#{ muses with tails: beware } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sgcstories · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 5: Pages of Prophecy

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Scarlet hopped down, brushing against McKenzie’s leg. “Complicated men,” the cat said.

McKenzie smiled. “Indeed, Scarlet. But aren’t they all?”

On the way back to her quarters, the castle seemed different now—its stone walls whispering secrets, its corridors winding like forgotten memories. As they turned the corner, the torches flickered, their flames dancing erratically. McKenzie’s breath caught. “Scarlet,” she whispered, “do you feel that?”

The cat’s fur bristled, and her eyes widened. The air thickened, as if unseen hands tugged at them. Shadows slithered along the walls, taking shape—a spectral figure, half-hidden, half watching from the darkness.

“Who’s there?” McKenzie called, her voice echoing. But there was no reply—only the rustle of unseen wings.

They pressed on, the tension mounting. The floor beneath their feet shifted, as if the castle itself conspired against them. Portraits leered, their eyes following McKenzie’s every move. One whispered, “Beware the moon’s touch.”

Scarlet’s tail lashed. “We’re not alone,” she hissed. “And this isn’t a dream.”

McKenzie’s heart raced. “What do they want?”

The torches flared, revealing a fork in the corridor. A cold breeze swept through, carrying with it a haunting melody—a dirge of forgotten spells. McKenzie hesitated, torn between paths.

And then, from the shadows, Snape emerged. His eyes held a glint of something otherworldly. “Miss McKenzie,” he said, “the night reveals truths. Choose wisely.”

Before she could respond, the spectral figure materialized into something else—a woman with moon-pale skin and eyes like fractured mirrors. “Remember,” she whispered, her voice echoing. “The silver pool awaits.”

McKenzie glanced at Scarlet, who stared at the woman. “Who are you?” McKenzie demanded.

The woman’s smile held both sorrow and menace. “A weaver of dreams,” she replied. “And a keeper of forgotten tales.”

The spectral woman stepped closer, her eyes twin moons in the encroaching darkness. The torches flickered, their flames guttering as if afraid to illuminate her face.

“Who are you?” McKenzie asked, her voice echoing down the corridor. “Why do you haunt my dreams?”

The woman’s laughter was like wind through ancient ruins. “Dreams,” she mused. “They are the threads that weave reality. And you, McKenzie, are the weaver.”

McKenzie’s pulse quickened. “A weaver? What does that mean?”

The woman’s gaze bore into hers. “You touch the edges of forgotten magic,” she said. “The silver pool—the nexus of worlds—awaits your choice.”

“But what choice?” McKenzie pressed. “And why me?”

The darkness thickened, tendrils curling around their ankles. “Destiny,” the woman whispered. “Paths diverge, converge. Snape—the enigma—holds answers. But beware the moon’s touch.”

McKenzie blinked a few times and looked around. Scarlet watched from beside her, eyes wide with knowing.

“Choose,” the woman urged. “Embrace your power, or be lost to the dreams forever.”

The spectral woman’s laughter twisted—a melody gone discordant. Her moon-pale features contorted, eyes now hollow pits. Shadows slithered from her form, tendrils reaching for McKenzie.

McKenzie stumbled back, her heart pounding. “What do you want?”

The woman’s voice was no longer wind through ruins; it was a dirge. “Power,” she hissed. “The silver pool—the gateway to all worlds—can be yours.”

But the shadows closed in, suffocating. McKenzie’s breath came in ragged gasps. She glanced at Scarlet, who hissed—a feline warning. The spectral woman wailed, fading into mist. As her form dissipated, the shadows thickened, coalescing into grotesque shapes. From the darkness emerged creatures—twisted, half-real. Their eyes glowed like dying stars, and their limbs moved with unnatural grace.

McKenzie’s breath hitched. “What are they?”

Scarlet hissed, her fur standing on end. “Nightmares given form,” she whispered. “They hunger for your fear.”

The creatures lunged, their claws scraping the air. McKenzie stumbled, her heart racing. In that tense moment, as the shadows threatened to engulf McKenzie, Snape appeared. His wand swept through the air, invoking a spell of light. The corridor blazed—a twenty-foot radius of brilliance, pushing back the darkness. Scarlet hissed, and the twisted creatures recoiled, their eyes shrinking into pinpricks.

“Stay close,” Snape commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Fear feeds them.”

McKenzie nodded, her heart still racing. The spectral woman’s laughter echoed, but Snape’s magic held firm. The castle pulsed, and they stepped away from the abyss, guided by wand light and the enigmatic presence of Snape.

Scarlet followed, her white fur a beacon. “Complicated night,” the cat mewed.

In a swift motion, Snape guided McKenzie and Scarlet through the labyrinthine corridors. His wand illuminated their path, pushing back the encroaching shadows. The twisted creatures snarled, but Snape’s magic held them at bay.

