capabilities it is you who causes utter destruction.

These people were blind to their own true capabilities; so far behind on technology that could cultivate a better society, a society not built off the backs of their own people—that they’re unable to progress at all. Just as Rocket had been blind to just how far he could dig a knee in the puddle of blood soaked tears if it meant witnessing you give the sun the will to rise.

And suddenly, the gold chandeliers don’t look like gold chandeliers at all. No, they’re yellow-lit lanterns hanging above a sweaty, miserable bar, something born out of a scene he’d recognized on Knowhere—only these people button a corset over their shame and wear a coat over their guilt-ridden sleeves.

Rocket thought about the comm device in his pocket when the trumpets swayed along to a soft tune, though it was really a phone—nonetheless, you were a few clicks away.

The image of you was a few clicks away.

Groot had somehow learnt to waltz along to the frilly crowds of women watching him in a circle. Kraglin was talking to another lady with a ridiculous hat and a cream dress by the side. Any one word Adam uttered picked up a swoon from the dames and a ‘tsk’ from the gentlemen. Well, they’re not really gentlemen now that Rocket had thought about that.

He remembered why he was here. Right. He had impressions to keep up. People to please. But it’s better than being a broke bounty hunter alone and starving.

It’s better than being alone period.

His hands warmed up in the loose fit of his pockets. His blunt nails tapped against the metal of his comm. That’s great.

“You’re entirely underdressed, Rocket.”

A younger girl dressed like a woman nudged him in the slightest, though Rocket had honestly been amused by the fact that she had been able to determine where his arm rested when it was veiled by his large, almost inflated sleeve.

“Well, I’m sorry.”

Yep, he was stopping there. No way was that word sitting patiently on his tongue, nope. This isn’t who the name was made for.

“Well, you ought to be, but not for me; my mother had done something you’re not going to enjoy,” she encased her lower lip with the upper one, making it curl into a cheeky smile.

“What—”

“My beloved guests.”

It was almost like a large gear had shifted in the ballroom, all heads rigidly turning towards the high balcony, some imaginary spotlight coming around to a dress that somehow held onto the thousands of layers of frills, all a different shade of white and brown. The lady was a pile of walking clothes with earrings and probably a necklace.

Rocket was beginning to think the waist fitted vest that unfortunately accentuated his figure hadn’t only been squeezing his guts into a corner—but apparently some of his brain juice too. Even though his head and his vest hadn’t been remotely touching.

A gentle stream of violin music completely breaks the rest of the sounds to silence. How many instruments do these people have? Do they use them to travel too?

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the acceptance of our commission to the guardians of the galaxy. We very rarely welcome guests into our planet but they will be bringing down our biggest enemy; I shall not speak of them during such a joyous occasion and instead announce my welcoming gift to the guardians!”

The queen lifts her skinny glass of champagne and the crowd turns to the guardians nearest to them, clapping and tipping their hats off in polite greeting.

“My only daughter, the princess, Taine Alphonsene Villin—”

“That’s a bit much.”

She giggled, almost hiding in Rocket’s neck when she covered her mouth. He felt her breath in his fur and it occurred to him just how close she was.

“—shall dance with the leader of the guardians to commemorate our alliance!” The queen declared, lifting her chin in Rocket’s direction.

Rocket’s chest gave a low croak as the ballroom’s gears shifted to him. Beady eyes blinked back and forth between you and her. The …

Nope. Still hate it. Tastes like his own betrayal in his mouth. Or was that the gold corroding at the toxicity of this planet’s societal system?

He couldn’t stop the hand rising to meet hers halfway. She took it, of course she did, but after the five minutes Rocket had gotten to spend with her since he got here his mind had already tricked him into thinking maybe she would see that he was stretching to the far corners of his face for a smile, that maybe she cared enough to notice his hand shook under the weight of air.

“It’ll be over soon,” she whispered, and Rocket’s eyes flickered over, his head almost following suit but instead settled for a very slight pivot towards her.

His eyes lined her lips, her chin. A smile curled on her face but only a little, one edge of it being bitten down like her smile was something forbidden.

Her eyes were intent on his own. He saw it in his periphery. Their heads were almost touching. The corners of his mouth were still strained back against the sides of his muzzle.

The crowd paved a way for them in the center, everyone pushing back to form the straightest line Rocket had ever seen people make, like they were used to this kind of thing. Minions in a row all lining up for their nightly dose of delusion.

“I don’t think I can do this—”

“I know, but I had no say in it.”

Her response was immediate, and for a split second Rocket saw her the way he saw the synthetic glint of the gold that had been shoved up his corneas since his arrival; fake wasn’t the right word, no. He observed the palace long enough to know it’s all real gold, heavy and dense, but he remembered a quote from some brain dead poet you introduced him to.

All that glitters is not gold.

Will Shakes? Doesn’t matter. If he’d told you what he’d thought you might laugh and go, Rocket, you just said it was real gold. It’s confusing, and he’d tell you you’re insane for idolizing some great poets and still missing the life support of poetry; subtext.

Not that he cared about all this art stuff anyway. He was just a good listener, and you happened to be his favorite radio to tune into.

Wealth and beauty was synonymous but Rocket disagreed. He found the princess disagreed too.

Until he found that maybe she didn’t.

The center was the brightest point in the entire room; generally the planet had the fortune of cold weather but tonight had been the most heat he’d been under since leaving Knowhere. Now the lack of color showered him and the girl who’s hand he still held.

It didn’t help that her fur was white already as it is. It helped a little that she had curly back hair, though he doubted the curls were real.

His right hand, like a logged program, moved down to the dip of her waist, the smallest point, she was only eighteen, after all—and her hand slid over his shoulder, with the other meeting his own in the assumed ballroom stance.

Locked into place, with just one remaining requirement; his eyes.

When he finally looked up to meet her bright green ones, he gave the crowd one last scan, and the very first person his eyes meet—

No.

No no no no no no—that can’t be right.

His eyes tunneled onto the beautiful woman standing first in the crowd, some eyed her with annoyance and rolled their eyes, but she was unmistakably beautiful—she had been the only woman in the ball to have the brown skirt just fall to her ankles, no inner structure to widen it. Rocket was sure black boots weren’t even allowed to the ball, and just like him, she wore a puffy-sleeved dress shirt and a large brown bow to match. Frills still laced the outfit, but it hadn’t been nearly as sickening as the others. She became a blur almost instantly, and he turned back to the princess only to find she was blurry too.

His vision struggled to refocus, like a light flickering on and off, so he looked back at the woman in the crowd again.

That face.

He’d only seen it in his comm for days on end, monotone and flickering under the static lines. You were a flat image, a call and a lightyear away. Now you were the beautiful woman holding Rocket’s gaze hostage.

His head ran into all the corners in his skull, his heart using his brain as a punching bag as it continued to bruise. His jaw wouldn’t close. Eyes began to look like cells under a microscope, moving, alive, squirming at him.

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #rocket gotg #gotg vol 3 #rocket raccoon x you #gotg fanfiction #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon imagine #gotg v2 #gotg3 #gotg rocket #gotg vol 2 #.alias.ao3.updates.#.alias.drabbles.imagines.

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darkdevasofdestruction · 1 month

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Chapter 8 - Wǒ de Huxian

Katrina didn't spend a long time at the Phantomhive manor, despite receiving the noblewoman luxurious treatment that she deserved, and having the comfort of a demon watching over her, making sure she had a restful, safe sleep, there was still something about her home, the funeral parlor. She wasn't sure why she had gotten so attached to such a place, let alone go as far as to call it her safe haven, the place where she felt most comfortable. Was it that the home was small and cozy? Or was it the company of the eccentric mortician who did such an active job to care for her and make sure she was doing well.

Given his underground connections, he was often informed about the moves of her family, in case they tried to go out of their way and seek her out. It wouldn't be too hard, Katrina thought, considering the Queen knew of her, and though she hadn't received letters at the parlor, Ciel got them all at his mansion, thus, everyone would easily be able to track her down. She couldn't help but wonder if her parents were involved in this mess with Kelvin, but in a way, she doubted, considering he was more like a cheap rip-off, than a real threat with real ties to the cult.

Still, Undertaker became a solid father figure for her as soon as he allowed her to stay over at his home - Never would she have expected to get so close to the weirdo, but truly, she was thankful for everything that he's done for her, and how well he treated her. Everything he did, it almost felt as though he did for her. It didn't matter to Kat whether that was true or not - If it worked in her advantage, she wasn't going to complain.

"Little songbirds like yourself belong in a cage, my darling." she heard the mortician speak all of a sudden. "Look at you - I keep you safe and sound here, yet as soon as you step out of your enclosure, someone tries to snatch you away and make roast quail out of you. How can I rest easy at night, knowing that the Earl isn't taking proper care of you?"

Kat looked up from the cadaver she was working on, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the man. "Ciel had an asthma attack. I got kidnapped while Sebastian took him to the doctor. There can't be much he could have done in that regard." she explained awkwardly. "Besides... There was that annoying Reaper there also. Going out of his way to warn me to stay out of trouble under the pretext of caring for a child, only to end up completely disregarding my danger - He is no better."

"I agree, little nightingale, there is nothing worse than the hypocrisy of Reapers." Katrina looked at him with a blank expression.

"You knew of Reapers before I first mentioned them, didn't you?" the man grinned dryly, only to completely deflect the conversation.

"I might even be tempted to pull you out of school - If even among a bunch of humans, some of which, your guardians, and you still got so severely damaged - Well, how can I, in good health, allow my dear little fox to get hurt, hmm~?" the man picked the skeleton he had on display, waltzing around aimlessly through the room.

"I am going to die anyway. What's the point of worrying about me?" Katrina stood up, wiping her hands with a towel, only to get startled by a loud thud and the sound of rattling bones rolling to the ground.

"What ever could have convinced you of such folly?" for once, the man looked rather... Nervous. Uncertain even, perhaps, if she could even call it that.

"Considering you know more about Reapers than I do, perhaps you are familiar with this little book they carry around." Kat said, walking over to him and kneeling, she started picking up the skeleton as though it was some discarded ragdoll. "I stole it from Will. Searched my name. Found my time of death... Relatively speaking, at least." she hummed, only to get snatched up, the bag of bones falling and spreading around the wooden floor.

"And are you going to listen to some ink on paper?" he asked in a somber voice, his nails digging into the material of her dress. "Are you going to keel over and die on me? Just like that?" Katrina couldn't help but chuckle softly, her hands going up to cup his face. "I just turned 18, Undertaker. I have a whole life ahead of me. It is MY life. I'm not just going to let some jerk take what's mine, you know? I am rather possessive over things that I own." she smiled tenderly at the man. "Don't tell me you're going to miss your little apprentice?"

"Life is the most precious thing a human has, little fox. Don't play around like that." he muttered. "There's only so much death an old man like myself can handle."

Katrina felt her heart shattering in pain at the mellowed words the melancholic mortician spoke. One of her hands trailed up to brush the fringe from his eyes, only to see the glowing green Reaper eyes. "I see now. Only an immortal would know the suffering of watching everyone around his perish." she sighed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Don't you worry. I have no intention of just handing over my life. It was you who showed me that life has meaning, and it is worth living. It was you who gifted me so many opportunities. For you, no matter what, I will live. I promise you that."

"Since when did you know?" the silver haired man asked, resting his chin on her head.

"Since I found out that a Death Scythe is supposed to cut through anything, but Grell's chainsaw was blocked by the sword you gave me." he hummed in understanding.

"To think you'd be figuring things out so swiftly. I am glad my little apprentice is so bright... But to think you'd be brought down to the underworld like that... Alas, the Queen's leash is going to strangle you to death, just like everyone else." despite his worries, he was met with a sweet smile.

"Now, now, Undertaker - What's life without a little risk, after all?" though Undertaker wasn't happy with that notion, he remained silent. That was exactly the same thing Vincent Phantomhive said, and look at him now, very much dead. There was little destiny spared. Life was a cruel crone, but the mortician was ready to fight her and alter the fate of those he held dear to him, yet lost indefinitely. "So, I was thinking!" suddenly, Katrina grinned at him, changing the mood entirely. "All Reapers I've seen have awful vision and wear glasses. How come you don't?"

"Well, dearie, I suppose one gets used to the disadvantage." he shrugged simply, only to see that mischievous grin, dazzling brightly.

"I can't imagine you wearing glasses, Undertaker - But! I think I've got something for you!" at once, Katrina sprinted back to her room, returning with a small box. She opened it, as though it was the velvet box of an engagement ring, and displayed before him two small, circular membranes. "Would you like to give it a try?"

"My, oh my, look at you, thinking so dearly of me - How could I refuse you, little fox?" with a giggle, the mortician snatched the box and waltzed to the mirror, somehow managing to put on the contact lenses without much difficulty, in spite of even those abnormally long nails of him. He blinked a few times, allowing the lenses to settle on his eyeball, before abruptly turning to the girl, his long fringe off his face. "These lenses make you even prettier!"

"Yes, that's right, you guessed it - I made contact lenses to have people see me as the prettiest girl alive!" she laughed merrily. "Jokes aside - How is your sight?"

"Definitely improved." the smile of excitement on her face was contagious, as the mortician, too, found himself smiling. "Keep it up and we might as well start a side business!"

"Yeah, a side-business for dumbass Reapers." the girl snorted at him. "I can't only be fighting Shinigami all the time. Might as well charge money for healing them too."

Katrina's health always seemed to flourish while staying home, but her long break had to end at some point, and return back to Weston. There was only so many absences she could be allowed, right? Or perhaps not, considering the unknown relations the Undertaker has, so that she can freely leave the campus at will for days and weeks on end, and face no repercussion. With her luggage packed and done, the mortician accompanied her to the train station like the gentleman he was. "Say... Undertaker... I was wondering something, if you don't mind me saying it out loud." Katrina cleared her throat as she got off the carriage, and they started walking towards the station. "Adrian Crevan... It is your name, isn't it? But you never tell anyone your real name, nor does anyone ever address you as anything else other than by your career's name. Why is that? It's a... A really nice name." she asked awkwardly, unsure of the proper words to choose.

"Now, now, aren't you a very curious little fox? It couldn't possibly be that you want to address me any differently than anyone else, could it?" his soft chuckle was met with silence for a few seconds.

"In fact, it is the truth. I do want to call you by your name. Whether it is your real one, a nickname, or something completely fabricated, I'd much rather call you by your name than a job. You are not defined as a mortician, no matter how much you want to. It'd be really weird if people on the streets would just call me something like... Doctress all the time!" she exclaimed comically, eying him with faux confidence, which, in turn, made those giggles turn into louder chuckles.

"Very well, very well, you may call you as you wish, I mind naught. Now, off you go, find yourself a nice seat by the window and may you have no difficulty with your classes." the man ushered her inside the train, but just before he left, Kat quickly turned to look at him with nervously, calling out his name.

"I, uh... You said you know the Principal. Do you think that... If I may have done something bad... Or, perhaps not done personally, but have been unintentionally implicated in something bad... That I may still be able to graduate somehow?" she asked him in a shushed voice.

"Don't you worry about such trivialities, my dear! If you need to hide a body, you know you can always count on me!" he laughed, and though it wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, it somehow calmed her down enough to let out an amused chuckle as well.

"That's good to know. Thank you... Adrian. I'll see you soon." and with a nod of goodbye and a quick hug, she rushed inside the train and thankfully, actually got that nice seat by the window.

Returning at Weston was, at first, a rather anxious experience, but as soon as she went inside her bedroom, in the eerily eccentric Purple House dormitory halls... As soon as she went to take a relaxing walk by the Gazebo and saw the Prefects so leisurely chatting and drinking lemonade, as per usual, she could only let out a sigh of relief and join them. All of a sudden, being in their company, all of her worries vanished altogether and she could lean back into Edgar's shoulder and enjoy the song that Cheslock was playing on the flute. Maurice brought some really nice strawberry cakes, Clayton continuously dusted around the place and Edward... Poor Edward looked as uncomfortable as ever being there with her present. Poor boy.

At last, the peace finally settled over everyone at Weston and things were looking greater than every. Even, thanks to some renowned doctors and specialists, the students were able to attend medical classes and lectures extracurricular from the actual courses, and Katrina finally felt like she was able to accomplish something whenever questions were asked and she knew how to answer to so many of them, whilst many of her fellow colleagues had no idea whatsoever. Brownie points for Undertaker! The many days spent learning about human anatomy and physiology were paying off. It was, by far, one of the greatest feelings there were... And Kat have to admit, she was enjoying this College environment very much, especially because most of the people she would hang out with were very friendly and didn't really bother getting uncomfortably private and nosy.

Now that the Easter holidays were quickly approaching, everyone was pretty much vibrating with excitement, wanting to go home to their parents and celebrate the family holidays... Sweet Edgar even invited her to party at his family. How could she possibly refuse him? She could never. Likewise, Edward invited her, albeit, extremely awkwardly, on Lizzy's behalf, to come over for the holidays, or at least meet at Ciel's, should he have an Easter Ball or something. Once again, the invitation was gracefully accepted.

She never realised how much fun social interaction could be, with the right people that is, so of course, how could she refuse when things don't have to revolve around fan conversations and champagne in flute glasses alone?

Few weeks before the vacation, however, Katrina was chatting and relaxing in the Gazebo with the other Prefects and their fags, only to spot a familiar white silhouette approaching. Surprised, she sprinted towards the man. "Mr. Crevan, how lovely it is seeing you after so long." the man chuckled, mocking her.

"Charles, what a surprise! Come over, we wouldn't want our conversation to be heard, do we?" she quickly held his arm, guiding him to a more remote part of the park, as they took a detour stroll through the many different, yet well-taken care of flower gardens.

"Does anyone actually get fooled by your poor disguise, Fox girl?" the usual amused tone of Charles Grey was never lacking.

"I have no idea, but as long as I can study here, who cares, really? I haven't had this much fun in my entire life." she chuckled, sighing as the mesmerising perfume of the spring flowers flowed around.

"Well, sorry to ruin the fun for you, dear, but Her Majesty, the Queen, is requesting your aid once again, little fox." and with that, he took out a letter from his pocket.

"Hmm... I see..." she hummed, reading the letter. "However, I have to ask, is this really okay? I did run away from home, I'm not sure how I, alone, can have much influence with such people from the higher circles. On the other hand... That puppy must be implicated in this plot as well, isn't he? I'm not sure how we can... Entertain the guest if not for his manor as a ball venue." she muttered, already scheming a ploy.

"On point as always, Kitty-Kat. The Queen always needs your wits and shrewdness, especially after what happened with the Pup's report of the Circus. He needs to gain back her trust, and you will have to keep an eye on him. But don't worry, I will be there too... In case you get kidnapped again by the enemies." he taunted her, making her gasp in complete disdain and humiliation.

"She told you that?! Oh, how very embarrassing! Listen, you...!" she huffed at him. "I was walking outside, completely absent-minded as I kept thinking of the evidence I found in those guys' circus tents while Ciel was having a severe asthma attack, and all of a sudden, I get hit in the head, and there's that! Next thing I know I'm kept hostage, I get mistreated, I black out, and then... Ciel got me out of there! Mind you, I have no idea what happened, I just woke up in his manor, and if that's not embarrassing, I don't know what is, Charles!" she exclaimed, incredibly indignant, as her cheeks turned slightly red from the shame.

"Good thing there's no way you'd be kidnapped in the Earl's on home, under my vigilant watch." he smirked, making her roll her eyes at his arrogance.

"Look. I have to go and make a paper for the Principal, telling him I have to leave the premises to go back home, and I have to pack up and return back to London. It will take a while, but-" however, mid-sentence, he cut her off.

"But nothing. Everything's already arranged. No need to pack, we're leaving right now! The Earl's already almost done with the preparations, all you have to do is go to his manor and have a talk with him about the details of whatever hell you're going to unleash." and with that, he completely turned her around with a twirl, and dragged her towards the exit of the campus.

"You are a completely insane man, Charles Grey! You really are insane!" she chuckled from surprise.

"No, dear. I'm just the Queen's Butler." he smirked oh-so-charmingly at her, opening the door to his carriage and helping her up.

"Bite your tongue." she rolled her eyes, looking out of the window.

"Would you~?" he sniggered, annoyingly teasing.

"...Yep." Kat clicked my tongue, chuckling at the surprise in his eyes.

"What a bold vixen we have here." the man chuckled, leaning back on his seat.

"That's why I ran away, Charles." she winked at him playfully, as the long way home was beginning.

As expected, Undertaker already knew about her timely return, and the first thing he did was take her to Nina so she could tailor a ball dress for her, all whilst he told her some of the business he discussed with Ciel, and that she need only attend the ball and be vigilant as always. Still, he seemed rather upset that he wasn't invited - Only she knew how much he loved waltzing. And such, the evening of the ball has arrived and it was outright raining cats and dogs, as if the Gods were ready to instill divine punishment and call forth the resurrection of Noah and his animal Ark, but thankfully, the umbrella was enough to keep her dry on the short walk from her carriage, to the mansion. With a quick scan, Kat noticed most of the guests have already arrived, with the exception of the guest of honour himself and a certain white weasel.