Finally, they reached his quarters—a refuge of flickering candlelight and ancient tomes. The doors closed behind them, sealing out the nightmare. Scarlet leaped onto a velvet armchair, her fur still bristling.

“Safe, for now,” Snape said, his eyes unreadable.

McKenzie nodded, heart still racing. The spectral woman’s laughter echoed in her mind. She wondered: Was this destiny or madness? Snape’s presence offered no answers, only more questions.

The candlelight in Snape’s quarters flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. McKenzie glanced at Scarlet, who had settled on a velvet cushion, her eyes wide.

“Professor Snape,” McKenzie began, “why did you bring us here? Why not my own room?”

Snape’s gaze held hers, inscrutable. “Safety,” he replied.

McKenzie raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, Professor Snape,” she drawled. “I completely understand the need for safety. But pray tell, why is your dungeon liar considered safer than my cozy little room? Is it the charming ambiance or the delightful aroma of bat wings and potions that puts it over the top?”

Snape’s scowl deepened, and McKenzie couldn’t help but smirk. The tension in the room crackled like a static. “Miss McKenzie,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, “my room is not merely a dank dungeon. It is meticulously enchanted with protective spells—warding off intruders, hexes, and even the occasional overly curious student.”

He leaned in emphasizing each word. “Unlike your cozy room, my quarters are impervious to magical interference. The very air crackles with ancient magic, and the walls themselves repel danger.” His gaze swept over her, assessing. “So, while you may find my company less than delightful, rest assured that my room is the safest place within these castle walls.”

As Snape’s eyes bore into McKenzie’s, the air thickened with tension. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and her palms grew clammy. His proximity was both exhilarating and unnerving.

“Professor,” she stammered, “I-I didn’t mean to—”

But he silenced her with a curt gesture, his fingers brushing against hers. The room seemed to shrink, and McKenzie’s mind raced. She was caught between the allure of danger and the embarrassment of her own audacity. Snape’s mask of irritation slipped back into place, and he stepped away from McKenzie, creating a chasm between them. His eyes, once intense, now held a frosty detachment.

“Enough,” he said curtly, his voice devoid of any warmth. “We have wasted enough time on this frivolity.” And with that, he stepped further away from McKenzie, leaving her standing there, cheeks flushed and her heart pounding.

The moment had passed, and Snape became aloof, leaving her to grapple with the remnants of the embarrassment.

“It’s late,” he said, his gaze meeting hers. “Get some rest.” His words hung in the silence, a dismissal wrapped in concern.

McKenzie nodded, her heart still racing from their charged encounter. As she turned to lay on the bed, she caught a fleeting glimpse of something softer in Snape’s eyes—a vulnerability masked by sternness. But by the time she blinked, it was gone, and he was once again the aloof professor.

The next morning, the sun peeked through the castle windows, casting a warm glow across the stone floors. McKenzie rubbed her eyes, the memory of Snape’s intense gaze still lingering. She wondered if he’d slept at all, or if he’d spent the night brewing potions in his meticulously enchanted room. As she stumbled toward the Great Hall for breakfast, she couldn’t shake the embarrassment of their encounter.

McKenzie adjusted her robes, glancing down at Scarlet, her white cat perched on her shoulder. The feline’s eyes glimmered with an otherworldly intelligence. “Scarlet,” she whispered. “Did you notice Snape’s reaction last night? I mean, I was being sarcastic, but he—” The cat interrupted her with a soft purr, nuzzling her cheek. McKenzie sighed. “I know, I know. He’s an enigma wrapped in a potions textbook. But there’s something about him, Scarlet. Something that keeps me awake at night.”

Scarlet’s eyes gleamed, and her voice came out soft. “Ah, my dear,” she purred. “You tread a dangerous path. Snape is no ordinary professor. His heart is a labyrinth of secrets, and his past—shrouded in shadows.” The cat’s tail flicked, as if emphasizing her point. “But perhaps,” Scarlet continued, “it’s the mysteries that draw you in—the thrill of unraveling those mysteries, even if they lead to heartache.”

McKenzie blinked, startled by the depths of Scarlet’s insight. “Be cautious,” the cat warned. “For love and danger often dance hand in hand.

McKenzie shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushed. “Love?” she stammered. “Oh, no, it’s not—I mean, Professor Snape and I—” She stumbled over her words, avoiding Scarlet’s knowing gaze. “It’s complicated,” she finally admitted. “He’s just… intriguing. But love? Definitely not.”

The cat’s eyes twinkled, as if she saw through McKenzie’s flustered denial. “Of course,” Scarlet purred, “just like a potion simmering on low heat—complex, volatile, and utterly irresistible.”

McKenzie sighed. “Exactly,” she whispered, wondering how she’d gotten entangled in this magical mess.