On the other hand, her favourite Chinese man and his sister were engaging in a rather interesting light talk and, of course, she couldn't not go and interrupt them. "Ni Hao, Lau, Ran Mao. How are you?" she smiled at them cheerfully, as Lau gasped dramatically before smiling, as per usual.

"Tian na, Katrina! Now I can truly see why the Queen loves her little fox so much!" he exclaimed so casually.

"Now, now, Lau, there's no need to flatter me... But if you want to continue, I won't say no either." she demurely covered her smirk with a gloved hand.

"Wǒ měilì de xiǎo hú xiān." he chuckled, bowing to take her hand and kiss it.

"I don't claim to be fluent in your language, however, I'm pretty sure you called me beautiful. And if you didn't, you should." she grinned, unable to stop herself.

"My beautiful little vixen, you truly are a Fox Fairy. If you have heard the tales of the nine tailed foxes, you wouldn't be surprised I believe you to be one of their kin." and thus, his hand caressed a strand of her long, carmine red hair, rather affectuously. "With how slender and graceful your figure is, I am sure the dresses from the Tang Dynasty would suit you so much better than these heavy, pompous ones, wouldn't you say, Ran Mao? Would you be willing to play dress up with Miss Fox and show her our pretty dances?" he asked, caressing his sister's face.

"Yes, yes." she nodded with as little emotion on her face as always.

"I would be honoured! I have never had the chance to learn anything about your culture, despite knowing each other for so long. Now then, I have interrupted your conversation with this lovely gentleman enough, how very rude of me. With whom do I have the pleasure?" she asked, turning her attention towards the shabby-dressed and very panicked man.

"I-I, no, n-not at all, miss! I'm an eye specialist and also a bit of a writer... Uhm... Nothing special at all! M-My name is Arthur." the poor man stuttered miserably.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Arthur. Also, as a person pursuing a medical career, I cannot accept seeing you underestimate your knowledge and capabilities. On the other hand... I do believe I may have read some of your work in the newspaper at some point. Those short stories, in fact, are rather brilliant. It's all about perseverance." she explained calmly as the man freaked out even more. "Ah, right, before I forget to introduce myself, my name is Katrina Raymond and I am the daughter of the High Court Judge, Duke Nicholas Raymond. Other than that, I am a medical student and I work at the Undertaker's parlor. Pretty fun, wouldn't you say?" she giggled teasingly, seeing him sweat nervously and very much intimidated.

"A-Ah, I don't know what to say, miss, uh... It's - It's an honour meeting you!" he managed to stutter after a long time.

"Whenever a fox meets a hound, things are bound to be interesting. Probably. After all, the Earl hates the staunch social life and is famous for being a rare character that hardly ever shows himself.

In fact, I do believe it's the first time that he's invited people into his own house!" Lau chuckled, teasing the poor man.

"Wha-... What kind of person is he?!" poor Arthur was almost dying from shock and fright.

"Hmm... Let's see... Basically, he has either a sour or angry look and extremely high pride. It's also said that he wears a pirate-like eye patch." the more Lau spoke, the more Kat laughed, especially at how the poor writer was shaking more and more.

"Why don't you leave your teasing of the guests at that?" Ciel's voice suddenly boomed from the top of the staircase.

"The depiction was pretty accurate though, I have to agree with Lau." the lady smirked in amusement.

"A child...?" Arthur gasped, looking in awe at the young earl.

"That tiny little child is Earl Phantomhive." Lau told the writer.

"Little was unnecessary!" Ciel grumbled, as he walked down the stairs, and put on his war smile. "Thank you for accepting my invitation today. I am Ciel Phantomhive, the Head of the House."

Soon after they finished their pleasantries, Charles Grey arrived with the Guest of Honour, Georg von Siemens, and thus, Sebastian began calling their names in order. Everything went weirdly according to drunk social etiquette and, despite not being numerous, people were obnoxiously loud. Poor Ciel couldn't even have a proper conversation with Arthur because Grimsby, the producer, butted in the conversation. The Baron got shitfaced drunk and started lecherously touching Katrina and Irene, but the vixen simply went to cling on Lau's free arm, just like Ran Mao, to avoid anyone bothering her.

The poor opera singer, however, was the last remaining, unfortunate target of his lechery, and she even had to slap him when he wouldn't let go of her, groping and spewing disgusting words. He, in turn, threw a glass of champagne at her, only to be completely blocked by Sir Knight Ciel who mediated the case pretty quickly. Grimsby, angered by his lover being assaulted by the shameless pervert, threw a champagne bottle at the lecher - Thankfully, Sebastian was there to save the day once again, do some flips in the air as though they were back at the circus and, as he perfectly landed on top of the ladder, poured flawlessly the champagne on the pyramid of neatly arranged champagne crystal glasses, making everyone gasp and stare in awe. Everyone was now merry and cheerful. Katrina went by Ciel's side and smiled pitifully at him.

"To think that our esteemed guest of honour would be such a disgusting lecher..." Kat muttered in French, knowing the code of those two well enough.

"So once that solemn man gets some alcohol, this is how he becomes? From the looks of it, he's a repeated offender." Ciel rolled his eyes as Sebastian was drying him down with a towel.

"Even so, showing how little self-constraint one has... I wonder whether he's just an immense fool or he knows no shame at all." Sebastian smiled, amused.

"Funny how appearances are all this society has and, in the end, even they all crumble to hell and show how wretched people can be." she sighed simply.

"He seems like the incurable type that would make a doctor hopeless." however, as he said that, a small, stifled laugh was heard, revealing that Mr. Arthur knew French well enough to understand the trio, and even be amused by their shady charade.

With the Baron having fallen asleep after drinking himself into a mini-coma, Sebastian had to get him to his assigned room while Ciel, very conveniently, went to sleep because he was a child. Kat, on the other hand, since there was nothing to fear anymore, decided to stay by Charles and indulge in some light drinking and small talk that easily turned into a dissing contest about their most interesting guests - the Baron being the first priority target.

Hours passed by with far more entertainment since Siemens was sent to his room, and everyone was having a great time, until, at some point of the night, they heard a loud commotion by said guest's room. With everyone going to investigate, they noticed Sebastian having to kick down the locked door. Force of a demon, how impressive. The way the man was blankly, limply sitting on the arm chair by the fire place seemed to indicate he was very much dead, and upon further inspection, as Kat went to verify his pulse, she realised, there was none.

"Alright, so, either he is very much dead, or he wanted to play the role of Romeo. The only problem is, he is the farthest thing away from a Romeo and I doubt there is any contender to the role of Juliet to begin with." Kat clicked her tongue sarcastically as she shrugged and stepped back, letting Arthur investigate the body as well.

"He's... He's really dead...!" Arthur's shocked... No, petrified expression made Mr. Phelps faint on the spot and a general panic took over most of the people present.

"This blood on his chest seems to come from a wound. I suppose that's the cause of death." Katrina explained simply.

"Isn't it kinda hot in this room?" Bard grumbled, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Yes, it is. I heated up the room before-hand, but... Maybe he was cold." Sebastian deduced.

"What's all the racket?" Ciel finally arrived, guided by Tanaka. As he noticed the dead body, he and Sebastian shared a suspicious look.

"Anyway, we shouldn't move anything until the Yard arrives." Grimsby spoke nervously.

"No. It'd be better if we move the body now. I can't say it any nicer than this... But meat rots faster than you might think. Even if we turn off the fire now, time will be up before you know it if he stays next to the hearth." Bard explained, revealing once again his unfortunate military knowledge.

"Bard is right. Not to mention... With a weather like this, the Yard isn't going to come any time soon. It is quite the storm, after all." the lady shrugged, looking with slight disgust at the weather.

"So you mean we can't leave here either?!" Woodley exclaimed in alarm.

"Why do you ask that now? It's fine, right? Everyone was meant to stay over anyway." Lau agreed with the vixen-like lady as Sebastian had Finny and Bard get a stretcher and move Siemens's body down to the cellar.

"Like you can call this fine! I'm not staying at a place where a murder took place!" Woodley cried out angrily.

"By all means, have fun going out in this storm by yourself, without a carriage and with such a long road ahead. On the other hand, it seems I have to point out the obvious. The killer is definitely among us. With such a weather, there is no way anyone else other than us could come inside without leaving heavy traces of water, mud and footprints. Not to mention, the window is locked from the inside, so no way of going out either." Katrina smirked, very much amused at the alarm of everyone else at such an accusation, as she could only look at Charles, who seemed to smile vaguely as well.

"WHY US?! This isn't a joke!" Grimsby, along with Woodley, agreed.

"Lady Kitty-Kat here is right. Moreover, not only this room is on the second floor, so there is no way of accessing it to and fro' the window, the door was also very much locked, therefore, no way of accessing this place." Charles came to her defense, approaching the window.

So this is where the real fun of this case begins, it seems. Absolutely splendid. Not only do they have a locked room murder, but they also have guests that would have no way of escaping out of the window, with such a weather. Now, now, Charles, you're playing dirty. Is this what you mean by entertaining the guest? How sneaky of you, little white ferret. Another theory that Grimsby came up with was that someone somehow had the key for the door, but Sebastian meticulously reassured everyone that no one could have accessed any of the manor keys other than himself. Ciel then pointed out the situation was much like a locked room murder novel and perhaps the thread and needle mechanism of locking a door from inside while you are outside was used. This, once again, instigated a lot of manic panic as everyone was hitting their chests and declaring they weren't the killers. How hilarious.

"Enough yelling. Let's hear your alibis." Katrina clapped her hands together loudly to get everyone's attention.

"Lord Siemens was killed after he had retired to his room... Actually, to be precise, it was between the time that the lord rang the servants bell and the time that the butler and co. arrived at his room. If you have an alibi to cover that time, you're safe." Lau shrugged carefree. He was enjoying the ruckus of the common folk.

"Also, we could keep in mind the fact that the killer may have rang the bell himself, solely for this situation to be created." she smirked very much amused.

"I and Irene were in the billiards room." Grimsby and Irene testified.

"I was in there too, with Lady Kat." Grey chimed in quickly. Katrina nodded also at that statement.

"So were me and Mr. Phelps." Arthur said, by the fainted one's side.

"Yep. For the whole time, from the moment that Lord Siemens went to bed, up until the disturbance, we were all in there. During that time, no one left their place either." Charles continued.

"What were you guys doing?" Ciel asked, looking at Lau.

"We were drinking in the lounge with Mr. Woodley. Weren't we, Ran Mao?" the man said, as the girl in his arms nodded simply.

"Right! We were together the entire time before the commotion started! If I remember correctly, after midnight, the alcohol ran out and we had the butler fetch us some more, right?" Woodley pointed out.

"Yes, I brought it to you at around 12:10." Sebastian confirmed.

"U-Us servants were all cleaning up together!" Mey-Rin managed to stutter up quickly.

"First and foremost, none of us even knew what room Siemens was staying in. To find him in such a large mansion would take quite the time, right?" Grimsby completed the idea.

"Which means..." and thus, all eyes were sent on the young Earl.

"Excuse me for asking, Earl, but what were you doing at the time?" Lau asked, in a smooth, sly manner. And since Ciel has no provable alibi, Lau went on to drill the suspicion onto him thus, he was the one accused, despite what the servants tried to say in claiming his innocence.

"I'd like some insurance." Charles said, stoically, yet very much accusatory. "Insurance that we'll get out of here alive. This mansion is currently under the control of a killer, you know? And we can't get out until this storm settles down. What if we were all 'gagged' before the storm settles?" his voice was now somber and menacing.

"Let's confine him!" Lau's cheerful idea made everyone gasp in shock. What a monster - Kat had to stifle a laugh.

"If we're going to confine him, it can't be in his own room. Nobles' rooms generally have some kind of secret escape route built in. My place has them too." Charles pointed out, and Kat could only nod in agreement.

"Well then, we'll keep an eye on him while attending to his -" Sebastian tried to say, but was quickly cut off by the tradesman.

"That won't do, seeing as you might help the earl." Lau smiled serenely.

"That means one of the guests has to keep watch over him." Katrina point out, looking around.

"And that can't be you either, Miss Fox." Charles said merrily, making her shake her head and chuckle. Of course, everyone else declined until finally, the Chinese man designated Arthur to keep watch over Ciel as Charles took out the chains and shackles very, very happily to bind the poor earl.

First, Sebastian went to tuck in Ciel, while everyone else went by to their rooms to prepare for sleep. Kat, on the other hand, searching for danger as always, as soon as she got in her sleeping wear, went out to search for the magical butler. By the time she found him, he was holding a pillow to his torso, looking rather annoyed. Such that she could only chuckle and lean on the wall, tsk-ing in amusement.

"My, My, Mr. Sebastian, how fareth thou?" Katrina grinned, seeing as he discreetly removed the pillow for a split second, revealing the blood spot on his clothes.

"Wonderful now that I am seeing you, considering the events of this dreadful night." he replied, his sneaky, devilish expression back on his face.

"Charles Grey truly has no qualms now, does he?" she chuckled, shaking her head at his childishness.

"Yes, indeed, I would have to say he is quite ruthless. By how aggressively he impaled me, I am tempted to say he has a personal vendetta against me." he replied acidly.

"Competing for the Butler of the Year award or something?" she teased him, only to earn a sigh from him.

"There is no possibility of losing to such a man. Now then, My Lady, as it seems very likely you are completely unbothered by the cold, how about you help me out with our well-planned scheme?" he asked as he completely disposed of the pillow.

"What, you want me to stab you too?" she mocked him, only to see the smirk on his face widening.

"Certainly." he spoke with such is that it almost surprised a shocked expression on her face.

"Is it Christmas? To what do I owe this wonderful gift of an opportunity?" she couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Wouldn't it be positively wonderful, seeing the confused look of Mr. Grey's face as he wonders why exactly was I stabbed twice, instead of once? The fear and possibility of being more than one culprit, after all? Or a new party involved that may have been hiding quietly inside the manor?" his feline eyes flashed magenta, and she could only grin mischievously at him.

"But that's a pity, you're going to leave me all alone. How dull my time spent here will be. Surely, you as well, will get bored by staying alone, in the cellar, until I and Ciel finish this whole mess." Kat pouted in mock pity, only for him to tower over her, then bend to her height.

"One wouldn't have said that, considering how well you were getting along with Mr. Butler and Mr. Lau. Is it, perhaps, that one demon alone is not sufficient in satisfying a lovely kitten's spoiled needs?" by the way he devilishly smiled, so wickedly, Kat could see his fangs sticking out just enough to offer a very attractive view.

"That may have been the case, should I have been a mere kitten. I, however, pride myself with being quite the vixen. On the other hand, considering how you very much neglected me since I have arrived, on the pretenses of being a pristine butler taking care of your master, I would say, I quite needed my fix of a good enough company and entertainment... Alas, not splendid enough for my esteemed needs, unfortunately." oh, how much she missed these back and forths with this demon.

"Very well, Lady Fox, to my understanding, you are unsatisfied by my lack of attention and affection towards you, is that right? My, but that would be such a big ink blot on my pristine ethics that it would be impossible to clean. May I, in any way, rectify my mistake and attitude towards you, my lady?" as such, he took off his glove and caressed her face, lifting up her chin so she would look directly into his hypnotizing eyes.

"You may... Alas! Sebastian, you are supposed to be dead, therefore, for the next many days, you will be unable to do as you claim to so desire, how dreadful! Worry not, I promise to be the main hand in preparing you for you funeral, I am sure you would very much love that, wouldn't you?" she cheekily tilted her head, as, very subtly, she could see him flicking his tongue, as if very consumed by a certain demonic gluttony.

"I can only imagine the hedonistic pleasure My Lady would offer me as she so would delicately touch my flesh and awaken desires that no other human has been able to ignite in a long time." the way he was licking his lips as if they were painted with the sweetest aphrodisiac of lust seemed to have an effect on anyone who would ever dare look him in the eyes.

"Speaking of desire... If we stand so close to each other... So close that you can feel my breath on your skin, my words in your mouth... Can you feel the tiniest tint of my soul? Is it as appetizing and unsatiable for a demon as the Last Supper was for Jesus? Is it worth all this teasing, all those animalistic urges you so desperately try to keep under control? Is it quintessential? Is it something without which you couldn't continue calmly living on?" the more she approached, the more shushed her voice became, until she was sure no human ears would be able to hear them, yet he could, perfectly in fact. So perfectly, her lips almost touching his, as she mimicked his temptation discourse.

"If I didn't know better, I would assume you are not only a lustful demoness, but a succubus. A vixen you are, indeed, and a truly spoiled, unruly one at that. A bratty vixen who needs some discipline. Were you not taught that being so merciless is not nice, My Lady? Or perhaps you feel safe with the notion that I am unable to do anything in such regards without a word of consent?" it was obvious how hard it was for him to keep his composure, no doubt, her soul must be some kind of trigger to him, same way as vampires react to blood in those stories, and being so deliberately close to him, without allowing him to touch her more than he already did, must be torture.

"Such naughty words from an otherwise perfect butler; Sebastian, Sebastian, you couldn't be falling into your own lusty temptation? Are you being captured by sin? Are the shackles too strong to break? Perhaps we can make a deal... If you promise to behave nicely I may... Allow you a little taste of this Forbidden Fruit you so desperately desire. I told you, didn't I? It is not Ciel, but me, who will be leaving you craving for more." with an abominably sultry smirk, Katrina turned from him, going towards the hearth of the room where he was 'killed' so to speak, and took the ash poker from the ground.

"A little kitten like you, attempting to look menacing with such a ridiculous weapon, my, I could only laugh looking at you. A mere human, attempting to mock a demon, how daring of you, if not, rather intriguing and positively endearing. I suppose I cannot deny that I am, in fact, attracted to you as I have been to no other human before, which, in all essence, is quite strange considering the infinite amount of humans that I have encountered over the many centuries that I have walked the Earth and the Netherrealm. If you would do me the honours, my dear Kitten, I can only promise you to make up for my previous ignorance. Is this deal to your liking?" he asked, getting on the right spot, as she could only smirk, very amused.

"Much obliged, Sebastian. Much obliged." and without a single warning, she drove the sharp ash poker through his torso; Seeing him falling to the ground, Katrina could only start laughing, albeit, as she tried to stifle it. "You look ridiculous. Come on, what's with that look on your face, there's nothing aesthetic about your supposed death." she grinned, harshly taking out the bloody poker and dropping it to the ground with a loud clank.

"You couldn't possibly wish for a human to have any kind of dignity, would you?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"You insult me, Sebastian, surely, I have more dignity than whatever pretense you are trying to mimic." she reprimanded him harshly. "However, there is no dignity in death, Sebastian, for anyone. The physiological processes through which the body goes upon death is the most disgusting thing there is. So, I rest my case. There is no dignity in death. Although... I promise to help with the full body autopsy when the time comes. I will be very gentle with you, if you promise to reciprocate. Sweet dreams on the cold, hard floor, little demon~." winking and waving him goodnight, as mocking as ever, Katrina made sure to not have any bit of his blood on her as she carefully made her way back to her room without anyone seeing her. Now, the the time is neigh for yet another murder to be discovered in this huge mansion.

The rolling thunder and pouring rain were like a blessing performed by an orchestra of demons. The curtain rises on the Phantomhive Manor Murder Case.

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#demon standards #black butler #black butler x oc #black butler x reader #black butler imagine #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x oc #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji imagine #sebastian michaelis x katrina raymond #sebastian michaelis imagine #sebastian michaelis x oc #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis

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queen-haq · 2 years

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Fic: Alive - Part 16 + 17

Summary: Aidan traced the thin chain around his neck, rubbing the infinity pendant between his fingers. No longer a symbol of their everlasting love, it was something he touched in anger when he thought of Sage. It was the only thing of hers that still remained with him after eight years, the last possession which still connected them together. When he 4did find Sage again, and he would no matter how long it took, he planned to destroy the pendant - and her.

Taking place across two timelines, Alive tells the story of Aidan and Sage, high school sweethearts driven apart by who they are and where they come from. Once enemies then lovers, their relationship runs full circle when they meet again in the present, now prepared to destroy each other.

My Masterlist (contains links to previous parts)

Part 16

Then...

Sage entered the kitchen to find Maria in there, stiffening instinctively when the older woman shot her a cold glance. Although the housekeeper was always civil, her short answers made it obvious she had no interest in exchanging pleasantries let alone forging a friendship, and after months of constantly being rebuffed by the woman, Sage no longer bothered to try.

Per their usual routine, they nodded at each other and both went about their own business.

Shortly after Sage was almost done making a sandwich when Aidan waltzed in, whistling, grinning like a fool. He'd been playing basketball with Theo in the back, and from the smirk on his face, she gathered he won the game. Although they didn't speak, he winked at her before swaggering over to Maria and wrapping his arm around her.

"Maria, how do you do it? How do you get hotter every day?"

Sage rolled her eyes, smiling to herself at the giddy expression on Maria's face. The housekeeper may not have been fond of Sage but she held Aidan in high regard and it showed in the gentle way they constantly teased each other.