The Great Hall buzzed with activity as McKenzie and Scarlet found an empty table near the stained glass windows. Sunlight streamed through, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. The enchanted ceiling mimicked a clear sky, dotted with drifting clouds. McKenzie glances at the high table where Snape sat, his expression inscrutable. She wondered if he’d noticed her arrival, or if he was lost in his own enigmatic thoughts. As she settled into her seat, Scarlet curled up beside her, tail twitching.

McKenzie’s heart skipped a beat as she observed Snape lean in, his lips moving in hushed conversation with the headmaster. His gaze flickered toward her, and for a moment, their eyes locked. What were they discussing? Was it about her? The Great Hall faded into the background as she tried to decipher Snape’s inscrutable expression. Scarlet, sensing her unease, nuzzled her hand.

“Secrets,” the cat said. “Always secrets.”

As the Great Hall hummed with activity, Snape approached McKenzie’s table. His dark eyes bore into hers, and she felt a shiver of anticipation.

“Miss McKenzie,” he said, his voice low and measured. “Your sorceress training begins in thirty minutes. Meet me in the west tower.” His words hung in the air, laden with mystery and purpose.

McKenzie savored the last crumbs of her breakfast, her mind racing with anticipation. The west tower loomed before her. As she stepped into its shadowed corridor, Snape awaited her, his eyes inscrutable.

“Miss McKenzie,” he said, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Your sorceress training begins now.”

The narrow stone staircase led McKenzie and Snape down into the depths of Hogwarts. The air grew colder, and the torchlight flickered. The silence was palpable. McKenzie cleared her throat, her voice echoing in the dimness. “Professor,” she began. “I appreciate the training opportunity. But, um, do you always make dungeons your preferred teaching locale?” She cringed inwardly at her attempt to break the ice.

Snape’s lips twitched, and for a fleeting moment, the stern facade wavered. “Miss McKenzie,” he replied, “sometimes the most potent magic thrives in darkness.” With that cryptic response, they continued their descent, leaving awkwardness and curiosity in their wake.

McKenzie took a deep breath, her footsteps echoing as she walked. “Professor,” she spoke up again, her voice steady. “I’ve always wondered—what’s your favorite potion? You know, the one that makes you feel—alive?”

Snape glanced at her, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Alive?” he repeated, as if the concept were foreign to him. “Miss McKenzie, potions are not about feelings. They’re about precision, control and achieving desired outcomes.”

McKenzie’s eyes rolled of their own accord, and she suppressed an exasperated sigh. Conversing with Snape was like navigating a maze of riddles. “Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “Because straightforward answers are overrated.” Scarlet, ever perceptive, twitched her tail in agreement.

Suddenly, Snape halted. His eyes bore into McKenzie’s, and his voice was a whip-crack of authority. “Miss McKenzie,” he snapped. “Insolence will not be tolerated. You are here to learn, not to mock.” His words hung in the air, and McKenzie’s cheeks flushed. She had pushed too far, and Snape’s stern gaze was a reminder that magic had consequences beyond eye rolls and sarcasm.

#romance fiction #fanfiction #romance #fanfic #professor snape #severus snape

0 notes

chrisringrose · 2 years ago

Text

"Gold and Grey" Poem #3 for April 2023. Introduced into Japan in 1502, goldfish are iconic there. A nuisance when released into the wild, apparently. But this poem is about light and dark: goldfish as art object and a heron's meal . . .

Gold and Grey

See the goldfish -- humble, superb,

vermillion with golden glints.

A lazy swish of a ribbed tail

slips them deeper into a pool

the colour of old ale.

They slide beneath grasshopper-green

pads of a lily, their scales

like metal blossom petals

their eyes like targets

their fins like paddles

of miniature Canadian canoes.

Opening a pale horny mouth

to suck in a morsel.

Quiet muse of Debussy and ukiyo-e.

But beware the stabbing grey heron

who quarters the neighbourhood

with slow liquid flaps of his wings

searching for the tell-tale flash

of a garden pond far below.

CR April 3, 2023

0 notes

libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

Amang they found it wist na what in the

But my eyes fills thee be seen? Were but bid beware, to see what shine bright, until it blew so stealing upon the lingering

thee. Has yield, making her little griefs congealed sorrow on the Hielands, of Candia, Cyprus, Rhodes, or that kept

he, her lay. His last breath, make most true woman yet, as I haue all, now she unwean’d child’s mouth, unless wealth, my Peggy’s

hearts. The sea, unless glories. Were madrigal, unto his tail, broad-blown away, though her mishaps, as if th’ offend,

with pedestrian Muses treads again, even in sleep; in the small hips the way there rushes, snorts and cherries.

’—And then in its dark trees, and unruly beast into the like a Turk’s pavilion, a joints forget they borrow; her

eyes that bloomed that’s workmanship, tablet and disease, did fly the nightly drew on her lee. Her window pocked with this heavens

expanded to awakes, where I hem; and the lyre; but shepheards kynd. In to alight with his hard to a lily

fingers and the people, whose dirge and regular moved worker handing none, in his reede is rare with you? Had not

be to a river twittering his blown out in blue branches my knowledge which, by Cupid bathing an unnatural,

and wrapt him although which even that I could be done we them he had already—and wind would not cloy thy wrong

it—’tis decorum. To take me tie are humbly she put his javelin’s point out, and wane in long attack us.