"Don't you have any thing better to do than flirt with an old woman?" Maria retorted.

"I have a thing for cougars. I can't help it."

"Boy, don't you be sassing me."

"What should I do instead, babe?" he asked suggestively.

Sage chuckled before she could stop herself which elicited a curious glance from Maria. After the many arguments she and Aidan had exchanged in this very kitchen, usually in front of Maria herself, Sage wasn't surprised by the woman's reaction.

Aidan jumped up to sit on the counter, grabbing a freshly peeled carrot from Maria's hand. "You shouldn't be eavesdropping in private conversations, orphan Annie."

He cocked his eyebrow, encouraging her to continue the charade. Well, she certainly didn't want to disappoint him. "Orphan Annie, huh? Did you use up all your brain cells to come up with that one? No wonder your head looks a little small today."

"Worried about me?"

"Couldn't care less actually."

"Liar." He munched on the carrot. "Shouldn't you be out casting spells or whatever it is losers like you do with your free time?"

"Shouldn't you be at home? Oh wait, your parents probably kicked you out again."

"Aidan is always welcome here," Maria replied.

"Thank you, Maria," Aidan said before turning his attention back on Sage. "There's a rumor going around you keep a shrine of me in your room." His eyes gleamed with wicked delight; a sly smile curved his lips. "Do you get down on your knees and worship at my altar?"

"No, but I do keep a Ken doll handy when I'm in the mood."

"Ooh, kinky."

"I know." She smirked. "It's vapid and soulless, like you."

"Now you're just making me blush" He grinned. "Been getting freaky with doll me?"

"Oh so freaky. I snapped the legs off yesterday." She held up her hand, crossed her fingers. "Here's hoping voodoo works!"

"That is not something to joke about, young lady!" Maria scolded, her face red with anger. "You need to learn some respect-"

"But Aidan doesn't? I don't see you chastising him when he insults me," Sage pointed out, annoyed by the woman's blatant hypocrisy. "Maybe you're the one who needs lessons in respect."

"I don't need to be lectured by a child."

"Apparently you do," Sage fired back. Maria didn't respond, instead storming out of the kitchen in a huff. Sage shot an irritated glance at Aidan who stared back at her with an amused expression. "What are you smiling about?" she snapped.

"You look so hot when you're pissed off."

She knew exactly what he was doing: flirting with her, distracting her, anything to calm her down. It was the same tactic she employed when he was upset; unfortunately for him, she wasn't in the mood to be placated. Turning around, she grabbed the loaf of bread from the counter and threw it back in the fridge. Suddenly Aidan's hands encircled her waist, hugging her from behind. Being comforted by the gentle warmth of his touch was enough to simmer her down until, finally, she felt in control again. Closing her eyes, she leaned back on him.

"Maria's known me since I was a kid. That's the only reason she lets me get away with shit," Aidan cajoled. "It has nothing to do with you."

"That's not true. Even if I hadn't said anything she would still blame me. She has this family's mentality down perfect."

He circled her around to face him, his fingers tucking in a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Hey, I'm sorry. If I hadn't started this-"

"Don't be," she interjected, brushing her lips against his. "I was having fun telling you off."

"I bet." He nuzzled her forehead. "Do you really have a voodoo doll of me?"

A small chuckle escaped her lips. "Maybe. Why, you scared?"

"No, I just want doll me to have as much fun as I do. Maybe I should give him a Barbie so he doesn't get lonely." He wiggled his eyebrows. "And we can use them to re-enact-"

She placed her palm over his mouth. "No, we are not going to do doll porn. So you can just forget that idea."

He sighed melodramatically. "Why must you always rain on my parade?"

"Because it's so much fun when I do." Theo's voice drifted into the kitchen, yelling for Aidan to join him in the other room. Sage eased her grip on him. "Your boyfriend's missing you. You should go."

"Jealous?" He smirked, playing along. "Don't be. I love you both. Maybe you a little bit more."

She froze.

It was the first time he'd admitted to loving her, it was a strange sensation. A part of her couldn't help wondering if he really meant it or was she reading too much into a light-hearted moment. It's not like he confessed to being in love with her or anything, which meant he was probably just teasing her, right?

Her gaze pierced into him in an attempt to gauge his thoughts, but as hard as she tried to read past the blank expression that now masked his face, she couldn't.

"I should go. Your bro hates it when I keep him waiting."

She stepped back, nodding her head. "Okay."

His hands gripped the sides of her waist all of a sudden, pulling her against him, his lips covering her own. Frantic, desperate, he kissed her with a raw urgency that left her trembling against him. Just as quickly as he'd swooped in for a kiss, he pulled away, leaving her on edge.

"I'll sneak into your room after everyone's gone to bed," he said breathlessly, planting a quick peck on her forehead before leaving her alone in the kitchen.

She stared after him, heart pounding in her chest, trying to wrap her mind around what just happened. When she'd first told him she loved him and he hadn't returned the sentiment, she'd wondered about the sincerity of his feelings. Eventually she came to the realisation he simply wasn't used to expressing emotions. He didn't grow up hearing he was loved – another reason she despised his parents – and because of that he had a difficult time vocalising sentiments. She didn't like it, but she'd learned to accept it. Except now he'd just blurted it out, maybe as a joke, and she didn't know how to deal with it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Cat rushed into the kitchen a minute later, sending her the obligatory irritated glance that seemed to be part of Cat's daily routine. She looked through the cupboards, throwing things on the floor as she searched for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"Mind your own business," Cat sniped.

"No need to be a bitch about it. Just wanted to help you."

"Yeah, right." Finding the snack item she was searching for, Cat turned around with a scornful smile on her face, voice laden with sheer vitriol. "I don't need your help. You're the charity case, not me."

"I'm also your sister." Sage flashed a smug smile at Cat. "Don't forget that."

"As if I could when I have to see your goddamn face every time I turn around."

"Like dealing with you is such a fun time for me?"

"Why don't you fucking leave then? Dad will give you money to take off. Just leave us alone. Let us be." Cat marched towards her, blue eyes brimming with frustration. "If you weren't here, everything could go back to normal. We'd all be happy again!"

Anger, hostility, perpetual disdain were emotions she was used to from Cat, but not hurt, never hurt, and certainly not the level of pain that was displayed across her sister's face right now. Unsettled by the onslaught of guilt that flooded over her, Sage found herself at a loss for words. Not that it mattered as Cat was already on her way out of the kitchen.

*****

Sage woke up later that night, turned to glance at the clock on the nightstand table. It was almost three in the morning. She was still alone in her room; Aidan hadn't joined her as promised. She slid out of bed, put on her slippers and headed out of the pool-house. Sounds from the TV reached her ears upon entering the main house and she followed the noise into the family room, stopping in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. All three were fast asleep with Theo sprawled along the love seat while Aidan and Cat were nestled in each other's arms on the adjoining couch.

It wasn't just jealousy that surged through her, sharp and acute, but also sheer envy. Aidan and Cat looked like they belonged with each other, the cherished All-American couple that everyone rooted for. They didn't have to hide their relationship, not when the world expected them to be together.

Sage realised how much of an intruder she really was as she regarded the warm, cozy intimate picture her siblings and Aidan presented. The three of them had grown up together, they had history, and despite the fact Cat treated them like shit most of the time or that Theo and Aidan were rivals in most things, they shared a deep connection that could never be broken. She ached to fit in with them, to form her own place within their little group, but it was impossible. She was the family's dirty little secret, a source of conflict and unhappiness as Cat had reminded her earlier tonight, and she would always remain an outsider, a stranger who'd never be allowed in.

It hurt, it hurt far worse than she could have imagined.

*****

Now...

The phone vibrated loudly. It shook atop the nightstand table, waking Aidan up. The woman beside him stirred as he reached to grab the phone. It was a text message from a number he didn't recognize, piquing his curiosity as to who it could be. Theo wasn't speaking to him, neither was Cat, and his mother was off to some retreat in the middle of nowhere.

He checked his phone to read the message.

"Found Sage. Will email you deets shortly."

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.

***

Part 17

Then...

After tossing and turning all night Sage slid out of bed, determined to leave before Aidan could sneak into her room. She got ready in a hurry, grabbed her textbooks, and drove away from the house as quietly as possible. Avoiding him for the time being was probably the coward's way out but she didn't care; she wasn't ready to talk to him yet. Frankly, she didn't even know how to broach the topic without sounding completely selfish.

When she was alone with Aidan, it was easy to pretend rest of the universe didn't exist. They were in a cocoon, safe from the terrible realities of the world. They protected and cared for one another because they only had each other to rely upon – or so she thought. Last night had truly revealed that he wasn't alone, like her. Aidan didn't need her. He didn't feel the desperate craving for a connection the way she did, because there were people in his life he was already close to. Theo and Cat were his family, the people who mattered the most to him. Maybe if there was a chance they would accept her one day and allow her into their little fold, she wouldn't feel bitter and angry about it – but she was an outsider, forever relegated to remain on the outskirts.

The image of Aidan cuddling her sister taunted her again. It was burned into her brain, not ready to be forgotten no matter how much Sage wished it away.

Although she was secure in the knowledge he cared for her, maybe even loved her, she was no longer sure if his feelings were unique towards her. Loving him was like riding a terrifying, gut-wrenching rollercoaster that filled her with dread one second and made her come alive the next. It was the most incredible rush of euphoria unlike anything she'd experienced before. He was the only guy she had ever loved but it wasn't the same for him – he had been in love before, with Cat, which meant he must have experienced the same kind of emotions for her too. How did he get over that? Had he, even? She didn't think it was possible to ever not want Aidan. Did that mean he still wanted Cat? Remembering them holding each other, it was obvious there were still lingering feelings there – the thought of which made her want to retch.

Busy with her thoughts, Sage didn't realise she had already arrived at the beach. Considering it was a Sunday and the weather was comfortably warm, she expected the place to fill up quickly. Gathering her things together, she started walking towards her preferred spot: a hidden area near the rocks where not a lot of people visited.

*****

"Wanna tell me what the fuck is up with you?" Aidan asked.

He'd already left by the time she returned home late last night and she'd ignored his calls since then. However, it was only a matter of time before he confronted her. Of course she hadn't expected that to happen in school, in the hallway, in front of other people. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath before turning around to face him. "Can we not do this here?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not. I've just been busy."

He scrutinised her for a few seconds. Feeling uncomfortable, she averted her gaze from him.

His demeanor was visibly softer when he spoke next. Her eyes automatically scanned the hallway to see if anyone was watching them. With the sudden curious glances being thrown at them, they were the center of attention. "People are looking at us," she said softly.

"Good."

Aidan leaned in closer. Resting his hand over her head, trapping her against the locker, he tilted his head to the side, a flirtatious smile playing across his face. She hated that smile, hated it, because it made her knees weak and set her heart racing. There was absolutely no way she could remain strong in her resolve when he looked at her like that.

"You have a tell. Did you know that?"

She glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I always know when you're bullshitting. You have this thing you do."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Now who's the bullshitter?"

"Okay. Let's test it."

"I don't think so."

"Scared?"

"Whatever." She sent him a haughty glance. "Tell me what it is."

He smirked. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're a nice guy."

"Really? Am I?" His golden gaze pierced into her, taking on a somber glint. "Then why are you pissed at me? What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything."

"You're lying again."

"It's me, okay? I'm just freaking out over... nothing."

"Hey," he murmured, cupping her face with his other hand. His thumb caressed her skin with a touch so gentle it turned her insides into liquid. "It's not nothing if it's keeping you away from me."

"Can we please not do this in front of people? I'm really not in the mood to be gossiped about today."

"Who cares about them? They say shit about you all the time anyway."

"Yeah well, maybe I'm tired of that. Maybe I don't want to give your friends any more reasons to come after me."

Irritation flared in his eyes, he was running out of patience. "Fine." Aidan stepped back. "Find me whenever you're ready to talk. Maybe I'll still care."

She watched him storm away, guilt flooding over her.

*****

Sage wanted to be alone, and that meant having lunch in the back field far away from prying eyes. Unfortunately Marcus was already sitting at that spot and drinking from a flask when she approached him. He moved aside, giving her space to sit back against the giant tree. Since he was unpopular as her, she had invited him to join her and her friends for lunch several times, but he always just said 'no', not even bothering to make any excuses for turning down her invitation.

"What's wrong?" Marcus asked.

She could smell the heavy stench of liquor on his breath. "Maybe I should ask you that question."

"Meaning?"

"Do you get wasted every day?"

"Are you always such a nosy bitch?"

She was taken aback at the harshness of his words. What the hell?

"Sorry," he said a second later, giving her an apologetic smile. "I just don't like it when people butt into my business."

"Okay. Sorry. I was just being polite, I guess."

"Yeah, sure." He swayed closer, making her feel uneasy at his close proximity. "Anyway, you were going to tell me what was wrong."

"What makes you think something is?"

"Because you don't usually come out to the back field."

"I didn't realise you knew so much about me. Very stalkerish of you, Marcus."

"I only noticed because you're alone today. Most of the time you're hanging out with that fag."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Don't call David names."

"Why not? He is a fag."

"If you don't stop, I will smack you across the face."

"I'd like to see you try."

How had she not realised how much of an asshole Marcus was before today? No wonder he never wanted to sit with her and David. A part of her had assumed Marcus was better than the other ignorant idiots that roamed Belleville, that maybe because he was constantly gossiped about he would be more tolerant towards others who experienced the same thing. Clearly she was wrong.

"Tell him to stop checking me out. It's gross. I feel like taking a shower when he looks at me."

One more word from him, and she really didn't think she could hold herself back any longer. Maybe the smart thing to do was to walk away. She attempted to sidestep around him but he blocked her path.

"I would beat his ass but that bitch would probably like it."

Her patience had reached its limits. This fucking loser thought he could insult her best friend repeatedly and she wouldn't do anything about it? Enough was enough. She was done. Using all her strength, she slapped him across the face.

At first he just stood there, shocked, and she felt a huge bout of satisfaction at the stunned look on his face. Good. Maybe now he'd think twice about calling people names.

He rubbed the spot she struck. "Guess everyone was right. You are a cunt."

"Fuck you!"

He grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin, and pulled her against him so violently she went hurling against his chest. Struggling, she tried to knee him in the balls but he was quicker and stronger.

"You're gonna regret that, you fucking cunt!"

Suddenly Marcus was thrown to the ground and Aidan was standing behind him, his face red with anger.

Before she could wrap her mind around what was happening, Aidan knelt down next to Marcus and started punching him with brutal force.

She froze momentarily, shocked, incapable of any kind of response, until the violent fight finally snapped her out of her stupor. She screamed at Aidan to stop but her pleas fell on deaf ears. The sheer madness on his face was indicative of how out of control he really was and it frightened her. His viciousness came out in full force when anyone harmed him or those he loved – which meant Marcus was in deep trouble. While Marcus could jump off a bridge for all she cared, she didn't want Aidan to end up doing something horrible.

Marcus took a swing at Aidan, fist landing against Aidan's jaw. It must have been painful and would've given anyone else pause but Aidan seemed to be in a trance, oblivious to the wound, and simply continued to fight. He returned the punch with equal ferocity, slamming Marcus back to the ground.

Desperate, she threw herself on Aidan's back, clinging to him, clutching his clothes to pull him back. "Stop, Aidan. Please stop!" He stepped backwards unexpectedly; in turn, she lost her balance and her knees gave way. She fell to the ground, groaning in pain – and it was that which finally captured his attention. He was panting for air when he leaned down next to her.

"Are you okay?"

Cupping his face, she used her thumbs to swipe the blood from his bleeding lips. "Don't do this. Let him go."

The deep pools of his eyes were a vivid green, roaring with turbulent anger. "He hurt you!"

"But I'm fine now. I'm fine. See?"

His gaze pierced through her, studying her intently. Soon, she sensed a shift in him. The calm returned to his face as he held her gently when, once again, Marcus sucked-punched him from behind. She shrieked, watching Aidan fall down next to her. Hot rage coursed through her veins. Grabbing Marcus's leg, she bit into his skin as hard as she could. He screamed in pain, striking her face with extreme force. Instantly, everything went dark.

*****

Now...

Aidan sifted through all the photos of Sage in front of him, studying every detailed image until it was etched into his brain. Her hair no longer reached her waist; it was much shorter now, resting just below her shoulders. She was wearing business suits in most of the pictures, appearing professional and sophisticated – a far cry from the casual girl he remembered.

Most importantly, she was happy. And not alone.

In the pictures the investigator had sent him she was with a little girl. There were shots of them playing at the park, Sage walking her to school, one with her tying the kid's shoelaces and another where she was swiping the tears from her daughter's face.

He fixed his gaze on the little girl. Although the detective had yet to send him a birth certificate, he already knew the truth. Apparently she was in first grade, which made her about seven. He'd done the math and realised the kid had to be his. He studied her tiny face, hoping to spot some kind of resemblance to him – there was none. Then again, she didn't look like Sage either. If anything, her features were similar to Layal, Sage's mother.

Anger washed over him, red, hot, intense. He'd spent all these years imagining how he would make Sage regret leaving him, the many ways he would hurt her, but now there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied. She had his kid, and even he wasn't that much of a bastard that he'd do something to Sage which would inadvertently hurt the kid. To do so meant he was turning into his father.

For one moment he considered letting it all go and just moving on with his life. The kid looked alright, happy, maybe the best thing for everyone involved was to leave her with Sage – but a part of him yearned for answers. He needed to know why, he needed the truth.

At the very least, Sage owed him that much.

To be continued...

A/N - Thoughts?

#original fiction #romance novels #enemies to lovers #alive #my fics

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my-chaos-radio · 2 months

Text

youtube

Release: August 15, 2011

Lyrics:

Ooh, ooh, ooh

You heard the crickets of the early eve

They lurk around the opening in twos and threes

Clementine told you not to move with the breeze

I'll take you down to places where we dare not speak

Ooh, ooh, ohh

The red light in the doorway says she's armed (She's armed)

But boy go try your luck and you might get past (Might get past)

Step into the dwelling of the liger's mouth

Peer into the panic for a kick and swell

You know you shouldn't be there but it's way past bed

There's comfort in the fingers of your good intent

You know you shouldn't be there but your money's all spent

You've got your reputation and your good intent

Your good intent

Out to feed a habit when you sowed that seed

Nothing made you feel out of the ordinary

But the air turns sombre and the night took thee

Took you on a waltz of hypocrisy

She broke your bones, now you're lying in the dirt

The shadow of a hunter under your torture

It's not enough to say it's not what's in your heart

You've tainted every moment till death do we part

I know you didn't mean it, boy you meant so well

The pennies are cascading down your wishing well (Down your wishing well)

I know you didn't mean it when you counted to ten

You're slipping through the fingers of your good intent

I know you didn't mean it, boy you meant so well

The pennies are cascading down your wishing well

I know you didn't mean it when you counted to ten

You've got your reputation and your good intent

Such a good intent

Songwriter:

Ooh, ooh

It's not enough to hope for the best

It's not enough to lie there on a breast

The liger's on the prowl now you've pulled its strings

One false move and soon you're playing dice for a-

Kimbra Johnson / Francois Tetaz

SongFacts:

👉📖

Homepage:

Kimbra

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yacoka · 4 years

Text

the beginning

i. the ball of broken hearts

character(s) — tsukishima kei, matsukawa issei

pairing — tsukishima kei x reader

genre — royalty!au, reincarnation!au, soulmate!au

warning(s) — death, brief mentions of war, PTSD, loss

beta(s) — @/doughnuts-5ever

masterlist

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to be here. You did, you really did, but how could you enjoy a ball thrown in your honor when your parents had been murdered just a few days prior to this? It seemed like a cruel joke, to be expected to twirl around in a gaudy dress and perfect smile when the weight of your grief made you want to do nothing more than curl up in a ball and scream.

But for the sake of your kingdom, you had to. You would play the part of a perfect princess for as long as they needed you to. The war and multitudes of assassins had made you the last remnant of the royal family, and you were all your country had left to count on.

(Your crown has always felt more like a collar than a symbol of your sovereignty, and tonight it weighs even heavier than it usually does, choking you, stealing the breaths you so desperately sought.)

“Your highness, it’s time.” Akasuki, your lady of the bedchamber, spoke, effectively chasing away your thoughts.

A deep breath. Two. Three.

Straightening your back, you tilted your chin up. Tonight, you would put on a show. Let them see that the crown princess was more than a spoilt royal. Tonight, you would dance and smile and laugh until they were convinced that you were ready for your coronation.

You were led down the unfamiliar hallways of pale stone and shimmering gold, nothing short of the stunning extravagance the Tsukishima adored flaunting, but so unlike the cool brown and blacks of your own castle walls. The firelight illuminated your shimmering ball gown, surrounding you with an almost luminescent glow.

The guards escorting looked a little dazed every time they stole a glance at you, your etherealness commanding their attention. Good, let them be dazzled by your beauty. That meant that no one would be looking further than your skin.

“Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Y/n.”

The large doors to the ballroom flung open and you swept into the room, shining so brightly for a moment that the guests were momentarily blinded.

You were guided down the large staircase and settled into a pale marble throne, not unlike the castle walls. The practiced smile stayed plastered on your face all the while, never once wavering even as you felt the weight of their scrutinising stares.

There you remained, on display for the subjects of two kingdoms to ogle at, to tear apart with their judgment. Your gaze never once flickered away from those who blatantly stared, almost daring them to come forward and challenge you, even as you kept up a light conversation with King Tsukishima.

A pale hand extends itself to you and you follow it back up to its owner; a tall, lean blond with his head inclined in a reluctant bow, an artificial smile plastered on his handsome features.

“May I have this dance, your highness?” The disinterest in his voice was poorly veiled, and you knew he was only asking out of courtesy, the sharp looks shot at him by his mother not going unnoticed.

You were tempted to turn him down just to see what would happen, but you knew better than to do so. Your kingdom needed this alliance after all, and it would not reflect well on you to antagonise their crown prince.

“I would be honored.” You stood up and slid your hand into his, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor-

Wait, was that-

“Prince Tsukishima,” you gasped out, halting dead in your tracks, eyes pinned upon the blood-red string that was entwined around your linked hands. For the first time that night, your impenetrable mask had slipped, your stone-cold smile fading into one of twisted incredulity and wonder.

He whirled around, eyes flashing in annoyance as he opened his mouth to say something, but the words died out as he realized what you were staring at.

“You- you’re the one?” He sounded disbelieving, an indecipherable look in his eyes.

You bristled at his tone, fighting the urge to yank your hand out of his.

“It seems so,” you slipped back into your careful indifference, attempting to brush this off like it hadn’t shaken you to the core.

Even his eyes widened in astoundment, he remained composed enough to guide the both of you onto the dance floor, joining in on the ongoing waltz. You avoided his gaze, staring at everywhere but his face where you were sure disgust was present.

“Hey, look at me.” The gentleness in his voice was enough to throw you off guard, and you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were a warm brown, you realized with a start, much like the shades of your castle walls. “I don’t- I don’t hate this. Or you.”

You blinked at him, slightly confused and put out by his choice of words. Irritation began to flare within you and it must have shown in your expression, because Prince Tsukishima was quick to continue his words.

“It’s just not the right time for me,” he jerked his head slightly, “this, right now.”

“Not the right time for you?” You let out a scoff, your features straining as you fought back the sneer that threatened to appear. “I just lost my parents, and I have to run a kingdom on my own with no successors in the likely event I die, and you say it’s not the right time for you?”

Whatever little softness that had seeped into his eyes was now replaced by a burst of fury so intense that had you recoiling slightly.

“I lost both my brother and best friend, and gained a title I never asked for,” Prince Tsukishima hisses at you, careful to keep his expression neutral, even as his tone bites at your crumbling mask. “You’re not the only one who has lost someone important to this stupid war.”

You stumbled back, heels catching on the hem of your ballgown. He gripped you tighter, almost as if he was trying to anchor himself instead of preventing you from falling.

“I-” You didn’t know what to say. Had you been so caught up in your own pain and misery, so guarded to the point where you had missed the hurt mirrored in his eyes?

“I wasn’t the Tsukishima you were supposed to marry. That was my brother, Tsukishima Akiteru,” he continued on, voice trembling on the brink of tears. “He was out on the frontlines trying to save my best friend, at my request. I got them killed.”

His body tightened beneath your grip, and you felt the weight of his words settle upon your weary shoulders. Another death, another burden to carry. There isn’t anything you could say right now, not under the scrutinizing gaze of vultures waiting for a sign of weakness. So you squeezed him lightly, and you felt the tension easing, just ever so slightly.

As the waltz came to a close, you slid your hand into his, the red string curling around your wrists. He seemed to take the silent cue, and the two of you slipped out of the ballroom, where Tsukishima led you through the hallways, up a staircase, and onto a balcony that overlooked the gardens.

Even as the two of you stood there, leaning against the cool stone, your hands remained linked.

“I was the one who suggested cutting down on the number of guards in the castle to reinforce our army.” You broke the silence first. “The assassins broke in that night, and they killed everyone. I only got away because-”

Your throat tightened, forcing your words to a halt.

The string seemed to tighten around your pinky, even as his grip remained constant. The small gesture gave you the strength to continue, even as your voice wavered.

“My head guard, my best friend... he managed to get me out in time, and he defended me with his life.”

“It seems like we’re bound by loss, aren’t we?” A cynical chuckle escaped his lips.

Your lips tipped up in a sad smile. “It seems like it.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a while, staring out at the palace gardens. You couldn’t help but stare at the string that linked the two of you.

“Who was he? Your best friend,” Tsukishima asked.

“He,” you took in a deep breath, steadying your trembling breaths. “He was the most amazing man I have ever met. Matsukawa Issei.”

A sharp inhale from Tsukishima told you that Issei’s reputation preceded him.

“Yeah, the great Matsukawa Issei who held an entire army back on his own, is the same Mattsun that guarded the spoilt Crown Princess who never ventured further than the edges of her castle grounds.” Your chest tightened, and the memory of Issei’s smile burned, a reminder of the sacrifice he had been forced to give.

“Issei brought the world to me, in little trinkets and beautiful descriptions of the wild. He gave me everything he could, did anything just to make sure I was happy. And I used to joke around, asking him if he would die for me.” Your smile turned bitter. “I never thought that would become a reality.”

Tsukishima squeezed your hand, a soft exhale passing from his lips before he spoke.

“His name was Yamaguchi Tadashi. He was a peasant boy I had met when I followed the head cook to the market. Yamaguchi was being bullied by this group of boys, and I couldn’t sit back and watch that happen, so I helped him. I didn’t know that in doing so, I would gain my first and only friend, and that he would continue to help me as we grew.”

“Then the war started, and he was yanked away from me by the commands of the military, right into the front lines. I begged my parents to do anything to get him out of there or let me fight with him. Evidently, they said no.”

“I turned to my brother then, and he agreed to sneak out onto the front lines to find him when he had to go for the next war meeting. We all know how that ended.”

Something wet dripped onto your linked hands, and you watched as glistening teardrops splashed onto your skin, sliding down into the red string. You followed it back up to Tsukishima’s face, where his eyes were clenched shut, face twisted in an attempt not to cry.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, disgustingly aware of the hypocrisy present in those words. Who were you to absolve his guilt when you couldn’t even forgive yourself for a crime you hadn’t committed?

“Then it’s not yours either,” he threw back, though there was no malice in his tone.

It was your turn to shut your eyes, fighting the burning in your eyes. Your mask had all but fallen to pieces, and you weren’t about to let the remnants fall away now. You couldn’t afford to.

“Tell me more about him, about your Issei,” Tsukishima said softly.

“Only if you share about your Yamaguchi.”

There the two of you stood, hands intertwined as you swapped stories of your lost confidants under the gentle glow of the moon, the murmurs of the ball playing in the background.

Angry whispers rushing past your balcony caught your attention. Tsukishima stepped slightly in front of you as the doors burst open.

“Your highnesses!” A knight pants out, face red and sweaty. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“We merely stepped out for a breather.” You said cooly, your features slipping startling quick into a glittering cool smile.

“It’s not safe,” another knight stepped forward, out of the shadows.

“Sir Kageyama,” Prince Tsukishima greeted the guard coldly. “Sir Hinata.”

“Your highnesses, please come back inside.” Sir Hinata begs, recovering from where he had bent over in exhaustion.

“We’ll come back in when we’re ready.” The tall blonde waved a dismissive hand at them, and Sir Kageyama seethed, steam practically pouring out of his ears.

“Listen up you spoilt brat-” “Kageyama don’t-” “Your mother is worried sick about you, terrified that she’s going to lose another son, and here you are cosying up with your betrothed before the marriage ceremony?”

You hadn’t even realized Tsukishima had let go of your hand until he had Sir Kageyama pressed up against the wall, fist curled up in the knight’s tunic.

“Shut up.” He gritted out. The shoulders of his suit pulled taut, and you recognized the venom in his voice. It was one you had struck out at others with, often, and one that you knew would result in bloodshed.

“Prince Tsukishima,” you laid a hand on his tense shoulder. “We should go in anyway, the ball’s about to end.”

Sir Hinata shot you a grateful look when Tsukishima let go of his companion, and you wrapped an arm around his, tugging lightly to guide him back to the ongoing ball.

The two knights bowed, albeit one more stiffly than the other.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we skipped the end of the ball?” Tsukishima murmured, shifting your hand so it rested more comfortably around his arm.

Your lips quirked up in a genuine smile, just for a split second, before you fixed it back into your usual hollow one.

“I don’t know, you tell me if they’ll notice the crown heirs are missing when our betrothal is announced.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I guess we’ll have no choice but to go back then.”

“Lead the way, my prince.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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dreamer213 · 3 years

Text

A fanfic promo I might continue if there’s enough demand

Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Interior Evening Party at the Schnee Manor, a week after Weiss’s escape Jacques Schnee hosts an apology party to ease the tension caused by Weiss’s outburst. He has invited all Atlas elites including military elites in attempt at maximum damage control with his son Whitley doing the lion’s share of the actual work. Ironwood and one of his subordinates have come to the event not for the party but for the guests. Recently there’s been a number of thefts of supply trucks perpetrated Robyn Hill and her Merry Huntresses which has disrupted a top secret military project that needs to progress as soon as possible. Having received intel of a rat amongst the elites looking to undermine the Atlas military has been feeding Robyn Hill information Ironwood assigns a soldier to infiltrate Atlas high society to find and apprehend the them. To insurance there is little suspicion to this agent Ironwood sends in his least intimidating but powerful soldier, whose normal duties take place in Mantle completely unnoticed by the Atlas elites, Penny Polendina to take care of it.

Penny, having never been to any upper class party, is overwhelming by this new environment. All smug behavior, cutting remarks, and overall cold and cruel atmosphere is just too much for her. She decides to take refuge at an empty table at the furthest part of the ballroom. At a nearby balcony Whitley is leaning against the silver railing, after hours of sucking up to a bunch of rich entailed pricks he needed a moment to breathe away from the stench of their overgrown egos. He sighs for what feels like the hundredth time this evening and takes a deep breath and ponders if this is all his life will amount to. Cleaning up Weiss’s messes, Converting with annoying elites, and living under Father’s heel all while Mother drinks her life away and Winter ignores his existence. Was this it? Was this all he’ll ever have to look forward to? He looks up to the stars, closes his eyes, takes another deep breath, and leans back again. Unfortunately this time he losing his balance and falls with only a small yelp escaping him before he descends. Facing a two story drop to certain death Whitley wonders how angry Father will be when he has to get the grounds cleaned after his death. But before he falls even three feet he feels an hand grab his wrist.

”Hold On I’ve Got You”

He looks up to see a river soft red curls, bright green eyes, and freckle dusted skin wrapped in ill fitting lime green dress.

Being a combat ready battle android and the protector of Mantle Penny knows a cry for help when she hears it. So when she heard a cry coming her the balcony next to her, it only took her half a second and quick dash to save them before the worst could happen. She looked down to scan him for any injuries, in that moment she gets a good look at him, and for the first time in her life Penny could not process her emotions and thoughts at all. She was completely stunned.

How? How could a human look so, so beautiful? How could skin be so bright and smooth that it looked like porcelain? How could eyes be so much bluer then the clear sky and deeper then the deepest of seas? How could hair look so soft and neat that it could rival the texture of silk? The man made huntress couldn’t understand, she knew nature could create so much beauty but this was too much! Too cute to be real.

“Umm Could you please pull me up?”

“Y-Yes! Right Away!”

After regaining her senses Penny pulls him up. As Whitley straightens himself up and offers her his gratitude for saving his life a crowd descends on them having finally noticed the commotion. Like a wake of buzzards they claw at the pair with faux concern and back handed words of worry. With no data on how to handle the situation Penny is frozen in place trying her hardest to formulate an exit strategy with zero success. At this time Whitley takes notice of his savior’s discomfort and decides to take charge of the situation. This isn’t his first run in with a wake of elites and as a child of the most well known company in all of Remmant he has been trained from birth to hold the battlefield that is evening parties. He takes hold of Penny’s hand and guides her as he craves them a path through the crowd while pushing pass the mob of elites by way of a battle of biting words and manners. Penny’s amazed at the sight of this, it was like observing a new form of combat while a seasoned veteran carried you through the battlefield to safety. Amazing.

They were getting closer and closer to the front Penny could see Ironwood waiting for her! They just had to get across the dance floor and it was a straight shot to the entrance. But then music began to play and couples begin to crowd around and on the dance floor. Whitley recognize this song ,it was a waltz, one he had learned to play and dance to years ago. Knowing there was only one way to get them through the crowd he looked to Penny.

“Do you know how to dance?”

“No.”

“Hmm, Okay then just stay close and let me lead.”

He takes Penny’s left hand places it on his right shoulder, puts his right under her shoulder blade, raises their already joined hands, and leads them into a standard waltz. This was an effortless feat for Whitley even with an inexperienced partner he could still pull off an elegant waltz fit to his Father’s standards as he was trained to. But he had to admit her earnest attempts to match his movements were admirable if not a little cute. On the other hand Penny can barely comprehend what’s happening in front of her. It was if she had been transported into a fairytale, dancing in a castle with a prince, it was magnificent all she could do was try to match her steps with the music and Whitley’s movements. She didn’t even noticed when music stopped or that Whitley had brought them to the other side of dance floor until she hears Ironwood call out to her. Before she can go back to Ironwood Whitley questions her on her connection with the general. Penny admits that she is an agent of the military and that they were there to facilitate better relationships with the upper class of Altas for the betterment of Atlas as a whole. Sensing an opportunity Whitley offers her his business card and some etiquette lessons as a thank you for saving his life. She take the card with both hand and reads it carefully. With all the commotion they had never introduced themselves, as he turns to leave Penny decides that there’s no time like the present. She runs in front of Whitley and with a bright smile introduction herself.

“Salutations! My name is Penny Poledina, It’s was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Thank you Miss Poledina, and it was nice meeting you to. I hope to see you again soon.”

With that the two go there separate ways. Penny is praised by Ironwood for securing such a high profile connection her first day on and Penny is happy to have done a good job despite her awful start and is excited to found a new friend amongst the fakes smiles of Altas elites.

Meanwhile Whitley is greatly satisfied with the evening’s outcomes. Having handled the party with anything going wrong, for the most part and secured a way to better the Schnee Company’s relationship with the Atlas military he was sure his Father would praise him for this and maybe allow him some freedoms. Maybe an allowance or permission to be escorted around the city! As he makes way towards his Father to report his achievement he couldn’t help but recall the redhead’s sweet smile. How long had it been since he saw such an innocent and gentle smile? In a sea of fake smiles and hypocrisy a genuine smile, one from the heart, was a rarity. One Whitley had not experienced in so long he had almost forgotten that they even existed. Seeing it made him feel nice and warm inside for the first time in many years. And though he told himself that he was doing this for the sake of his Father and the company in the back of his mind a part of him, perhaps selfishly, wanted to her smile like that again.

#broken machines #fanfic #whitley schnee #penny polendina #I wrote this to cope with the finale #Still really sad about it though #first published fic #rwby #rwby fanfiction

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immoral-tales · 4 years

Text

Wicked Ballad

Simeon X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7,313

Warnings: angst; mentions of religion; corruption;

A/N: I would like to thank my close and dearest friend for aiding me when I was writing this heart-wrenching story. If it had not been for her, I would have—most likely—made it much worse. Truth be told, many stories and art have inspired me to write this story, therefore, I would like to thank everyone. I sincerely hope you love this story as much as I adore it. I almost cried whilst writing it, I poured my heart and soul into it.

Summary: a bittersweet tale of an angel and his human crossing paths with each other. their story truly is a wicked ballad.

❝You say I took the name in vain I don't even know the name But if I did, well really, what's it to you? There's a blaze of light in every word It doesn't matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah❞

He could vividly recall the very first time his blue gaze had laid on her. It was in front of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, in the middle of the night. Dragging an unfamiliar piano in the deserted streets of Paris, the clock striking midnight. He could remember the word “Yamaha” was emblazoned on the wooden part. Settling herself on the wooden stool, she opened the lid of the piano, her manicured fingers skimmed over the keys. Straightening her back, she took a deep breath and started playing a soothing melody. The harmonious notes lingered in the air, dancing with the wind, engulfing the deafening silence with great ease.

The moon glimmering in the darkness of the night, the scattered stars accompanied it with their dim illumination above the cloudless sky of the city. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, one in a million. A familiar wind caressing her face; the symphonious notes her slender fingers produced, reverberated in the air, waltzing around the ancient buildings of the capital of France.

It was an enchanted song for a creature like him. Humans... Who would have thought their simple, yet unforgettable creation would mesmerize an angel?

The rumors spread like wildfire about the fallen angel finding refuge at the cathedral. Every one of them refused to accept the responsibility, the humans heard about their ceaseless quarrel and took matters into their own hands.

Both of the sides present in the city, they had heard so much about. It was the day when the creatures of hell and heaven had decided to leave their humble abodes and visit the neutral territory, the human world. If they had been familiar with the term, they would have referred to this realm as Switzerland, always avoiding conflicts like the plague and minding their own business. Even though they had a perfect opportunity to get involved, they would never trouble themselves as humans abandoned their faith years ago. They stopped believing in miracles decades ago.

Heaven and Hell, paying a visit to the capital of France to see the scene unfolding right in front of their eyes. It was the day when humans had enough of their endless cycle of invisible war as if they did not have their own wars to handle.

An angel had fallen and no one was certain what path he would choose. The spectators surrounding the Cathedral of Notre-Dame had made sense now. As a human would have said, they were the juries of the court and they would be making a verdict. A final decision would be theirs. And humans, they had to play the devil’s advocate. An ironic choice of words.

The situation was becoming tenser and tenser, it could have been cut with a knife. The air surrounding the cathedral felt suffocating, making it almost impossible to breathe. And it was not because of the pollution.

It was a sight to behold, and every one of them was well aware of it. The woman sitting in front of the piano resumed playing her captivating melody. She had realized the predicament she was in when she dragged the piano across the empty streets of Paris. She was not alone, she had viewers from other realms. If she were not too engrossed in her activity, she would have mocked their curiosity. Tilting her head; her cold and calculating eyes were fixated on the entrance of the cathedral. Her hands moved in a hypnotic manner as if it was natural for her to be in the darkness, playing an enthralling piece of music. As some would have called it, a true masterpiece. It had never been her responsibility to lure the fallen angel out of the holy grounds, yet she understood his dilemma rather well.

The song was nearing its end and the woman could sense the tension in the air rising as the last notes of the harmonious melody faded, becoming non-existent. Finding a replacement to it was not that difficult, the breeze swept in, greeting her as if it had been an old friend of hers. The silence reigned in the air, lingered there more than necessary. It had overstayed its welcome, refusing to leave her side.

Standing up from the wooden stool, she stretched her arms and stepped forward. The sounds of the clacking of her high heels against the pavement resounded in the deafening silence. A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, her eyes continued to study the grand entrance as she did not trouble herself to pick up her pace. Strutting towards her destination, her walk was painfully slow as she was tormenting her spectators by depriving them of the show. She inspected the tufts of white hair peeking out of the opened door. Her suspicions proved to be correct as she halted in front of the cathedral. Opening her lips, she started speaking. “There is no need to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” Raising her hands, she demonstrated she was unarmed. Perhaps, he was not aware of the gesticulations, but the tone of her voice indicated she was not a threat to him.

Taking his sweet time, he had finally decided to reveal himself. Stepping forward, he walked out of the cathedral. His movements were slow; however, the woman had no problem with it. It was a normal occurrence for her, and she was well aware, earning one’s trust was not a simple task. Taking a deep breath, she extended her hand for him to take. As he fully exited the premises, she could clearly see his appearance under the artificial light of the lampposts. He was a young angel. His stark white hair covered his amber eyes filled with curiosity. He was not a fallen angel, he had merely lost his path and found refuge at his Father’s home.

Tilting his head, he examined her cautiously. Before the woman in front of him had a chance to utter a word, he ran towards her and wrapped his small arms around her, embracing her tightly. She froze in one place but quickly reacted as a low chuckle escaped her full lips. “Easy there, no one is going to hurt you.” Ruffling his short hair, she looked down at him with a smirk. He was so young, yet they kept referring to him as a fallen angel. Hypocrisy at its finest. She had a strong desire to roll her eyes but refrained herself from making the young angel uncomfortable.

She handled the situation quicker than anyone had anticipated, therefore, they were free to return to their respective realms. But one issue was still present, she was not certain what to do with the angel. Shaking her head, she glanced down at the boy who was not planning to release her from his iron grip. Opening her mouth once more, she was interrupted. Pursing her lips into a thin line, she furrowed her brows as she heard a loud clapping noise resonating in the air, shattering the deafening silence. A hulking figure emerged from the shadows, clad in a red uniform. The Prince of Hell graced her with his presence as his loyal butler trailed behind him.