Over one and pulse a blackest Winter men, women are fresh from their eyes? Across just when to his Eyelashes throne!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #128 texts #ballad

0 notes

mastcrmiind · 2 years ago

Text

mini valentines plotting / starter call under the cut !! either like this for me to message you on discord, or reply with anyone you may want closed starters for !! also i apologise that this is garbage i suck at writing plot drops

please beware that there is mentions of all things violence, death, murder etc related under the cut.

april kepner || 36 || aware || unaffected

april has a lot of her own stuff going on at the moment, so the last thing she wants is to have anything to do with valentines day. she’s going to be spending the night working in the er, so will definitely be around if something happens to your muse.

atticus 'link' lincoln || 36 || aware || paired with jo wilson

link finally got up the courage to invite his best friend that he’s 100% in love with out for valentines day (just as friends, obviously) and now she’s spitting mean statements about his hair at him? he’s a little upset, and link wants to go home, and is fighting the urge to say anything back at jo. He doesn’t want to ruin what almost could be.

beck oliver || 29 || aware || paired with jade west

jade running towards people with scissors isn’t a new thing in becks world, but her threatening him is. Generally it’s her threatening any other girl that beck talks to. beck will be doing whatever they can to fight jade off, without hurting her too bad, though who knows?

belle french || 28 || aware || paired with ??

belle decided to sign up for the valentines event as a way to get out of the library, and now she’s feeling a lot of feelings she’s never really felt before. she’s a girl who knows how to defend herself though, so fingers crossed.

bonnie bennett || 23 || aware || paired with lorenzo st john

bonnie’s love for enzo has been completely clouded with the desire to kill him, infact, every feeling bonnie has, has now been clouded with her desire to kill, mainly enzo. she will be using her magic & doing whatever she has to do to take him out.

carrie bradshaw || 25 || aware || unaffected

carrie heard everything going on in town, and has decided to keep herself locked in her apartment for the time being. so if anybody else is living in the same apartment building as her and is unaffected, she may need some company.

cleo sertori || 29 || aware || unaffected

cleo chose the wrong night to go out for a swim. whoops. cleo can be found down at the moon pool, hiding out from the noise of the mayhem happening throughout the city, but who knows who’s lurking around to find her with a tail.

edwina sharma || 21 || unaware || paired with ??

edwina was looking for love, and now she’s overcome with the desire to kill her blind date? she’s a fairly self sufficient girl, but i can’t see this ending very well for her.

enola holmes || 20 || aware || unaffected

enola is confused enough about her feelings for tewkesbury, she doesn’t need to add an extra person into the mix. she’s spending the night now hiding out in the corner of the diner she took herself on a valentines date too. she might be available to help kick some ass, or do her best to help out if anyone is injured.

josette laughlin || 34 || aware || paired with alaric saltzman

Jo has literally just come back from the dead, and to celebrate she wanted a peaceful valentines dinner with her almost-husband, but when is anything ever peaceful in her life? she’s always been the cool, calm and collected twin, and now she’s got the desire to murder the love of her life. once she has either fought off the feeling, or murdered alaric, whichever comes first she will be ready to help out anybody else that is injured.

lady lola flemming narcisse || 19 || aware || paired with ??

lola has decided now is the perfect time to get herself back out there. her estranged husband is stuck 500 years in the past, so there’s no harm in a simple blind date. or there shouldn’t be. this is going to bring a lot back for lola, who couldn’t hurt a fly, so she may end up back at square one, or unaware at the end of this.

lexie grey || 28 || aware || paired with mark sloan

lexie only just got mark back, now that they both remember who they really are, and if she can help it she isn’t losing him again. she’s going to try fight the urge to hurt him as much as she possibly can, but whatever will be, will be. if she does end up injuring him, you can guarantee she’s going to do everything she can to save his life, before going to see who else she can help.

lily luna potter || 21 || unaware || harry potter

lily luna isn’t one for fighting, so when she ends up stuck in the middle of the mayhem going on in the city, she isn’t going to be sure what to do. honestly someone make this girl be collateral damage in another couples fight just so she remembers who her family is please.

mariana adams-foster || 24 || aware || paired with ??

mariana is always one for spontaneity. so when she heard there was blind dates available on valentines day, she jumped at the opportunity. she’s new to town, after all. she’s going to do everything she can to fight the urge to murder her date, because that’s definitely not very cool.

matilda wormwood || 20 || aware || unaffected

matilda is going to be spending the night wandering the city on the lookout for her mother, hiding in the shadows to make sure she doesn’t end up in the middle of anyone elses drama, thank you very much.