Quirking a brow, she turned around to greet the familiar faces. Shielding the young angel with her body as he hid behind her, watching two men with great fascination. A sly smirk danced across her beautiful facial features. Nodding her head in acknowledgement, she began speaking. “Came here to enjoy the show, My Lord?” Those undertones of mockery still laced her alluring voice as she cast a glance at the notorious butler. Allowing every one of them to realize she was aware of their location as they lurked in the darkness of the night.

A sigh escaped her full lips, her attention returned to the young angel as she squeezed his shoulder lightly, in reassurance. As long as he was with her, she would never allow him to be put in harm’s way. It was her silent vow, yet all of them understood it. She had no intention of demonstrating her positive qualities to the world to see—the spectators of the three realms, to be more precise. The woman could feel how her young companion’s tense body relaxed as he resumed staring at the demons. He had never seen them before, and it was not that difficult to deduce it.

As always, booming laughter reverberated in the streets of Paris, bringing her back to reality as she craned her neck to get a better look at the handsome prince. Despite wearing high heels, he was still taller than her. As much as she did not wish to admit, she had always wondered what they had been giving him to be this huge. However, she did not have any right to complain, and she was not going to.

“How could I possibly miss such a spectacular show?” Grinning confidently, he exposed his pearly white teeth to the world; and crossed his muscular arms over his defined chest. His golden eyes glinted with mischief as they studied his beautiful companion. Straightening his back, he resumed speaking. “It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness a human playing the piano for an angel in the streets of one of the human realm’s most popular cities.” His excitement was quite noticeable in his voice, but he did not trouble himself to conceal it as he meant every one of his words.

Nodding her head in understanding, she glanced at his loyal butler as he mirrored his master’s action. Of course, every one of them was aware of it, but a human had to do the dirty work. Their every step was calculated beforehand; however, the humans had the element of surprise; and she used it to her advantage. These immortal beings never anticipated such an outcome, but she did. It was her world and no one knew it better than her.

Shaking her head to dismiss all of her useless thoughts, she gave them a questioned look; and was ready to deliver her endless cycle of sarcastic remarks. Taking a deep breath, a sly smirk danced across her attractive features as she opened her mouth to start speaking. “As much as I wish to give you what you desire most, unfortunately, I enjoy our game of cat and mouse a bit too much.” Her mesmerizing eyes shone underneath the moonlight, yet they did not reflect anything.

Another boisterous laughter echoed in the air, stepping forward, the brown-haired demon prince got closer to the woman. He pounced on her, enveloping her with his strong arms in a tight embrace; and lifting her off the ground. A low chuckle escaped her full lips as she looked back at the young angel. He was still astounded by the scene that unfolded right in front of his eyes. Feeling safe around the demons was an understatement, but he could feel at ease as she was with him. This human woman was his guardian angel, but in reality, it should have been the other way around. His amber eyes observed their interactions cautiously as he understood the woman was not hostile towards the demons. He had always had a great fascination with humans, but coming into contact with a human was a different experience. The young angel was thrilled to learn more about them. His morality clashed with his desire. At this point, he did not wish to return to his home, the Celestial Realm. He decided to remain with her. Oh, how excited the woman would be upon hearing the news.

“I would like to discuss a very important matter with you, but not here.” The tone of the demon prince was quite serious as it caused the young angel to snap out of his trance-like state. Getting even closer to his companion, he whispered words that were only meant for her. His golden eyes were locked with her captivating ones as he awaited her answer. He earned a nod of approval from her. His grin widened as he clasped his manicured hands together. He snaked his arm around her waist and guided her away from the cathedral. The Cathedral of Notre-Dame. He assured her his loyal butler would take care of her piano.

Walking away, the clacking of her high heels resounded through the streets of Paris. The young angel followed her as he eyed the demon prince suspiciously, but he trusted her. He had faith in her.

Saved an angel; was tempted by the demon prince himself as he led her away from the cathedral. The woman was aware of her surroundings from the beginning. No one could use her. That was her remarkable ability. She was desired by many, yet none of them had the privilege to touch her or even dream about having her in their arms. She was one of a kind; and every one of them knew. The Prince of Hell did not cajole her into following him with his words, she merely accepted his offer.

The clacking of her high heels became unbearable as the spectators resumed enjoying the scenery. His blue gaze had never left her as he silently prayed she would look back. One last time. The woman halted dead in her tracks, surprising her companions. Looking over her shoulder, a half-smirk decorated her beautiful facial features as her eyes stared into the void of blackness, far away from the artificial lights. His breath was caught in his throat, she could sense his presence. She could feel his eyes on her, she had heard his prayer.

“After introducing our new exchange program students,” a loud, booming voice resounding in the large ballroom. Covering the melodious music to earn every one of the attendants’ attention. All eyes were on the tallest man in their presence and they looked at him with great interest as they awaited their prince to resume his speech. “I would like all of you to enjoy yourselves.” It was not the monologue they had anticipated, but none of them were troubled with the short introduction of their prince’s guests from the other realms.

Every one of them returned to their respective activities as the pleasant, yet unfamiliar melody played in the background to make the visit of attendants at the Demon Lord’s Castle unforgettable. The Prince of Hell himself was quite preoccupied with engaging in conversation with his close friend, the Avatar of Pride, and an old acquaintance of his as his sharp golden eyes detected a rather familiar face in the ocean of people. A huge grin tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes crinkled in delight as he managed to get both of his companions’ attention. The black-haired man gave him a questioned look, awaiting his response. Diavolo did not pay any heed to his subtle signals. Waving his arm, he opened his mouth to start speaking. “It’s good to see you again. I thought you would never come.” His voice had a playful lilt to it as his eyes were fixated on a feminine figure in front of him.

A woman clad in a long, black dress with a slit that reached her mid-thigh that hugged her curves perfectly. A simple, yet elegant combination of attire attracted their attention, but she did not seem to mind all the eyes that were on her as she idly conversed with the white-haired sorcerer. Flashing him one of her infamous smirks, she excused herself and turned on her heel to leave. Swirling her alcoholic beverage absentmindedly, she straightened her back and stepped forward. Her high heels were clicking and clacking against the marble flooring as she took a deep breath. She already had a certain destination in mind, her smirk grew wider. Her eyes were fixated on the handsome demon, weaving her way through the crowd was not an obstacle for her as she easily arrived at her destined location. The tantalizing sway of her hips earned her several compliments from the demons.

A low chuckle escaped her full lips as her eyes met his golden ones. Bowing her head for the sake of formality, she straightened herself, once more, and took a sip of her beverage. “My apologies, My Lord. Every woman takes her sweet time preparing herself for the big event. Unfortunately, I missed the introduction of your new students.” Breaking eye contact with him, she cast a glance at the sorcerer and resumed speaking. “I have to admit, you have chosen rather intriguing candidates from my world, without consulting me.”

Simpering, he followed her gaze and nodded his head in agreement. Diavolo shrugged his shoulders as he commented on her remark. “It was Lucifer who chose the candidates from the human world.” Looking at his companion, his eyes glinted with an unreadable expression as he continued talking. “I believe you are familiar with Lucifer, but have you ever met our new exchange program student from the Celestial Realm?” the brown-haired prince questioned his beautiful companion as he directed her attention towards his third companion.

A handsome dark brown-haired man with a brilliant shade of blue eyes—the most enthralling color she had ever seen in her life. He had a charming smile dancing across his breathtakingly beautiful features. His blue gaze never left her figure as his companion resumed his conversation. “Allow me to introduce you to Simeon. He is one of the two angels sent from the Celestial Realm to take part in the exchange program. And this is [Name] [Surname]. She is…” He trailed off. The Prince of Hell stopped for a moment to think about it.

The woman standing right next to him sensed his distress and decided to get involved to avoid any unpleasant situations. Offering one of her infamous smirks, she extended her hand for him to take as she opened her mouth to begin speaking—well, finish what Diavolo had started. “Lord Diavolo, I’m certain the introduction was not necessary as we are familiar with each other.” She sent a wink in his direction as Simeon stared at her extended hand. It took him several seconds to realize what that gesture meant as he took her hand, shaking it. His grip was firm but gentle. Releasing her slender hand from his bigger one’s grasp, her next sentence made him snap out of his reverie as his heart picked up its pace.

“We met in Paris.”

Simeon blinked once, twice, thrice. His heartbeat was getting faster and faster as her words echoed in his mind. He did not hear how Diavolo and Lucifer left them alone to speak with other guests. His companion took another sip of her beverage and attempted to break the ice. Biting her lower lip sensually, she thought for a moment. “Have you ever heard the tale of Romans? In ancient times, Romans shook each other’s hands to demonstrate they were unarmed and their handshake was a symbol of friendship and loyalty.”

Shaking his head to dismiss his useless thoughts, his blue eyes met with hers. She was aware of the events, taking place in the capital of France. Oh, Lord Almighty, she knew. The brown-haired man was great at having conversations with anyone, yet this one human managed to take his breath away by uttering several words. He was not certain how to respond to her, but to one’s relief, she quickly detected his uneasiness and resumed speaking. “I know what you are thinking, Simeon.” A low chuckle escaped her lips, once more. “Please forget what happened in Paris. The young angel is safe and he is with me. During my absence, he will remain in Rome, at my family estate. If you don’t trust my word, then you may pay a visit to him. In the meantime,” she inspected her surroundings. “May I have the honor to accompany you outside as it is getting rather crowded in here?”

Placing her half-empty glass on the nearby table, she inhaled the fresh air. Getting closer to him, she linked her arm with his and started to lead the way, guiding him outside of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Simeon was speechless, he could not utter a word as he allowed her to sweep him away. The blue-eyed angel had met many humans and demons in his long existence, but this human woman intrigued him. Her enigmatic aura attracted him, he wished to learn more about her. Simeon was an experienced and mature angel, he could easily read anyone like an open book; however, her behavior puzzled him. By now, he could have gone through numerous subjects during his conversation with Diavolo and Lucifer, but not with her. The woman waltzed into his life without asking him, and currently, she is dragging him away from the ball.

It would have been an understatement if he had said he preferred to remain at the castle. His gorgeous companion guided him outside of the premises, into the gardens. There was the moon glimmering above them in the darkness of the night as the stars accompanied it with their dim illuminations. It was a beautiful, cloudless sky. Looking up to get a better look at the scenery, he noted the moon of the Devildom differed from the one in the human world. And he was certain, she would not be fascinated by the view unlike him. His blue gaze landed on his arm that was linked with her, and then, his mesmerizing eyes studied her as if he was trying to memorize every small detail of hers. In his eyes, she was perfect.

Yet the angel wondered to himself, how he had managed to find her. There were more than seven billion humans on Earth and he had the privilege to meet an occult detective with an eccentric personality and antics. He had to find this particular human interesting. Simeon cursed his existence, at the same time, he silently thanked his Father for allowing him to meet her. Developing romantic feelings for a human was not an option, but he indulged in his sinful desires a little bit.

Releasing him from her grasp, she turned around to face him as she leaned back on her elbows against the railing. Her cold and calculating eyes studied him, but not with a scrutinizing gaze. Her tense body relaxed as she allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment. The deafening silence reigned in the air, she refused to speak up, taking pleasure in being far away from the crowded ballroom.

A soft hum resonated in the darkness of the night, opening her eyes, she straightened herself. Her gaze softened as she glanced at her handsome companion. Pretending she was sitting in front of the piano, her slender fingers started moving with perfect synchronization. It seemed they had minds of their own as they produced illusive notes, waltzing in the air. Her eyes met his brilliant shade of blue. She studied them with great curiosity. It was barely undetectable, yet she noticed how his sapphires lit up, engulfing her with his warmth.

Stepping forward, she got closer to him. Her eyes were locked with his as the silence lingered between them, not planning to leave them any time soon. Even though she delighted in being with him in solitude, she had a strong desire to have a decent conversation with the angel. The woman opened her mouth to start talking. “This will remain between us. Cross my heart and hope to die,” a low chuckle escaped her full lips as she resumed. “Stick a needle in my eye.”

Before the brown-haired angel had a chance to respond to her a rather odd vow, she gave him a two-finger salute and turned on her heel, leaving him to his own thoughts. Simeon opened, then closed his lips into a thin line as his blue gaze never left her. Her tight-fitting dress outlined her curves, awakening immoral desires within him. Feeling his heartbeat increasing, this human did wonders to his immortal heart.

The rays of sunlight seeped through the famous stained rose windows of the cathedral, dimly illuminating the surroundings. The rows of pews decorated the main part of the church to greet as many believers as possible. Its doors were always open to anyone that wished to pay a visit to one of the wonders of the modern-day world. Every one of the visitors adored the magnificent masterpiece of the French Gothic architecture accompanied by its loyal guardians, gargoyles—never once leaving their respective places to keep a close eye on the place they learned to call home. An intriguing statement, yet all of them were well aware it had the seeds of truth.

The Cathedral of Notre-Dame—The place where it all had begun—had always had countless visitors to witness its greatness with their own eyes, yet it was devoid of its usual attendants. A familiar silence reigned in the air as it lingered more than necessary, not allowing anyone or anything to produce sounds. However, the clicking of the rather familiar shoes against the marble flooring resounded in the large cathedral, shattering the deafening silence completely. The sounds of footsteps halted in front of the altar as the man dropped to his knees, his white cape pooling around him as his head lowered in humiliation. His heavy breathes resonated throughout the church, his quickened heartbeat could be heard.

His lips were pursed into a thin line as both of his hands clutched a rosary, hard enough to draw blood. Closing his endless oceans of blue, letting out a shaky breath, he stopped himself. The stagnant air in the church was suffocating, burning his lungs. The man opened his mouth, yet no words came out. Inhaling the fresh air, he listened to his heart hammering against the ribcage, convinced it would jump out of his chest.

Evening his breathing, he gained enough confidence to open his bewitching eyes as he raised his head. He started speaking. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.” His words echoed in the cathedral.

His very own words made him shiver with disgust. Was remorse eating him alive? Were his mind and intuition screaming at him that it was too late to redeem his actions? Was he regretting his deeds? All of the questions were running rampant in his mind. He could not help himself, yet he had tainted himself. Was he even worthy of stepping his foot in his Father’s house? Thinking about it made him hang his head in shame, the tufts of his brown hair framing his sapphire blue eyes. The angel tightened his grip on the rosary.

A soft melody found its way as his mind played tricks on him. It was a wicked ballad, yet he was enamored by it. He could not escape its clutches, dragging him further into the depths of hell. The return was non-existent. His predicament was laughable, he understood the absurdity of his situation. The brown-haired angel had always believed he would not make a similar mistake, yet there he was contemplating his own existence. Simeon was certain it was a fleeting feeling, a mere infatuation with a human woman.

The brown-haired angel should have heeded the warnings of not following the white rabbit until the end of the road. Now, he had fallen down the rabbit hole and he could not claw his way out of it. He fell deeper than he had anticipated. Could his soul still be saved?

An angel falling for a human. How could anyone be so foolish to voluntarily corrupt themselves? Straying away from the path of the righteous man. An angel; a man of God—falling head over heels in love with a human. Having strong bonds with the creations of God had never been an issue, but getting involved with one of them had always been frowned upon. Simeon had been aware of it, yet he could not help himself.

His body stiffened, his prayers had fallen on deaf ears. His heart-wrenching pleas had not been heard, it was apparent. He could sense it. Simeon’s words merely ricocheted off the ancient walls of the cathedral. His stark white attire dirtied, his hands scarred beneath the black gloves from clutching the rosary. It was a sight to behold. An unforgettable memory for a mortal man, yet no one was there to witness the angel’s former glory. The angel’s silent cry of distress to be heard. He was all alone at his Father’s home.

The cursed notes of melody had never left him, accompanying him until the end. A loud clatter reverberated, the rosary slipped through his iron grip and fell to the polished ground. A low chuckle escaped his lips, his heart beating rapidly against his chest as he looked up, his brilliant shade of blue staring at the ceiling. He should have known, yet he knew. It was inevitable. Every one of them was aware of it from the beginning.

The clanking of ice, joyous laughter, and a familiar song played in the background. Creating a welcoming aura for the guests that desired to visit a small bar in Zurich, Switzerland. The true neutral territory of the human world—especially for humans. They had once said: “politics is a dirty game.” And every one of them agreed. As they would say, it was a “human thing” and a demon, nor an angel would never understand it. An intriguing concept, yet some were not courageous enough to delve deeper into the matter. The creations of God—humans—were an interesting case.

As the music resumed playing in the background, the guests enjoyed their alcoholic beverages in their own small circle of friends. It was a unique place and all of them intended to keep it that way for a long time. It was a perfect consensus among strangers.

A certain woman frequented the bar with her associate and it was yet another day to discuss their daily lives. Her eyes had a mischievous glint as they were locked with her companion’s unnaturally-colored ones. With a shake of her head, she took a sip of her dirty martini. Settling her glass on the wooden table, she opened her full lips to throw one of her snide remarks in his direction, but she was interrupted when someone barged into her haven. Quirking a brow, she looked over her shoulder to see the person who opened the wooden double doors with such force. Her eyes widened as she froze in her seat. Her words were caught in her throat.

Her companion mirrored her actions as he cast a glance at the entrance of the bar. Exhaling, he blinked several times to adjust his vision. He was not certain whether his eyes were deceiving him or his mind was playing tricks on him. He swallowed thickly as he opened his mouth to start speaking. “Luke, what are you doing here? Most importantly, how did you find us?”

Solomon took the words out of her mouth as if he had read her mind. His yellow-blue eyes studied his partner thoroughly, her every facial reaction and movement. The sorcerer did not require her affirmation to understand something unspeakable had occurred, yet he was not certain whether she was aware of it or not. His curiosity had always been insatiable, but with this woman, he never allowed himself to let his guard down as she was a walking disaster. She attracted trouble without even trying. And of course, the young angel—already—in front of their table was the living proof of it.

Clenching his hands into fists, his face was entirely red as his nostrils flared. “How could you do this to us?! I thought you cared.” The young angel’s fury was directed towards the woman.

Her expression was unreadable, her eyes were devoid of emotions. No sign of life. She could not utter a word as she lowered her head in shame. All eyes were on her, everyone at the bar watched how the entire scene unfolded. The guests of her favorite bar were the witnesses of her humiliation and failure as their judgemental stares bored holes into her soul. Every one of them was observing her with their scrutinizing gazes. Lowering her head even further, her hair obscured her regretful face. She received their silent curses openly, accepting them. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and looked at him.

The white-haired sorcerer could sense her melancholic soul, her nihilistic thoughts, and the rapid beat of her heart. He did not even deem necessary to use magic on her to see her facade cracking and her mask slipping after all these years. Yet he still was amazed by how she held herself. He could not tear his eyes off of her as he resumed observing her.

“Of course, I did…” She trailed off, taking her sweet time to process the young angel’s every word. The background music did not allow silence to reign in the air, not this time. “I…” The woman stopped as she pursed her lips into a thin line, refusing to say another word.

It was getting unbearable, the tension was tormenting the young angel. He was not used to it, he was not even used to being surrounded by so many sinners. Humans and their judgemental gazes. He could feel his lungs burning because of the air. It had been tainted. Shaking his head in disbelief, his nails dug into his palms, his knuckles turning white from the sheer pressure. Gritting his teeth, he exposed his pearly white teeth to the world.

“They are judging Simeon.”

Four words. Those four damned words. Feeling her skin being prickled with goosebumps, her frozen state worsened. She could not hear anything, his words were nothing but white noise. A shaky sigh left her full lips as she blinked once, twice, thrice. Her mind replayed those four words. Closing her eyes for a moment, she listened to the song that resumed blending in with the background effortlessly. The woman then allowed her heart to calm down as she opened her eyes. Looking at him, she finally responded.

“Tell me more.” Her voice was firm but uncertain.

“Simeon’s life is at stake. He is going to fall.”

Slamming her hands against the wooden table, she stood up from her seat. The chair fell to the laminate flooring with a loud thud, yet no one paid attention to it. Their eyes were still on her as every one of them heard. “I have to go,” muttered under her breath.

Taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage, Solomon continued watching the entire scene with great amusement. His eyes followed his companion’s figure as she left their favorite bar, the young angel running after her.

Once he had heard a visit of an angel supposed to be a good omen, but now, he started to doubt the statement. A sly smirk danced across his handsome facial features as his hand started glowing, surrounded by the dim golden illumination. With a flick of his hand, the golden light spread throughout the small bar. “Always making me do the dirty work.”

How hypocritical of him to speak such words. Solomon was fully aware of it, but he could not care less about it. He had always been more of a spectator than a player. It was a mutual agreement. She had his back, and in return, he was always there to aid her. A perfect symbiosis between two human beings. He was quite proud of his achievement.

The judgement had been passed.

An angel had been cast out of heaven.

He had fallen.

Standing in front of the familiar castle, the darkness of the night concealed her figure rather well. Her hands shaking, her breathing ragged as she was on the verge of losing her consciousness, yet she held herself perfectly. Her nerves betrayed her as she dropped to her knees, her legs refusing to assist her. Digging her manicured nails into her own skin, her gaze lingered on the Demon Lord’s Castle. Her vision blurred. Blinking several times to adjust her vision, but she could not. She had not realized how tears trickled down her cheeks, soaking the soil beneath her. When was the last time she cried? She could not recall. Her pulse skyrocketed.