melissa glaser || 23 || unaware || unaffected

melissa is going to be peacefully locked away in the bakery, making valentines treats for the masses. she wants absolutely no part in the drama whatsoever, thank you very much. but if she ends up caught up in it, and getting her memories back, that wouldn’t be too bad either.

milton 'mg' greasley || 19 || unaware || unaffected

mg is going to be hiding somewhere to avoid the smell of blood, so he doesn’t end up doing something he might regret in the morning. if anyone wants to have him potentially feed on their muse, let me know.

rebekah mikaelson || 1000+ || aware || unaffected

rebekah has decided the right thing to do when a bunch of people in town are being murdered by their loved ones, is to wander around trying to save people with her blood, despite her want to stay out of all of it.

rosalie hale || 107 || aware || paired with emmett cullen

whoops, rosalie really wants to kill emmett now, which probably wont end well for her with how much stronger than her he is. all she wanted was a nice human experience on valentines day and now she’s losing her mind.

simon basset - duke of hastings || 30 || aware || paired with daphne bridgerton

tbd : simon isn’t going to want to do anything to hurt anyone, so he will be trying his hardest to fight the temptation to injure his wife. he’s going to do only what he has to do to protect himself, and her.

carina deluca || 38 || aware || paired with ??

if carina survives, and ends up being the one to kill her date, she will be feeling rather sorry for herself, but will probably try her hardest to help in anyway she can.

hailey damon || 26 || aware || unaffected

hailey is going to be staying home that night, though she will be worrying about what may have happened to her mother, not knowing where she is but knowing kate would kill her herself if she was to go out in whatever was happening outside.

rosa diaz || 33 || aware || paired with kate denali

rosa’s competition is a vampire, so lets be real. she’s probably going to end the night very much not alive. She won’t be going down without a fight though, she’s a trained police officer, and has a lot of obscure skills that could help her.

#hw: startercall #hw: plot call #murder mention tw #death mention tw #violence mention tw

16 notes · View notes

broiunno · 4 years ago

Text

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

74 notes · View notes

mcheang · 4 years ago

Text

Celebrity imposter

Ok, Lila knows that Rose keeps in touch with Prince Ali via email and that Marinette is social media buddies with Jagged.

When confronted with why Lila herself didn’t have Jagged’s contacts, Lila claimed she respected his privacy, unlike Marinette.

Alya quickly defused the situation and separated the two girls.

Lila decided to keep busy by browsing the latest Gabriel catalogue.

She spent a large portion of her savings to get that fox necklace (and what a waste of money that had been, no thanks to Ladybug!)

Still, she liked the fox theme. Illusions and lies were her thing.

And that fox tail sash looked divine! And freaking expensive.

Ugh. Lila’s mother may work at the embassy but she’s not that loaded to give Lila lots of allowance.

Even after tricking her classmates to buy her food, all that saved lunch money wasn’t enough, not for another couple of months.

Well, where there’s a will, there’s a way.

And this bragging about having a celebrity’s contacts gave Lila an idea. She just needed a gullible enough target.

Alya? No. Too close to Marinette.

Nathaniel? Not really into the music scene.

Rose? Perfect! What made it even better was that she liked to help write songs.

Using Instagram, Lila pretended to be Jagged and stated that Lila had introduced him to her so that he could offer tips on writing music.

Rose was thrilled.

The fake Jagged asked Rose to keep this secret because he likes his privacy as a celebrity.

Rose eagerly agreed.

Lila basically gave Rose internet advice for Song writing, and even not so subtly hinted at using Lila for a muse.

Rose was surprised but willing. She even asked about Marinette.

Here Lila had to grit her teeth since the rock star wasn’t shy about singing praises of his favorite designer. The fake Jagged claimed that Marinette was shy about attention.

It took some time of chatting before Lila opened up the idea of donating money for a good cause. Saving the arts and music programs at school.

Rose promised to donate money. It wasn’t enough for Lila’s tastes so she suggested Rose continue raising money by asking others to contribute.

But when Rose needed a charity name, Jagged claimed he wanted to give the school the gigantic cheque himself. And he doesn’t exactly have a charity. But he would credit those who decided to contribute on television.

Rose asked around. Word got to Marinette and Alya. Yeah, this doesn’t sound right and Jagged never mentioned this charity to Marinette.

Rose wouldn’t say about where she heard of this donation Jagged was preparing, but Marinette outright called Jagged to ask if he was preparing a donation like what Rose said he was.

Jagged: much as I would like to help save the music programs, I am focused towards saving the wildlife for the cousins of Fang here. Sorry, Marinette, but it sounds like this friend of yours is involved in a scam.

Rose was pale. Under pressure, she finally confessed she was Jagged’s friend on Instagram. Looking at it; Marinette pointed out that the profile doesn’t match Jagged’s official account and it is new with few followers.

Rose: he could have decided to create an anonymous account to get to know fellow fans.

Marinette’s: then he could have used someone else’s account.

Alya: moreover, he’s rich. He doesn’t need others to help contribute to this giant cheque of his.

Marinette: especially when he will be taking in all the credit.

Rose: he promised to mention us on TV.

But even Rose’s defense sounded weak to her ears.

Marinette: I’m sorry, Rose. But you’ve been conned. This is so not Jagged.

Rose was crying. “But Lila confirmed that he really is talking to me. Has she been duped too?”

Alya: it’s possible

Marinette: oh for crying out loud, do I have to call Jagged again to prove that he never owned a kitten and doesn’t know Lila?! And seriously, for someone who likes to boast of her connections, she certainly does not have the proof to back her up. Does she, Alya? You did fact check before believing all that celebrity gossip, didn’t you?

Alya was silent. Rose was still crying.

Marinette: I’m sorry, Rose. But however hard the truth is, it’s better than being tricked. Here; chocolate makes everything better.

Rose calmed down as she bit into the creamy chocolate bar.

Rose: so what do I do?

Alya: report that fake account and block it. And then we’re going to have a little chat with Lila.

Rose: now?

They were still at school.

Alya: everyone needs to know the truth.

As the class returned after lunch, Alya confronted why Lila gave Rose Jagged’s account and not her.

Lila: Rose, how could you?! Jagged and I trusted you!

Rose was shaken but she retorted, “and I trusted you. You’ve been impersonating Jagged and trying to scam me.”

Lila: no, I haven’t! How could you think so little of me after I introduced you to Jagged?

Marinette: because the account Rose has been talking to is new and is not Jagged’s official account. And because Jagged himself doesn’t know you.

Lila: just because Jagged likes to brag about your designs doesn’t mean he doesn’t know me.

Jagged: but it does prove Marinette knows me.

Marinette had secretly FaceTimed Jagged to show him what was going on.

Jagged: so you’re the imposter using my name to con money out of a fan of mine? Not cool!

Alya: also, we’re live.

She was filming this, too.

Lila was cornered. “How dare you?”

Alya: that should be our line. You’ve been lying to us from Day One.

Adrien: um, don’t you think we’re going too far here?

Marinette shook her head. “No, Adrien. Waiting for Lila’s lies to crumble on their own just means more chances for her to hurt others. Now no one will be fooled by her again.”

Lila ran. But Marinette knew an akuma would come. She came prepared. As Ladybug swung her yo-yo to capture the akuma, she heard Lila calling out to it.

Hopping down, she stood in front of the frozen liar. “Working with a terrorist too? Now this actually calls for the police.”

And tying her up, Lila was brought to the police station for questioning.

Mrs Rossi was informed that her daughter was being questioned. She went to the police station and was given a prompt update of what the akuma situation really was like.

Lila’s phone was evidence that she had pretended to be Jagged.

Even though she was a minor, Lila was still going to be in a lot of trouble.

Meanwhile, Rose had learned to be a lot more wary of new friends. And Adrien felt quite guilty about his high road tactic.

Lesson of the story: beware of celebrity imposters on social media

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #lila busted #lila is exposed #lila gets exposed #Lila salt #ml salt fic #Marinette finally calls Jagged #Lila cons Rose

427 notes · View notes

ducknotinarow · 3 years ago

Note

Is he- Yes, he's actually sniffing them, nose twitching slightly at the realization. "You are not Miyamoto. Yet you have the same stench." ( Jei for the younger uwu )

| Muse interaction Making his way back to the farm heading off to see his aunt. When they noticed someone else was on the same path he was currently taking. Usagi was a bit surprised to see someone on the very same route as him. It was mostly unused normally the walk was spent all by himself, he was going to keep walking on his way but as he drew closer. Something just didn't seem right. The fur on the back of his neck started to rise and stand on end, out of reflex he had his hand move to the hilt of his sword. Usagi had to stop as he was walking was this all over the fact they were a wolf? The hare had to wonder but something in him said otherwise. Usagi had to near pray his hand away from his weapon they weren't causing harm he was just overreacting that's all. Slow breath drawn and let go but seemed he wasn't the only one interested in the other. Usagi stood his ground eyeing them just in case he was acting as he was for a reason. The blind wolf, at least he assumed them to beware staring right at him. Swallowing thickly Usagi planted his feet firmly to mark his stance "You there what are you doing here" He asked mustering all he could to sound intimidating envisioning his ancestor Miyamoto to get in the right head space.

They moved in closer to the rabbit as if inspecting him, Usagi felt his fingers twitch itching to grab at his sword again. That was until the wolf took in a whiff near him. Did he? NO, he couldn't have but uh no that was exactly what happened just now they sniffed him? Usagi wasn't sure how to react as the wolf's nose twitched

"You are not Miyamoto. Yet you have the same stench."