Her mask was cracking without her noticing it. The beating of her heart could be heard from kilometers away. She should have known, yet she did not deem necessary to pay any heed to it. Now, he had to pay the price. He already had. Lowering her head in shame, her hair covered her disheveled appearance and expression.

Attempting to stand up, she teetered. The woman mentally embraced herself for a possible impact, but it never came. Looking up, her eyes met with his. His arms were wrapped around her waist to catch her. Draping her arm around his shoulders, she balanced her shivering body as she tested her legs. This time her legs did not betray her as she leaned against him. He did not reject her physical contact. Laughing bitterly, she straightened herself and opened her chapped lips to start speaking. “Impeccable timing as always, Barbatos. You’re always there to witness my failures. You have seen both of them. Would this answer your eternal question of what it means to be a human and hurting someone you love?”

“He has been waiting for you. Forgive my curiosity, but how long have you been in the Devildom without anyone being aware of it? How did you manage to convince the Young Master to permit you to remain here?”

Assisting her to stand up, he bombarded her with so many questions, she did not have enough time to process every one of them. It was quite uncommon for the demon butler to question people, yet the woman in front of her was a different occasion. He was one of the most powerful demons in existence, yet he still had difficulty understanding human nature and how this woman’s mind functioned. Inspecting her unkempt appearance, he noted she had seen better days.

Separating from his strong grip, she stretched her limbs and wiped her tears away. Inhaling the fresh air to calm her beating heart down, she pushed her hair back and tilted her head. Biting her lower lip—a rather familiar habit of hers to which even Barbatos got accustomed to. She thought for a moment, she was stalling some time. She could have easily used a question dodging technique, but she decided to tell the truth.

“You and I both know you are already fully aware of my current predicament. Is there anything you wish to know?” Those undertones of mockery were remarkable, considering her current situation. Quirking a brow, she studied the demon butler as an infamous smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips. “I thought we had a mutual understanding here.” Stopping herself for a moment, she shook her head to dismiss her useless thoughts. Straightening her back, she looked at him and added the last part. “My egotistical desires led us to this irrevocable act. I should have known. I did, yet I did not do anything.”

The last part of her speech was barely audible, but the demon butler heard every word of it. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he placed his chin between his gloved thumb and index finger, he appeared as if he was thinking. He opened his mouth to start speaking. “This is not my place to meddle; however, do you regret your decision of getting involved with him?”

A low, bitter laugh escaped her full, yet chapped lips. Her eyes glinted with an unreadable expression, once more, he had difficulty comprehending her emotions. He decided to await her response before jumping to conclusions. That smirk of hers still present on her gorgeous features. Several dreadful seconds passed before she responded.

“How could I?” She stopped, once more, allowing the silence to reign. “I have made many foolish choices in my God-forsaken life, but loving him is something that I would never regret.” Looking up at the darkened sky, she resumed. “It’s quite ironic, I’m telling my life story to a demon who doesn’t give a flying fuck about me. Look, how low I have fallen.” Her every word was dripped with venomous self-hatred.

“Unfortunately, you are not wrong; however, I’m not the only listener you have tonight.”

Casting a glance at the demon butler, she noticed another dark figure standing behind Barbatos. Under normal circumstances, she would have easily detected an unwanted presence looming into her field of vision. It seemed she was too absorbed in her self-pity not to let her guard down. Her mask had slipped. She realized it a long time ago, but it was too late. It had always been too late for her.

Furrowing her brows, she did not say anything as she patiently awaited the figure to reveal themselves. The woman already had her suspicions, yet she refused to believe her own intuition as her heart skipped a beat. She could not shake her head or dismiss her useless thoughts as she did, not long ago. Her entire body was frozen in one place, she had no desire to move. Inhaling and exhaling, her chest was rising and falling. Mentally, she tried to deceive her mind to calm her rapidly beating heart, but to no avail. Her heart rejected her attempts, becoming an obstinate vital organ.

The tall figure stepped forward, revealing himself in the dim moonlight. Her breath hitched as she stepped backwards. It was him, the most magnificent creature in this damned world. A genuine smile decorated his handsome face as his brilliant shade of blue shone—in the darkness of the night—brighter than ever. A pair of midnight black wings were folded tightly against his back as a pair of black horns protruded out of his skull, completing his ethereal beauty.

Simeon stepped forward, but she moved backwards. Her gaze shifted between him and the demon butler. Her heart was wrenching, the feeling of regret was getting unbearable. She watched how Barbatos turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness. As expected, he always did it. It would be no different in this situation.

She stopped moving, raising her head up, her grief-stricken eyes met with his. His smile grew wider as he approached her. Without wasting any moment, he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly as if he was afraid of waking up in a world where she did not exist. Placing her head against his chest, she listened to his heartbeat. It was not quickened like hers, it was as serene as the melody of their wicked ballad. She refused to stand idly, but she could not touch him. Her consciousness did not allow her to reach for the stars.

He could sense her distress, but he was fully aware of her internal conflict. As much as he could remember he had always been fascinated with human nature, how different they were from angels and demons. Humans always had a knack for making their lives more difficult and he had a perfect opportunity to witness such an event with his own eyes. Ironically, he could relate to her struggles. He understood her.

Hiding his face in the crook of her neck, he whispered. “I forgive you.” Wrapping his large wings around her form, he shielded her from the harsh weather of the Devildom.

Three words. It only took three words to lift all of her burdens off her shoulders. A shaky sigh escaped her chapped lips as she snaked her arms around his torso, tightening her grip on him. Her heartbeat started to quiet, inhaling the fresh air did not burn her lungs anymore, and her tense body relaxed. After all these years, she had finally found her place.

“I know.”

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dinglemingle · 4 years

Text

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)

Chapter 4(ao3)

"Look mate I'm not being funny but my timetable says room 228" Aaron had been arguing with his head of year, Mr Clark, for the past 5 minutes. He waved around the sheet, frustrated at being in the office instead of lesson

"No need to take that tone Aaron" the middle aged man picked up some papers before sitting down and typing something on the computer

"I'm sorry but there must have been a mix-up, room 228 is in the old building which is no longer in use"

Aaron rolled his eyes, why had the room been printed on his timetable then?

Mr Clark printed off a sheet before passing it to Aaron

"There you go son, room 128" Aaron snatched the paper, looked at it briefly before stuffing it in his pocket

"Thanks" he called as he threw open the door and waltzed out into the hallway

It was his first day and he really couldn't be arsed having to trapes around unfamiliar halls trying to find his lesson. He'd managed to arrive on time and get through his first two lessons with a hitch

He found the common room fairly easily, where he met up with Adam. Everything was going swimmingly, but he was Aaron Dingle so that didn't last long

The bell rang and he pulled out his schedule, checking where he was next

electronics, room 228 Mrs Vince

Okay, all he had to do was go to the technology block and he'd be there.

20 minutes later when he was wandering around aimlessly trying to find 228, he felt like kicking himself for thinking it would be that easy

Bumping into Robert hadn't helped either

"Oi dingle" the voice had called him from the other end of the corridor, Aaron had recognised who it was in an instant

Spinning around he was met with Robert sauntering towards him, hands in pockets, smug smile adorning his face

"What are you doing, wandering around?" Aaron rolled his eyes at Roberts hypocrisy

"I could ask you the same question" he leant against the wall, raising his eyebrow

"I asked you first" Robert inched closer, Aaron felt his heart beat in his chest

Aaron decided maybe he shouldn't act so smart with Robert

"I can't find my class" he looked down, suddenly feeling embarrassed at being lost like he was a kid in secondary school again. Without asking, Robert snatched the paper from Aaron's hand and inspected it thoroughly

The lad smirked and let out a repressed scoff

Crossing his arms Aaron barked back at the boy in front of him "what"

Robert simply shook his head before passing the paper back

"It's nothing" he pointed behind him and smiled "just go down there, take a left, go down the stairs and you'll find the room"

Before Aaron could even utter out thanks, Robert patted him on the back and brushed past him, off to do whatever it was he did when not in lesson

So Aaron had naively followed Roberts directions and ended up in the English department, just as clueless as before.

Bloody Robert Sugden, Aaron kicked a wall in frustration at the boy's attempt at a windup

That's when Mr Clark had appeared and ushered him into the pokey little pastoral office

After about 5 more minutes he found the godforsaken room and braced himself for the awkward entrance

He wiped his sweat-stained hands on his trackie bottoms before twisting open the door handle. The lump in his throat formed as a room of eyes locked onto him. At the front of the class, a small woman turned her head and stopped halfway through the diagram she was drawing

"Yes?" her voice was firm, yet soft

"I'm Aaron, I uh couldn't find the room" he was quite, hating the attention drawn to him, yet that didn't stop the one or two sniggers from the back of the class

The teacher squinted her eyes at him, before raising her arms in the air as if she'd suddenly remembered and spinning round to her desk to grab something

"Ah yes Aaron, I was wondering where you'd got to" she ushered him a worksheet and a textbook "there you go, find yourself a seat and I'll see you after to go over what you've missed"

Aaron took the work and shot to the back of the class, eager to disappear

The rest of the day was fairly normal, he went through the rest of his lessons without getting lost, and come lunchtime he had gotten more adjusted to the college environment

Aaron placed his tray down, before realising he forgot a fork, which was good seen as he still had a bone to pick with Robert, and the blond had just walked into the canteen

Approaching the lad he prepared himself for the confrontation that would ensue

Hi hand clasped onto Robert's shoulder and roughly spun him around, growing increasingly angry, he didn't like to be messed about

"You think you're funny?" He looked up at the older boy, who was staring at him without a care in the world

"Yes actually I do" Robert replied, instantly knowing what Aaron was angry about

"I don't appreciate you giving me the runaround" he continued to glare up at Rob

"I don't appreciate you bombarding me when I'm trying to get my lunch" Robert spoke as if everything he said was the most important thing in the world

It irritated Aaron how smug he was

"Should have thought about before you started acting like a pratt" Aaron poked at his chest, warning him not to carry on

"Please spare me" Robert sighed, trying to escape Aaron's intense stare "it was a joke, relax" he gave Aaron that ridiculous smirk, the one that appeared when he thought he'd won. Aaron seriously contemplated wiping it off his face with a sharp punch

Not wanting to get kicked out on his first day, however, he gave Robert a shove instead

"Well if you try it again, I'll be the one laughing by the time I'm done with you" Aaron threatened him, voice low and eyes dark

Robert just laughed to himself

"Oh no I'm quaking in my boots" with that he strolled off to his friends, but not without shoving Aaron firmly with his shoulder, which happened to be quite hard

Despite his best efforts, Aaron failed to keep his mind off of Robert during his free period. He couldn't deny how good he'd looked in that leather jacket, even if he was being a prick.

Over the past week, he hadn't been able to get the boy off his mind, which to be honest wasn't unusual, but ever since that night at the club his mind had been racing with thoughts of him. Aaron couldn't lie, seeing Robert all over Katie had stung, he'd imagined himself in her place so many times, actually getting to see Robert like that was something he never thought would become a reality. Unfortunately for him, Robert's hands weren't roaming over his body, but hers

He'd tried to suppress the feelings of anger that bubbled in him whenever he saw any of Roberts conquests, but it had been especially hard when Katie was always showing up in the village, Andy by her side

The nerve of her, to gossip about Robert, to slag him off so openly and look down on him and all the girls who willingly fell for his charms, yet let herself become one of those girls. Aaron knew he had no right to judge her, especially not when he'd been fairly open in his dislike of Robert and still continued to long for the blond.

It didn't matter, Aaron thought, he hadn't actually gone there (not like Robert would ever offer, being very straight) and he didn't have a boyfriend he was cheating on, and with his brother no less!

The possessive jealousy inside him would feel bitter towards Katie and all of Robert's girls, no matter how stupid it was, for they all had what he wanted more than anything.

He just couldn't help it, he would always feel like this towards the lad, he wished he didn't but he did, and it seemed there wasn't much he could do

Chewing the lid of his pen, Aaron flicked through the pages of the notebook in front of him, every one empty. He was supposed to be making notes on circuits, but his mind had slipped off to other places. He kept fiddling, unable to find the strength to start working

Suddenly his jacket pockets were the most interesting thing. Repeatedly he played with the zipper, up and down and up and down, until something tumbled out from one of the pockets and down onto the floor

Curious, Aaron picked it up, it was a scrunched up piece of paper that definitely wasn't in there before

Aaron smoothed out the paper to reveal a message

Meet me outside of 228 at 3

Don't be late

Aaron took a look at the library clock,2:50. Could he really be bothered waiting around at three instead of going home? No, not really, but he wanted to know who'd left the note and what they wanted.

Maybe whoever it was had been involved with the time table mix up, at first he thought it was just the school and first day stress, but now he wasn't so sure, it couldn't be a coincidence could it?

Maybe it was Robert being stupid again and Aaron was overthinking? But he couldn't see the lad going to all this trouble for a joke.

That was how Aaron found himself walking over to an abandoned classroom that hadn't been used since the 90s, eager to find out what was so urgent.

At 3:07 when nobody had shown, he was beginning to think he'd been had and cursed himself for being a gullible idiot and made his way to move

That was until a certain someone emerged from round the corner of the old halls and grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving

Robert Sugden really was unbelievable

"This another one of your jokes?" Aaron questioned, yanking his arm from Robert's grasp

The taller lad just got closer, before crossing his arms and leaning against the door

"No" Robert finally spoke, it was short and simple and it provided no explanation to why Aaron was there

"So what do you want then?" He was becoming quite frustrated with Robert, it was 3:10 and he should be on the warm bus home

After an uncomfortable silence, in which Robert stared at him with a look Aaron couldn't quite work out, he replied

"I saw you the other night" Aaron's eyes grew wide, great Rob was going to think he was some massive perv

"I'm just letting you know that if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut"

Typical, Aaron thought, once again Robert only cared about protecting himself

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone"

Robert titled his head slightly and gave him a questioning glance as if he was trying to work out whether Aaron was lying

"Good" seemingly he decided Aaron was being genuine

"Chrissie doesn't need to know"

"You two official then?" Last Aaron checked it was just a fling, Robert never one to actually have a steady relationship, the pang of jealousy hit his chest

"Why do you care?" Robert shot back, not liking Aaron's cocky tone

"Oh I don't, think she will though when she finds out about you and Katie" he smirked at Robert, who suddenly stiffened "and what about poor Andy and daddy dearest, doubt they'd be pleased"

Suddenly Robert lunged forward and pushed him into a wall, glaring at him

Aaron felt the wind knock out of him as his back hit the hard surface with force

Looking up, he met Roberts eyes, dark with anger

"I swear to god if you open your trap to anyone" Robert's voice was deep like gravel, Aaron had never seen him like this, so furious

"I won't" Aaron although not scared of Robert, didn't really want to fight the lad, so he tried to dissolve the situation. Besides he hadn't been serious about telling Chrissie, he'd let his jealousy get the better of him

The pair held eye contact for what felt like years, and for a split second Aaron was convinced Robert's eyes flicked down to his lips, but it was fleeting, as not long after Rob unclenched his fists from Aaron's shirt and stepped back

Taking a sharp inhale he looked up at Aaron again

"Go" his voice was much quieter now, but Aaron could still feel the venom on his tongue

Not too fond of Robert in this state, and certainly not wanting to be at the end of his fist, Aaron flung out the door like a shot

--------------

On the bus ride home, he kept replaying that moment when Robert's eyes had found their way to his lips. Yes it was brief, but Aaron had seen it, and he'd also seen the way Rob's tongue had darted over his own mouth, and the breath in his throat had hitched

He couldn't stop the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach just thinking about it, despite how Robert had behaved earlier

It seemed he'd left the derelict classroom with far more questions than answers

#Chapter 4!!#robron #emmerdale #my work #Aaron Dingle #robert sugden #fanfic #.

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hajimesh · 6 years

Text

By His Side

Word Count: 4.4k

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Summary: Based on this “You cannot change the past, but you can shape the present to create the future.” Victorian AU

A/N: This was requested by a lovely anon, it’s a bit long but i’m very happy of how it turned out. please let me know what you think! i need validation heheh. *gif not mine*

Masterlist

Since the day he saw you he was captivated by you. You were at the farmer’s market, in the closest town to Allerdale Hall, standing next to a pile of red apples admiring them. He watched you from afar and when he noticed you were making your way to the bookstore, he followed you. He saw you approaching the paranormal section, so he took it as a chance and walked towards you. Your hat partially shielded your face from him, so you didn’t notice him standing next to you until he spoke.

“Is that a fan of ghost stories what I see?” His voice was gentle but had a flirty undertone in it.

You turned quickly towards the voice and the sight made you blush. A man with dark curly hair, pale skin and beautiful eyes stared at you. He looked in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties. He was very well dressed and had a strong presence in the room, but what captivated you the most were his eyes. Baby blue eyes adorned with long lashes looking at you expectantly.

Smiling shyly at him, you lightly lowered your head to hide the warmth colouring your cheeks and answered him. “I find them very intriguing, Sir.”

“Thomas Sharpe. But please, call me Thomas.” As you lifted your gaze, you noticed him smiling bashfully at you. “If it is not too forward from me, may I know your name?”

You shook your head and told him your name. His smile got wider, if that’s even possible, and he stretched his hand towards you. You took it and he brought your hand to his mouth, his lips kissing softly your knuckles as he stared at you.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

You couldn’t help but blush again. This man was going to be the death of you!

As you placed your hand back to your side, you tried to look composed and relaxed. “Thomas, if you don’t mind me asking but, do you live here? In the town, I mean.” You had been here for a week and a half and you had never seen him around, you wondered if he was a traveler or if you just had been unlucky, not having seen him before today.

“I don’t mind. And to answer your question, no. I live in Allerdale Hall. It’s around one maybe two hours away from here.” He explained and you couldn’t help but open your eyes in surprise. Luckily he didn’t seem to notice and continued speaking.

“But you…” he looked at you suspiciously and with a playful smile. “You are a foreigner, are you not?”

You nodded meekly and smiled. “That I am.”

“Ah, yes. If you were from here I’d certainly recall such lovely face.” His eyes twinkled and you laughed.

“How charming, Thomas.” Once your laughing died down you noticed you had been here for quite a while and it was getting late. You still had some errands to run but you didn’t want to leave. Thomas was great company.

“I am afraid I must leave. It was nice meeting you Thomas Sharpe.”

“Would you like me to escort you back home? A lady like you should not walk alone.” His face showed concern and you were touched by it.

“I appreciate your concern but it will not be necessary. I’ve got the impression that we will be meeting again, Thomas.” In an act of bravery you winked at him. It was improper, but you felt like you had known this man for you entire life.

You could see the tip of his ears growing red but his smile never faltered.

“So do I, my dear.”

* * * *

You saw Thomas two weeks after your first meeting.

Mrs. Dudley, a very short sweet lady and owner of the room you were staying at, gave you an envelope addressed to you from the Sharpe’s. They were inviting you to the annual ball, in memory of Lady Beatrice Alexandra Sharpe, Thomas’ mother. Mrs. Dudley told you all about the Sharpe’s: from Thomas’ title as a baronet, which you already knew, to his sister Lucille and the red clay mines. Everyone in town seemed to think the Sharpe’s were a very strange family and they tried to evade them as much as they could, but Mrs. Dudley assured you that Thomas was a gentleman and a good person, nothing like Lucille.

With the help of Mrs. Dudley, you found a beautiful gown for the ball. It was made with the finest fabrics you could find in town in a deep green colour, which contrasted beautifully with your skin. You had matching gloves and shoes. Your hair was pinned at the top of your head and once you finished your make up you were ready to go.

There was a carriage sent to the town to fetch you, curtesy of the Sharpe’s. During the drive to Allerdale Hall your mind wandered towards Thomas’ sister, Lucille. From what Mrs. Dudley told you, she was a very beautiful woman but there was something in her that didn’t feel right. She was always composed and her words where carefully measured, as if she had practiced them beforehand. You only hoped you didn’t get on her bad side and perhaps you could be friends.

You were so lost in your head that you didn’t notice when you arrived. There was quite a crowd outside the house. High born Ladies and Lords, with the finest gowns and suits you had ever seen in your life stepped out of the carriages and made their way to the house. All women had their necks and ears adorned with extravagant jewels and elegant yet forced smiles. It’s not like you weren’t used to it, being a high born yourself, but all the hypocrisy that accompanied this events was tiring for you.

Once you were out of the carriage, you thanked the driver and walked to the entrance.

The gates were huge and they were adorned with columns of flower arrangements and candles. It all looked like it came out from a fairytale. Laughter filled your ears as you got closer, men and women talked while the band played a soft, happy tune. You smiled at the sight, it had been months since you had assisted a ball and the fact that you would be seeing Thomas made you giddy and excited.