Usagi tilted his head a little, part of him wanted to smile at the fact they picked up his namesake scent on him. but now wasn't the time to relish in having a comparison made to them, even if his tail wiggled a little at the thought. "No I'm not Miyamoto, I'm Yuichi" He went ahead to correct, something was off about this guy and the whole situation. Hand withdrew from his sword though. "But I am his descendant" claimed it full of pride. "But how would you know his scent? He well dead been dead...so you would have to be like old. Old, old like really old in order to have to know him and you don't look dead so?" Usagi went to add in case it wasn't clear enough to them. But that also meant they knew him? not accounting for the fact something he was saying this guy was bad news distracted by this one detail.

"but do I really smell like Miyamoto?!"

and so much for not focusing on that part, Usagi slightly stood up tall smiling about that fact to himself. Ignoring they used the word stench when saying it before, he had to admit

#muse| yuichi usagi #forthehonorandglory #[ a rivalry through generations -fortherhonorandglory]#muse interacction #stayed qeued #((XD dont judge him hes excited about being like Miyamoto XDD))

4 notes · View notes

raelly-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt 8: Clamour - FFXIVWrite 2020

Post 5.3 so beware of the spoilers! Speedwriting in the middle of the night seem like a poor time for Urianger dialogue but eeeeh, whims of the muse?

Clamour: a loud and persistent noise.

---

An unreasonably cold rainstorm had swept in over Mor Dhona and seemingly decided to just stay there for the day.

In short, it was a miserable experience to travel through it. The longing call of dry clothes and something warm to eat and drink made Thancred hurry his steps as he made his way from the stables to the Rising Stones.

Gods, he felt cold. Water dripped off his coat when he finally slunk in through the doors and into the comperative warmth inside. Not that it was easy to feel with the soaked through fabric hanging off his shoulders. Instantly, the familiar clamour and din of the Scions in the middle of dinnertime met him - by the sound of it, Hoary and Ocher was in the middle of retelling some story, their loud voices carrying just over the noise of everyone as they bickered over some detail or another the way siblings seemed to often do.

“Well, look what the coeurl dragged in.” Alisaie gave him a critical once-over as he approached the table where she, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, G’raha and Urianger were seated. “You look terrible.”

“Hello to you too,” Thancred drawled and eyed the barely touched stew in front of each of them. “I see I return just in time for dinner as well.”

“Did it all go well?” Alphinaud set down his mug to look up at him with that adult intensity that looked a fair bit out of place on his still young features.

Nodding, Thancred procured an envelope from his satchel from the contact he had met up with. “Everything is in there.”

Eagerly, he accepted the envelope, his dinner seemingly forgotten as he tore it open and retrieved the documents within.

Casting a glance around to the others, Thancred crossed his arms. “I take it Viana is still in Ishgard?”

“It would appear so,” Y’shtola replied before sipping on her drink.

“Busy as always,” Alisaie added with a shrug. “Probably won’t rest until she’s seen the place rebuilt brick by brick, and by then there’ll be something else to occupy her time.”

The nervous flick of one red ear caught his attention. Evidently sensing Thancred’s gaze on him, G’raha looked up with his brow furrowed and concern evident in his red eyes. “No, I met her a mere hour ago,” he replied.

Instantly, Alisaie sat up straight, brows drawn together in a frown as she fixed G’raha with a stare. “What? Where is she then?”

Suddenly the center of everyone’s attention, even Alphinaud’s, G’raha’s gaze flickered about for a moment, before looking back to Thancred. “She said she wanted to finish some reports before dinner,” he explained slowly. “I assumed she was merely caught up in it and would be down at any moment.”

“You should have said something sooner!” Alisaie exclaimed. “Gods, she's just as bad as you were at taking a break!”

Ignoring the sudden flurry of back-and-forth rebukes and retorts between Alisaie and G’raha, Thancred instinctively cast a concerned glance towards the door leading to the rest of the Rising Stones. A small ball of worry settled in his chest. Usually, Viana was quite punctual about eating with everyone else when she was able to make it back to the Rising Stones.

“Perhaps someone ought to check on her?” Y’shtola’s calm and even voice cut through the other two’s bickering and Alphinaud’s attempts to mediate.

“With the weather this foul, perhaps she hath fallen ill,” Urianger added.

A hush fell over the entire table as they all exchanged looks.

G’raha’s ears lay flat against his head, tail twitching anxiously. “She… did look a bit pale and unfocused.”

Alisaie made a frustrated sound and threw her hands up in the air. “She once fainted straight into Thancred’s arms due to a fever, after insisting that all was fine.” With a sour glance in G’raha’s direction, she crossed her arms and looked for all the world like she was barely holding herself back from bolting from her seat, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Don’t take her estimates of her own health at face value.”

Thancred could only recall the incident all too well. The prickle of worry in his chest grew as the cold from the rain suddenly was far from his mind. Uncrossing his arms, he began making his way towards the door. “I’ll check on her,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Viana?”

A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her from the dark oblivion of a restless sleep. Blinking slowly, her vision swam for a moment before coming into focus. Concerned hazel eyes peered back at her from beneath thick, messy silver bangs.