You kept walking and looking all over the place when your eyes met a pair of blue ones not too far away from you. Your breath caught in your throat, Thomas looked as dashing as always. His suit fitting him perfectly with his hair gelled back and the brightest smile. His eyes seemed to glow under the candlelight, looking crystal clear. Unbeknownst to you, he was also having trouble finding his breath after seeing you enter through the gates.

He made his way to you and time seemed to stop. Everyone freezing and standing still, everyone but you. Extending his arm, he finally talked to you. “Will you honour me with your hand for a waltz?”

You felt butterflies erupt in your belly. Nodding your head, you accepted his arm and he brought you to the dance floor. Once the music began, he placed one hand on your waist and interlaced the other one with your hand.

A nice, slow paced waltz began to play and you couldn’t help yourself from getting lost in his eyes. He looked at you and it felt he was looking at your very soul, a smile grazing his lips. You were in awe and your face showed it. With a love struck smile, you kept staring at him thorough the dance, never breaking eye contact, only when he turned you in circles, but you quickly found his eyes again. You were so lost in each other that you momentarily forgot where you were.

“I must say, you’re making every woman in the room feel insecure.” He murmured while still looking at you. You must have looked confused because he proceeded to explain himself. “You look beautiful, darling. The most beautiful woman in this room, I dare to say.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, but it didn’t stop you from answering him. “Only in this room?” You fake pouted at him and then laughed at his reaction, his eyes opened and a blush began to crept on his cheeks.

“I mean, I’m sure you are the most beautiful woman in the whole country. I-I just… I–”

Your laugh stopped his rambling and he realized what you had done. He rolled his eyes playfully but smiled nonetheless.

“That was rather mean, my dear.” He feigned annoyance but his cheeky grin betrayed him.

The music stoped and Thomas, being the gentleman he was, removed his hand from your waist and guided you towards a chair so you could refresh yourself.

“You surely know how to dance, Thomas.”

Watching him laugh got you in a trance. His head fell back and his eyes closed tightly, making wrinkles appear around them. His smile was wide and bright, giving him a glowing aura you had never seen in anyone else.

“I’m glad I was enough for your standards, dear.” He teased and you smiled.

You knew everyone was looking at the both of you after Thomas’ loud laugh. There were whispers and judging glances around you but you paid no mind. Sadly, a clearing throat behind you got your attention and you saw Thomas posture go rigid and his smile disappeared.

Turning in your seat to face the intruder, your eyes came face to face with a deep red corset. As you trailed your eyes upwards, you felt yourself grow scared, as if you had been caught doing something bad. Once you reached the face you gulped and stood up. There it was, Lucille Sharpe standing before you. You only needed a glance at her cold eyes to know that. Mrs. Dudley wasn’t messing with you when she said she could be rather intimidating.

“Lucille.” Thomas seemed to hesitate for a second, looking between her and you, but finally setting his eyes on the floor, hands tucked on his pockets. “This is–”

But he was cut short by her. “Your guest from the town.”

She didn’t seem pleased with your presence but she smiled at you, so fast that you thought you imagined it.

“It’s nice to meet you. You must be Thomas’ sister.” You tried to be polite but apparently you only got things worse.

She flinched and her face went stoic at the name. “Mrs. Sharpe. Lucille Sharpe.”

You frowned at her remark, it sounded oddly possessive and it didn’t make any sense, but you let it slip not knowing what else could it mean. Looking at Thomas, you saw him stare at his sister with a lost face. His eyes looked dull and you found yourself frowning at him. He must have felt your stare because he switched his gaze towards you and all the life seemed to come back to his body.

“Sister,” Thomas turned to her trying to draw her attention on him. “Miss Enola Stewart asked for you. Said she had a very important matter to discuss with you.”

Lucille kept staring at you when she answered him. “I should go find her, then.”

Thomas looked at Lucille and it seemed like he was pleading her. What? You did not know. Without another word, she glanced at Thomas one more time and left.

You didn’t see her for the rest of the ball.

* * * *

After Lucille’s interruption at the ball you didn’t have much more time to talk with Thomas. Gentlemen approached you for a dance and even if you refused at first, you couldn’t do it with every man that asked you, that would be rude. So you danced with other men, distant relatives of the Sharpe’s, until it was time for dinner. But you didn’t stay much longer after that. Your feet hurt, so you decided to call it a day and go home.

Mrs. Dudley asked you all the details the next morning. You told her about the incident with Lucille and she told you to be more careful.

“I’m telling you, child. She’s evil.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Some even say she’s the devil herself.”

You felt chills run through your body at that. But you knew she was exaggerating, gossiping seemed to be a usual thing in this town.

After your talk with her, you decided to go for a walk, perhaps go to the bookstore and purchase a book to entertain yourself. Grabbing your coat, you made your way out of the house and began your walk. The clouds were grey, light rain falling from them. It was autumn and the mix between rain and breeze made the air colder. You walked quickly but careful of not staining the end of your dress with mud. After five minutes, you finally reached the bookstore and quickly made your way inside.

The warmth engulfed you and you sighed in relief. You took off your coat and carried it on your arm as you walked towards the paranormal section. But to your surprise, Thomas was already there, sitting on a small sofa with a cup of tea on his hands.

“Mind if I join you?” You whispered on his ear making him jolt in surprise. Once he realized it was you, he smiled and let out a relieved laugh.

“Of course not. Come and sit with me, darling.” He made room for you to sit and you ended up squished against him, your faces were so close that you could only focus on his eyes.

He offered you a cup of tea and you accepted it, sipping carefully to avoid burning your tongue. A few minutes passed by in complete silence, just you and him drinking tea while staring at the fire in front of you.

Thomas was the first one to break the silence. “Where are you from?”

You looked at him with a confused look on your face, he caught you off guard. Noticing your face, he quickly tried to explain himself. “I’m sorry I just realized I never asked.”

“America. But I came here to escape my family.” Playing with the fabric of your dress, you looked down at your lap, avoiding his stare. “T-they were arranging my marriage with a man I don’t know. So, I wanted to be free for a while, experience the world. But I know that eventually I will have to return.”

Your sad tone made him frown, feeling his hopes going down the drain. It didn’t matter that he had met you a few weeks ago, because he knew you had already made your way into his heart. “Must you go back home?”

You sighed and finally looked at him again, this time with a sad smile. “Once I run out of money, yeah, I suppose.”

Silence sat between the both of you again. Thomas still processing what you just told him and you trying to steer away the disturbing images of you marrying someone you don’t love.

“Have you ever been in love?” This time, it was you who caught him by surprise. “I wonder what it feels like.”

Thomas cleared his throat and seemed to think for a bit before finally answering you. “I wouldn’t say I have but, from what I have read, many books describe it as a fuzzy feeling that brings warmth to your soul by the mere presence of your loved one or the thought of them.” He paused and took this time to face you. Smiling fondly at you, he continued. “You feel as if you’re floating, wanting to spend every living moment with them.”

The look in his eyes made your heart clench. His blue eyes were laced with longing and love. “It seems you’re very familiar with the feeling.”

You couldn’t hide the bitter tone in your voice. You had to admit you had been harbouring feelings for him for the past two weeks and the fact he was already in love with someone else made you loose hope.

His breathy laugh got you out of your thoughts. He kept staring at you with all those emotions swirling in his eyes and a smile made its way to his lips. “I cannot deny I’ve been feeling like that since the day I met you.”

You felt your heart stop and then start beating again but much faster and stronger than before. Your mind went crazy with a million thoughts and questions. You must have looked horrified because a few seconds later Thomas was apologizing.

“Forgive me, that was very forward of me.” Gazing down to his lap, his smile was gone and you could see the light tint on his cheeks. Did he think you were rejecting him?

Grabbing his face, you lifted it and turned it towards you. You saw his confused stare and you smiled softly at him. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve been feeling like that too.”

Smiling like two lovesick teenagers, you spent the rest of the day at the bookstore. Sharing shy glances and bright smiles.

* * * *

Since that day, You and Thomas were inseparable.

He always came to town to visit you, take you out on strolls or just for tea. A few days after his confession he began to court you. He said he felt bad for not asking for permission properly to your father, but you assured him it was fine. Mrs. Dudley loved him, Thomas got on her good side when he brought her a bouquet of flowers and pastries as a gift for letting him visit you.

One day you were walking around the streets with Thomas when you bumped into an old man. The man looked up at you and began to apologize but stoped abruptly when he noticed Thomas by your side.

“Evil creature! Go back to your mansion and don’t come back! Monster!” The man was in hysterics. He had a burning rage in his eyes directed at Thomas.

He went rigid and his face looked stoic while you looked surprised by the old man’s outburst.

“Sir! That’s no way to treat someone. Let alone someone you don’t know.” You reprimanded him but it fell on deaf ears.

“You’ll do good in getting away from him, child. This isn’t a person, this is the devil.”

Your mind quickly went to Mrs. Dudley words about Lucille. She had also called her the devil. It must be a coincidence, right?

Ignoring the man’s yells and insults, you dragged Thomas away by his hand. You kept walking until you found a bench and sat down on it, motioning for Thomas to sit down as well. He hesitated but eventually gave up and sat down, but you couldn’t help but notice the distance he had placed between the both of you.

“Thomas? Are you all right?” You were concerned, his face unreadable as he looked away from you. Forcing him to look at you, you grabbed his chin and guided his face to yours. “Thomas, you don’t believe what this man said. Right?”

His silence was your answer.

“Oh, dear.” Sadness filled your heart and you hugged him without a second thought. You felt him grow rigid under your embrace but after a second he relaxed and hugged you back. “That man doesn’t know how incredible you are. He had no right to say such things about you!”

You grabbed him by the shoulders, getting him at arms length so you could face him properly. His playful eyes now looked dull and guilty. It broke your heart to see him so broken, so vulnerable.

“Thomas, please. Look at me.”

Finally looking at you, he sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t deserve you.” Once he opened his eyes, he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle. “You are so good to me.”

“That’s because you are good to me as well.” You whispered and eyed him carefully, afraid of scaring him away.

Making your way closer to him, you slowly leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. He stared at you with a mix of surprise and confusion, before a small smile appeared on his lips. Thomas let go of your hands and grabbed your face instead. Leaning forward, he asked for permission with his eyes and you nodded your head. Cold lips met your own and your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. He caressed your cheeks with his fingers and you couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling. Thomas took this as a chance to deepen the kiss, gently stroking his tongue on yours and then capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Your cheeks were flushed and he had a cheeky grin. Things couldn’t get better.

* * * *

But they did get worse.

When you heard about what Thomas and Lucille did alone, or about the murder of their mother, you couldn’t help but feel so broken and betrayed. A nauseating feeling settled in the pit of your stomach threatening to make you vomit. You needed answers, so when Thomas came around noon to his daily visit, you demanded him to explain and tell you the truth.

Seeing you flinch away from him when he tried to reach out for you made his heart squeeze in pain. He closed his eyes and sighed, knowing that lying would be useless. “I once read this line in one of the books you recommended me: You cannot change the past.” He admitted, his strong tone wavering slightly. Then, he opened his eyes and continued. “But you can shape the present to create the future.” He murmured softly, his breath gently fanning on your face as his eyes searched for yours, begging you to see him, all of him. He knew what he did was wrong, so wrong and sinful; but he was willing to put it all behind and show you how much love and care he had for you.

You knew you loved him, you wanted to believe him but what he did was monstrous and you didn’t know if you’d ever forget that.

“How do I know you will not do it again?” Your voice was firm, your eyes staring him down. Daring him to lie to you. “T-that you have changed. How do I know that?” The light stuttering in your voice broke his heart. He was causing you so much pain and he was the only one at fault.

“Because you are all I ever wanted and loosing you will utterly break my heart.” Conviction laced his voice, his eyes holding your gaze and his hands grasping your shoulders with a firm but gentle grip at the same time. “I love you, more than anything. And I want nothing more but to share my life with you, for whatever’s left of it, and to be by your side. My heart beats and lives only for you, in fact, I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine. A-and should that link be broken, either by distance or by time, my heart will cease to beat and I would die. And you…” He sighed, feeling the defeat consuming his soul while tears fell freely down his cheeks. “You would soon forget about me.”

You felt your heart shatter at the sight of him. The conflict in your soul made you doubt yourself. Was it right to let him go, leave and never see him again? Or does he really mean to change and put such horrid past behind? Drowning in anguish and pain, a sob racked your body as it made its way past your throat escaping through your mouth. Doubling over yourself, you breathed and closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself.

Thomas felt his soul leave his body as more minutes passed and you didn’t say anything. To say he was scared was an understatement, he was terrified and he regretted everything he had ever done in the past. He knew he was the unworthiest person for you and that you deserved better, but he was selfish and he meant it what he said his heart was linked to yours; he loved you and a life without you in it wasn’t worth living for. He felt so helpless and so defeated that he began to sob as well.

You lifted your head when you heard his cries. Supporting himself on the wall, with a wild and distraught look in his face, he stared at the floor as shame washed over him. One look at his eyes, red rimmed and filled with tears, was all it took for you to accept him. “I would never forget about you, Thomas.”

Getting close to him, you wrapped your arms around his middle as he finally let his sobs out, raking his body and breaking him. You felt his weight on you and you hugged him even tighter. His knees gave up and he fell to the floor, dragging you along with him.

“I’m so sorry, so so sorry.” His cries got muffled when you guided his face to the crook of your neck. “…so sorry, I’m a monster.” Heavy breaths fell on your neck along with his tears.

You hugged him by the shoulders and let him cry out his pain. Pulling away his hair from his sweaty forehead, you forced him to look at you. “We will get through this, together. But you have to promise to try and do your best because I-I can’t do this alone.”

After kissing him on his forehead, you nestled him back to your chest and held him tightly, as if it could glue back the pieces of his shattered heart.

“I promise.” He whispered and you barely heard him. “I promise I will be the man you deserve and I will love you so much, never doubt that my darling.” Still hugging you, he lifted his head to gaze at you, straight to your eyes. He looked like a lost little boy, desperation clear in his blue eyes. You felt your throat constrict and a painful tug in your chest as you looked at him.

“And I will love you, Thomas.”

He smiled at you and you rubbed his rosy cheeks. You belonged to each other, you knew it and no one could convince you otherwise. Thomas sat up and rested his forehead on yours, rubbing your noses together and you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

You adored him, and he adored you back. And nothing felt more right than to be by his side.

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velveil · 7 years

Photo

all work and no play never made me lose it || a playlist for clementine

listen here

tracklist and lyrics under the cut

still sane, lorde

all work and no play, never made me lose it / all business all day, keeps me up a level…all work and no play, let me count the bruises

kill to know, amy miles

i know something you’d kill to know / i’ll go public in my own time

extraordinary machine, fiona apple

if there was a better way to go then it would find me / i can’t help it, the road just rolls out behind me / be kind to me, or treat me mean / i’ll make the most of it, i’m an extraordinary machine

the hardest part, washington

i tell the truth; i lie a lot

i know the way / i know it’s hard

good intent, kimbra

clementine told you not to move with the breeze… but the air turns somber and the night took thee / took you on a waltz of hypocrisy… i know you didn’t mean it, boy you meant so well / the pennies are cascading down your wishing well / i know you didn’t mean it when you counted to ten / you’re slipping through the fingers of your good intent

los agless, st vincent

how can anybody have you? how can anybody have you and lose you? how can anybody have you and lose you and not lose their minds, too?

murder on the dancefloor, sophie ellis-bextor

i know i know i know i know i know i know i know / about your kind / and so and so and so and so and so and so and so / i’ll have to play…

it’s murder on the dancefloor, but you better not kill the groove

don’t you evah, spoon

bet you got it all planned, right? bet you never worry, never even feel a fright

bet you never think it feels right / famous-sounding words make your head feel light

eyes on fire, blue foundation

and i’m not scared of your stolen power

i’m taking it slow, feeding my flame / shuffling the cards of your game / and just in time, in the right place / suddenly i will play my ace

happy birthday, johnny, st vincent

what happened to blood, our family? annie, how could you do this to me? of course, i blame me / when you get free, johnny / i hope you find peace

#clementine #playlist

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hysterialevi · 7 years

Text

In the Smoke pt. 10 (Cobblebats)

From Thomas’ POV

Sneaking through the auditorium, my drones quietly followed alongside me, hovering in the shadows as the debate carried on. So far, there had been no sign of Penguin or his men, and things were relatively peaceful, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. This debate was just a time bomb waiting to go off, and if I didn’t find Penguin before then, both Hill and Dent were dead.

Hopping from one beam to another, I suddenly caught the thick stench of blood and gunpowder, a sense of caution starting to grow in me. Looking down to find the source of the morbid odor, I spotted a grotesque pile of corpses lying in a room, and it was surrounded by a group of unfamiliar men. It didn’t take too much effort to recognize the GCPD uniform adorning the bodies, but I had no idea who the others were. Most-likely, they belonged to Penguin. Shit.

Activating my earpiece, I switched the line over to Gordon.

“Gordon,” I whispered, “I found one of your patrols. They’re dead. They’ve been killed by who I assume to be Penguin’s men.”

The lieutenant cursed. “Christ. That explains why they haven’t been responding. What about Penguin? Have you seen him anywhere?”

“Not yet. Though, I bet if I could get a hold on one of his men, I might be able to pull some info out of them.”

Gordon sighed. “I guess we’ve got no other choice at this point, do we? It’s clear that neither Hill nor Dent are leaving the debate anytime soon, and we don’t have long until Penguin decides to blow this place off the map. All right. Do what you gotta do. I’ll continue to keep watch on the perimeter--make sure no one tries to sneak in. Keep me updated, would you?”

“You’ll be the first to know if anything--”

“So sorry, ladies and gents,” out of nowhere, a boisterous voice on the TV interrupted me, causing me to snap my head towards the screen. I could see Penguin waltzing onto the stage, strutting like he didn’t have a care in the world as he approached the center. “As you might’ve guessed, there’s been a change to tonight’s program.”

Penguin stopped in his tracks, aiming a gun at the moderator. “First order of business--” a violent splash of blood sprayed from the back of the man’s head with a loud bang as he collapsed to the floor, and a choir of screams emitted from the crowd, “--firing the moderator!”

“Batman?” Gordon checked, “you still there? What’s going on?”

“It’s Penguin--” I hastily replied, “he’s just killed the moderator.”

“What!? Goddammit. We gotta get in there. Now. Do whatever you can to keep the people safe. My men and I will be there as soon as possible.”

“Understood.” I switched over to Alfred.

“Alfred, Penguin’s just begun his attack on the debate. I need you to pilot the drones while I deal with his men.”

“Of course, sir. Whenever you’re ready.”

Taking out a smoke grenade, I tossed the weapon into the room below and clouded up the air while Penguin’s men darted around in confusion, giving me the chance to leap down and deal with them up-close. I hurled a number of Batarangs in every direction, and used the grapple-gun to slingshot furniture directly into them, slamming them against the walls as they fired random bullets out of panic.

Dodging their reckless attacks, I bulldozed towards them and threw a flurry of punches, knocking them out one by one as quickly as I could while Penguin continued to terrorize the debate, parading around the stage like it was a damn play.

Once the smoke finally cleared up, I saw one of Penguin’s men weakly dragging himself across the floor in an attempt to reach his walkie-talkie, extending a wobbly arm out. Before he could get any closer though, I simply stomped my foot on his neck and applied just enough pressure to send him into unconsciousness, leaving me alone in the room.

“We need a new moderator,” Penguin announced, stepping off to the side to find a ‘volunteer.’ “You there! You’ll do!”

At first, I wasn’t incredibly concerned about what Penguin was doing at the moment, and focused all my attention on my current task, but when I saw who he had brought with him on stage, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

Being manhandled around and held at gunpoint by Penguin, was none other than my son, Bruce. He looked like hell, and judging by the multiple bruises on his skin, it was obvious that he had been beaten to some extent before the debate.

Clenching my fists, I felt a surge of anger flash through me and I almost tried to jump through the TV screen just so that I could strangle Penguin for what he did. He was going to regret targeting my son, and if I had any say in it, he was never going to do it again.

On the bright side though, at least I knew that Bruce was still alive. That meant tonight was my only chance to save him, and I’d be damned if I didn’t take it.

From Bruce’s POV

Oz shoved me towards the front of the stage with an iron grip, making sure that everyone could see me--especially Harvey--and at some points, it almost felt like he forgot we were just acting. I didn’t know what Oz’s plans with Harvey were, but just by glancing over at the man, I could tell that he was about to start flipping tables while Hill was just frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

“Go on, then--” Oz gave me a little nudge, “--introduce the candidates!”

I said nothing in return, just like he told me to do earlier, and kept my mouth shut as everyone nailed their gazes onto me, waiting to see what he had planned next.

Oz leaned in so close that he was right next to my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

“Stage fright, huh? All right, I’ll get you started...but this is your show.”

He flamboyantly gestured over to Hill with insincere excitement, dragging me along with him. “On the left--hard of heart, soft in the gut--our down and dirty incumbent, Mayor Hill! And on the right--always smiling to your face--our despicable DA, Harvey Dent!”

To my surprise, before Oz could continue, Harvey spoke up.

“...bird...mask...guy,” he blurted out awkwardly, “...whatever your name is--”

This man is the District Attorney, I told myself. This is the man running for mayor.

Oz almost lost it right there, but regained his composure. “Call me Penguin.”

“Yes, of course,” Harvey complied. “Penguin then. We will play your game--just, please,” he looked over at me with an amount of care I’d never seen in anyone else other than my own parents, “let these people go.”

I could practically feel Oz smiling under his mask,. “Oh, I wish it were that easy, Dent. But, you see, this city’s got a real problem when it comes to tellin’ the truth. Lie after lie, those at the top of Gotham only get worse with each passing year, and its citizens are still blind to the hypocrisy, but not anymore.”

Oz took out a syringe of the same blue chemical we saw in the footage with his mother and pointed it directly at my neck, the needle just kissing my skin.

“I’m giving you one chance, Wayne. Tell everyone the truth about what your family’s done--what you father’s done--and why you’re really so bloody powerful. Do this, and I might just let you go.”

I did my best to look frightened, and the audience actually seemed to buy it. Our plan was working.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered. “My father’s done nothing.”

He threw a light punch to my stomach, but it was enough to make me cough. Oz was definitely stronger than he looked.

“This,” he exclaimed, “is why Gotham’s so full of corruption! Because no one’s brave enough to spill the truth. Too damn worried about protecting their own reputation.” He flicked the side of the syringe. “Sorry, mate, but it looks like I’m gonna have to force it outta you.”

Oz pushed my head slightly so that he could access my neck easier, and prepared to stick me with the insane drug, until Harvey nearly threw himself over the podium, interrupting the procedure.

“Wait!” He reached an arm out.

Judging by Oz’s reaction, this was exactly what he had in mind. “Ah, got somethin’ to say, Dent?”

Harvey cautiously inched his way to us, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Please,” he begged, “don’t...don’t hurt him. If you must take someone, then take me.”

Wait. I paused. This was not a part of the plan. No one ever said anything about drugging Harvey--or at least, they didn’t to me. I glanced back at Oz in bewilderment, silently asking for an explanation from my “captor,” only to be ignored as he pushed me off to the side.

“Your compassion will be the end of you, Dent.” Oz said.

Harvey lowered his head in shame. “...I know.” But he wasn’t done yet.

Striding across the stage and over to me, all of us observed his next movements in heightened curiosity as he warmly approached me, leaving only mere centimeters between us. Harvey gently grabbed my hand and began stroking my cheek with the other, rendering me all but immobile. What the hell was he doing?

“...I can’t believe it’s taken this for me to say it,” Harvey whispered in a mixture of sorrow and regret, “but...I love you, Bruce.”

It didn’t look like anyone else was able to hear what he just said, but the news hit me like a truck of guilt. Here I was, taking advantage of one of my closest friends, and luring him into a trap that was most-likely going to kill him, and he just admitted to loving me. What kind of monster was I?

Even after Harvey let go of my hand, I remained motionless and wide-eyed, blinking in shock as the other man allowed Oz to dose him with the drug.

“...no,” I shook my head at Oz, no longer okay with where this was going, “wait--”

Before I could object any further, Roland wasted no time in pulling me off the stage and restraining me with nothing but his own, raw strength. For a moment, I tried to struggle out of his insane grasp, only to have my arms bent in painful directions as a warning.

Having no intentions to get injured, I stayed confined in Roland’s hold, helplessly watching as Oz jabbed the needle into Harvey’s flesh, causing his veins to transform into an aggressive blue and his body to start twitching. What had I done to him?

Just then, the doors to the auditorium blasted open, revealing a line of police officers in the entryway with Gordon in the middle. The other Children of Arkham immediately went to work and started attacking them, a storm of bullets bolting through the air as civilians scurried around in panic, all hell breaking loose within the span of a few seconds. And as if things weren’t chaotic enough already, Batman himself suddenly jumped into the scene as well, swatting our men away like they were flies.

Overwhelmed by the hectic turn of events, I sat off to the side of stage, paralyzed in place even though Roland had released me long ago, watching the hurricane unfold, until a familiar scream reached my ears.

Whipping around, I saw Harvey lying defenselessly on the wooden floor with Oz towering above him, about to smash a detached, searing-hot spotlight directly onto his face. Breaking out of my stupor-like state, I hopped up from my position and began sprinting towards the two of them in hopes of preventing what was about to be a horrible accident--that was--until I was yanked downwards by an unknown assailant, and practically engraved into the floor beneath me.

Straddling me in order to keep me from escaping, Hill locked me in place with his own weight, and snatched the syringe Oz had used earlier, staring at the small amount of liquid that still remained in the tube.

“He’ll kill both of us if one of us doesn’t tell the truth!” Hill babbled in a frantic tone. “I’m sorry, Bruce. This has to be done.”

Not even having the time to resist, a prick of pain abruptly stung my arm, and my vision started to blur with a blue tint as the world around me spun in a slow, disorienting manner, Hill’s figure duplicating in front of me.

I had no idea what was happening or where Oz had gone, but all the noise in the auditorium had blended into a frenzied, echoing mess, and an uncontrollable spark of rage began to ignite inside me.

“...Bruce...?” Hill’s voice bounced off the walls of my skull like a bell.

Without even meaning to, I grabbed at the man’s neck with a level of strength I didn’t know I contained and hurled him under me, switching our positions.

“You,” I growled in almost an inhuman tone as I gripped his collar, “you killed my mother...!” I slammed the back of his head into the floor. I could hardly recognize myself. “You took her away from me!” Another slam. “You’re a murderer...and you’re going to pay...!”

As if my body had a mind of its own, I found myself throwing punch after punch at Hill, unable to stop as my knuckles only got more bruised and bloody, the mayor gaping at me with terror in his eyes, his life draining from them.

No, I mentally shouted at myself, what are you doing!? Stop!

Despite all my attempts to resist it, I kept on beating the fallen politician and only continued to ravage the swollen pulp that was once his face, hammering his head into nothing but a red mush.

Stop, I yelled once again.

I couldn’t.

Stop!

I could hear the voices of other people trying to pull me off, including Gordon and my own father, screaming at me in desperation, but to no avail.

STOP!

Suddenly, my vision started to darken, and I felt myself weakening with every passing moment, my body finally giving in to the drug as I collapsed into unconsciousness, and the world turned black.

#cobblebats #batman telltale #bruce wayne #oswald cobblepot #harvey dent #fanfic #story

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not-music · 7 years

Video

youtube

Good Intent by Kimbra from Vows (2011)

You heard the crickets of the early eve They lurk around the opening in two's and three's Clementine told you not to move with the breeze I'll take you down to places where we dare not speak

The red light in the doorway says she's armed But boy go try your luck and you might get pass Step into the dwelling of the liger's mouth Peer into the panic for a kick and swell You know you shouldn't be there but it's way past bed There's comfort in the fingers of your good intent You know you shouldn't be there but your money's all spent You've got your reputation and your good intent

Out to feed that habit when you've sowed that seed Nothing made you feel out of the ordinary But the air turns sombre and the night took heed Took you on a waltz of hypocrisy She broke your bones, now you're lying in the dirt The shadow of a hunter under your torture It's not enough to say, it's not what's in your heart You've tainted every moment till death do we part

I know you didn't mean it, boy you meant so well The pennies are cascading down your wishing well I know you didn't mean it when you counted to ten You're slipping through the fingers of your good intent

I know you didn't mean it, though you meant so well The pennies are cascading down your wishing well I know you didn't mean it when you counted to ten You've got your reputation and your good intent Such a good intent

It's not enough to hope for the best It's not enough to lie there on a breast The liger's on the prowl now you've pulled its strings One false move and soon you're playing dice for a-

#kimbra #good intent #vows #indie pop #nu soul #art pop #warner #warner music #warner music group #wmg

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funkymbtifiction · 8 years

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Ally Mcbeal: Larry Paul [ENTP]

OFFICIAL TYPING by Teilani | enfjs-r-us

Extroverted Intuition (Ne): “I have no Method, only madness” Quick-witted, funny and semi-incapable of staying on topic at times. Larry thinks and talks at a proverbial mile-a-minute, has a knack for snap judgments and is able to coherently interpret interconnections. Which in turn, leads to one of the reasons he initially gets under Ally's skin: he is right about her -- and her relationships. Even after only knowing her for less than five minutes.

Introverted Thinking (Ti): “You always talk in run-on sentences?”. Larry is blunt, analytical and collected. He may sometimes needs a moment to retract and organize his thoughts (like in a spirited debate with Ally) into usable form; once organized however, Larry enjoys expressing his conversational bullet-point of facts to support his argument and detecting the hypocrisies and incongruences in the opposing parties message. Larry also doesn't believe in sharing whats on his mind; he enjoys the challenge of trying to read someone instead of just being handed the answer.

Extroverted Feeling (Fe): Larry is good at detecting peoples motives. Larry sometimes uses this function to manipulate or undermine people in opposing cases in order to win; but he also uses this function to counsel and aid those around him. When Ally first waltzes into Larry’s office, expecting to find her therapist (who has moved away, leaving only one file; the one with Ally's name on it); and instead finds Larry moving into his new office, he entertains a conversation about Ally’s love life simply because she seems like she needed to talk. His advice wasn't all that bad, either; maybe thats why it took Ally so long to figure out he was an attorney -- like it said on the door -- instead of a therapist.

Introverted Sensing (Si): Larry’s a cynic about relationships at first, because he has learned to apply from his past experiences that most relationships don't work out; and he thinks that goes for all. Larry also has a specific idea of what the holidays should be and what they represent. As a result Larry resents and feels lonely around the holidays because they remind him of his son and all the the merry activities they did together.

#entp #c:entp #ally mcbeal #larry paul #robert downey jr.#official typing #character typing

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timclymer · 5 years

Text

It's A Wonderful Life

Sadly, many pro-choice advocates tend to label their counterparts primitive believers. It would seem that, to such ‘progressive’ people, all practices who oppose abortion are but lower species, and their faithful are merely a primitive herd. However, they do not dare to take a look at the man in the mirror, which is proof of hypocrisy and primitivism. Who is displaying a lack of tolerance in this story? Do not they say that a lack of tolerance is typical of primitivism?

What is the definition of primitivism? Every person must decide for themselves, because every person has been privileged on occasion, sooner or later in life (and by this I do not mean being in the cradle as a child, because this is where we are at our most tolerant). We should really think about it: if faith fosters love, compassion and kindness towards the other in people, then those who call all of this primitive must be the most primitive of all. Love connects people, hatred tears them apart. Each person, as a free individual, is entitled to free opinion, and life should be the judge of who’s right and who’s not. But how are we expected to get an answer from life if we kill it to begin with?

I do not know much about victories, but there is on thing I am sure of: compassion is the greatest of victories of the human spirit. I am writing from my own experience because, as a youth, I was a skeptic blinded by myself, by raw lust, alcohol, drugs, cynism, arrogance … and one day I arrived at the very edge of life. I thought I should simply leave this world because I never became as famous as I expected. I cheated on women who sincerityly loved me due to raw lust, and then I felt His hand on my shoulder. Even if you think that your aimless straying is over, know that you’ve only started off on the right path. , and it will take you into the hearts of many. Be the voice of those in need, be the voice of love, be the voice of freedom, and you will turn yourself and others into better people through your versions. “

Since that day, I feel much happier and fulfilled, not because I think that I’m special or free of sin, but because I realized that I am just a sinner who really wants to better himself, and I can safely say that there is a higher holy force that makes us better. I do not know what He looks like, but I do know He exists, with all my heart and soul. I will not attempt to look for Him here or there, because He teaches me that whenever you’re doing good to others, He is within you. Ever since then, I have learned that faith accounts for a strong spirit, which is any person’s best ally in times of temptation, because weak-spirited people will be the first to fall. Who is falling?

Those who fail to show compassion for others;

Those who are ready to rebuff themselves for the sake of power and money (such people become slaves to greed);

Those who hate more than they love;

Those who want to rule over nature (A person can only feel all the enchantment of nature if they love it as they love themselves, and in synergy with nature – the sun and the wind – people will create energy that will take them into space, to shake brotherly hands with other creatures of God);

Those who want to clone stem cells to create human beings in laboratories, while at the same time there are millions of people dying of hunger (We know that a human being is only complete with emotions, which comes from the soul that can never be created by another human);

Those who hope that hunger will decimate humanity, because there is too much people in this world anyway (If that happens, the cloned man shall rule, and tears, laugh, sorrow, hope and faith will be gone, as well as humans with souls );

Those who attempt to cure the emptiness within with futile lust (To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another – Leibniz);

Those who are afraid of solitude (of the man in the mirror);

Those who consider the faithful to be primitive.

Many people like to play with statistics, but I say that those who are slaves to statistics are slowly losing the most important thing that makes them human – their emotions. Yes, life teachers us that the day we master our own emotions, we lose them forever. And, regardless of statistics, we have to listen to our hearts, which tell us that faith does not teach us anything bad. Is faith in compassion a bad kind of faith? Is helping those in need a bad kind of faith? Is faith in love a bad kind of faith? Is faith in the idea that every living being has the right to live a bad kind of faith? I will allow myself to quote a great comment by a forum member at a Croatian news portal: "Those who claim that there are ten thousand abortions a year due to a” bad social situation “, rape (or forced sex in marriage), or Medical indications during pregnancy, are fools. Most of these abortions are performed on the younger female population. These are mostly young girls who get pregnant, and then their mothers, who are around 40 and do not want to become grandmothers, drag them to the doctor to have an abortion. The worst thing is the fact that many of them have several abortions. The fact that it’s almost like going to the dentist is shameful.I am sickened by this society’s hypocrisy. long ago. Would any pro-choice coordinators dare to say – in public, and on that particular day – that it’s acceptable to have an abortion if tests show that the child will suffer from Down’s syndrome. reason, among ot hers! And it is legal. The test is performed during week 11 of the pregnancy, so that the pregnant woman may have an abortion in case of bad test results, as abortion is legal up to week 19. What is the difference between such a pregnant woman and the Nazis, who considered the ill to be degenerate and freaks that should be extinguished? ”

Why am I so touched by this unfortunate abortion story? Because I am an extramarital child of a poor mother with a rich soul. My late mother told me at her deathbed that my mother was a great dreamer, and that I must have inherited that trait from her. Grandma acknowledged that her young daughter was abandoned by her partner, who left her behind pregnant, with the promise that he would return for her as soon as he makes some money up north in the Big Apple, and he would take her to paradise, but she never heard from him again. Grandmother tried to talk her into having an abortion, because they were barely able to survive, even without a child, but at that point she joined her hands in prayer and, looking up, she said: “Thank God, she would not listen to me … your mother is a hero, she took up the toughest of jobs to be able to raise you … and when social services wanted to take you away and give you up for adoption to a wealthy couple from a big northern city, she said that it would happen only over her dead body! ”

My mother drew her indomitable strength from the Texas prairie. She always standing upright like a cactus, she withstood the winter, the wind, the drafts – to cut a long story short, the capricious winds of destiny never drove her to her knees (sadly, the man who left her pregnant and left off to New York was a weak-spirited coward, even though he was Texan). When I went to football games as a youth, I used to compare the football coach to my mother. I remember the words of the late coach, who was adored by the fans almost as if he was a saint. He himself was a fan of the working class, and he used to tell his players: “We always have to think and play from game to game, because this is the credo of the people of this city. we live in. People have to fight in order to survive. we can not let them down. What we feel when we take the field is not pressure … Pressure is when these people go home missing the money to feed their kids. ”

Yes, my mother was from a poor family, but her soul is noble, and that’s why I’m always proud to say that my mother is blue-blooded and nobility, because there is no greater nobility than love. I can proudly claim before the world that I have inherited my love of the earth, not just the golden Texas prairie, but our one only planet Earth, from my mother. SACRIFICE, modesty, humility, respect, hard work, faith … that’s the motto, not just of my humble family, but of most people across the proud Texas prairie. There is no government or money that could keep me from fighting for nature, and this is also why I fight against bankers, oil corporations, greedy dictators, political castes (by this, I do not mean political visionaries like myself, who fight to save nature) because, lest we forget, global warming is not a natural process, but a product of human greed. I remember my mother singing the old “Tennessee Waltz” to me when I was a kid. If you listen to the immortal Patti Page, you will know the kind of singing voice my mother had when she was young. I’ll never forget watching her sing and look through a small window into the distance, like a golden bird locked in a cage. But instead of her, her baby bird left the cage and flew off into the world in his early youth. What sacrifice it must be to voluntarily impersonate your youth and beauty into a small dark room for the sake of your child, I think while wistfully looking at a pale family photo. One Christmas Eve I asked her if she ever considered an abortion, and she looked into the distance and said in a tired voice: “I must admit that there were moments when I blamed all my troubles on God, but my faith was stronger .. My faith kept me from falling, and an angel who whispered to me that I should look for work as a cleaner in the maternity ward. Those newborn children have the strength to stand up and fight. Yes, son, there were troubled times. ahead, but I saw an ocean of craving in your big blue eyes that made it worth living for … ”

After listening to this story, I often thought how great it would have been if all the newborn children had mothers like that. I never turned out to be wealthy, or a great politician, but I wrote some poems, novels and plays that made it worth to live. After all, who gave us the right to decide whether to have an abortion or not ?! It’s not important what kind of country or family a child is born into, it may still become a great journalist, poet, actor, philosopher or humanist politician some day, someone who will make the world a better place to live. Or else, they might become the most important thing – a simple honored human being.

Yes, life is wonderful in deed, and when you think that there is no way out, just remember Frank Capra’s classic movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The younger generation should watch that movie in school, because the movie, with acting virtuoso James Stewart, teaches us that life is worth fighting for even when you think that there is no way out and, what’s most important, how to remain human. Yes, this movie proves the positive power art can have on the human soul, and this is why the world should pay more attention to art that enriches all the values that make us human. Literature and motion pictures with noble messages deserve more attention from people, instead of slavery to raw profit.

It is common knowledge that every person has the freedom to choose between good and evil. When I read a true story about a homeless man in New York, who found a bag full of money and returned it to the owner, I was proud to be human, but when I read that the same man became homeless due to bankers’ greed , I am accused of being human. It is interesting to find out that the same story happened twice, in the USA and in Croatia. When journalists asked the Croatian homeless man in Split why he returned the money, he just shrugged and humbly replied: “Even though I lost everything, partly because of my own mistakes, and partly because of the bank’s usuries, all I want is to remain a faithful and honest man. ” Yes, this man is a hero of mine. Of course, I do not promote poverty. I want to be successful, but I do not want to lose my soul in the process. I always vote for capitalism with a human face and a human soul. Yes to success, but no to greed! This is my life’s motto, lest we forget that greed is a disease much more dangerous than the pest or cholera. The Croatian political caste is proof of greed being a dark bottomless pit. Imagine a small and beautiful country blessed by mother nature, with a thousand islands and a clear azure sea, fertile lowlands and paradise green valleys, yet with many thousands of people, both old and young, going through garbage bins because of the political caste’s greed. Now try to imagine how endless the politicians’ greed is: kind people who want to donate food to the poor must pay taxes to the state on any food or other goods they donate to the poor. Thus, the paradox is that it is easier to just throw away the food into garbage than to donate it to the poor. This political caste (the “reformed” communist party) is not satisfied by millions paid in bribery by “investors”, or by selling state-owned companies with brand names for peanuts, like insurance companies and banks, and other malversations. No, they simply must steal whatever little the paupers have left. Is not greed really an accursed disease? It does not simply destroy the body, no, it also destroys the human soul. It is a dark bottomless pit that can never be filled, and it feeds on human souls. This is what my noble mother taught me. She would never allow herself to be separated from the family brooch she inherited, displaying a smiling Christ figure. There are many people who look down on people like her, and they think that gold credit cards give them the right to consider them the betters of the poor faithful. Well, they’re wrong! The worst kind of poverty is the poverty of the spirit. Those who are working their way towards power and money, looking down on the faithful, should know that those who ridicule faith are those who call His name the loudest on their deathbed. I do not support fanaticism in anything, and certainly not in faith, because the Creator teachers us that tolerance and love for others is the best way towards faith. So, even when I criticize greedy people, I do not hate them. Instead, I am doing it from the depths of my soul, hoping for them to see the world through the eyes of the faithful someday.

History teachers us that even the greatest among unbelievers experienced a sincere conversion at the end of their lives (and I do not mean Pharisees). On his deathbed, Jean-Paul Sartre said to his best friend: “You know, Francois, I was a great skeptic all my life as far as faith is concerned … but there must be a higher deity that enriches the human soul with all those values I was searching for like a castaway on the ocean of temptation … ”

Yes, and I would add: taking a step at a time on the path to true freedom is not easy, as the great Plato taught us. Weak-spirited people will choose their safety in the dark, while those who are blessed with faith search for light, becoming genuine messengers of freedom in their lifetime. Those who close the doors on a child at its conception should know that this is how they turn the light of life on themselves.

Walter William Safar

Source by Walter William Safar

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