“Thancred?” she rasped out. Gods, how long had she been asleep? Squinting, she tried to make out the time on the chronometer, but the light filtering in from the window sent another sharp stab of pain through her head.

Groaning, Viana quickly screwed her eyes shut and turned her face back in towards her pillow as her head throbbed as if someone was trying to hammer a spike into her forehead.

“Are you ill? Should I fetch Krile?” Thancred asked while stroking her arm, his voice soft and quiet. Bless him. The touch of his hand was cold, and sent a small shiver through her body.

“Just a headache,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She felt him grasp her hand in his, the leather of his gloves just as chilly as his fingertips, then the press of his lips against her knuckles. “The others were worried when you didn’t show up for dinner.”

Guilt tugged at her heart. “Tell them I’m sorry for making them worry,” she replied quietly. She wanted to look at him, but didn’t dare to open her eyes lest the throbbing pain in her head would just intensify. Blindly, she reached out and carefully felt for him. Wet coat fabric met her fingertips and she followed it up until she felt his damp skin, tracing the cord of his neck until she could caress his cheek. “You’re wet, love.”

“It’s still pouring down rain outside,” he replied gently, a small trace of mirth colouring his words. Through her muddled thoughts, she recognised the steady drum of the rain against her window then. Ah, right, it had been raining all day so far.

“Do you want me to leave you in peace?”

She wanted to say no, to ask him to stay, but the feeling of his wet hair brushing against her hand, and the chill of his skin made her bite the words back. Surely he was tired from his mission, and cold after riding through this weather. She’d felt frozen to the bone just from running from the aetheryte plaza after teleporting back. “You don’t have to stay,” she quietly responded.

His hand covered hers and she felt him turn his head to press a kiss to her palm. “Not what I was asking, darling.”

Swallowing, she nodded. “Then stay, please.”

The rustle of leather and cloth when he stood up felt sharper in her ears than usual. “Give me a moment then,” Thancred spoke before she felt him brush a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Viana nodded, and curled up beneath the warm covers as she silently listened as he removed his gear.

“Ah, I see this is where my shirt has disappeared off to.”

Despite the pain, Viana managed a small, sheepish smile. “Sorry. It smelled like you,” she mumbled drowsily. “Then it stopped to. Found another. Wearing it now.”

Thancred made a quiet, muffled sound that sounded very much like a rumble of approval. “It’s quite alright, my dear.”

The damp, chilly air nipped at her skin when he lifted up the covers so he could slip beneath them. Viana tried to just shuffle back, but Thancred wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer as he settled on his back. “This okay?” he whispered.

“Mhm,” she responded. Not caring that his skin was cool to the touch, she eagerly fit herself against the length of his body, tucking her face in against his neck despite the damp tips of his hair that were cold against her temple. The scent of rain clinging to him mixed with the familiar, somewhat muted notes of his cologne, leather and the residue from his gunblade cartridges.

Thancred brushed his fingers through the short hairs at the back of her head. “I forgot one thing, Viana... “

Making a quiet noise to show that she was listening, she tilted her head up towards him, but all she caught was the quiet chime of a linkpearl activating.

“Urianger?” Thancred quietly spoke into it while rubbing her back with his other hand. Realising his intent, Viana relaxed again, drifting in a half-aware state. It was only just that she could overhear the sound of Urianger responding.

“Hast ill befallen her? Does thou require mine aid?”

“No, I don’t think so, she seems to just have a severe headache that she wants to sleep off.”

“Ah. I shall convey thy words to the others once and alert mistress Krile to the situation.”

“Thank you. I’ll stay here with Viana, but could you ask F’lhammin to prepare something to eat in a couple of hours? I wager she knows something that fits the situation.”

“Of course, as thou wish. We will check on thy once the set time hast passed.”

There was another small chime as the call was disconnected, and Thancred wrapped his other arm around her once more. The warmth beneath the blankets and covers were slowly seeping into his body, chasing away the cold of the rain. It was so warm and comfortable, quiet save for the drone of the rain against the window.

“I love our friends,” Viana mumbled against the curve of Thancred’s neck. “All of them. But they can get so loud.”

His chest reverberated with a low laugh. “They can get quite lively, yes.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Did you get the headache in Ishgard?”

“Mrr… Sea of Clouds. Heatwave. So many people around, the constant clamouring and hammering in the Firmament.” Another spike of pain drew a miserable noise from her throat. “Behold; the mighty ‘Warrior of Light’, laid low by a headache,” she groused.

“You are only mortal,” he replied gently. Another kiss was pressed to her hair while his hands still rubbed her back and arm. “Try to go back to sleep, Viana.”

“Mmmkay,” she mumbled, already half-way there, content in his embrace.

#ffxivwrite2020 #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #my writing #take my random af 'communal Scions dinner time' headcanon

13 notes · View notes