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pixicunt · 3 years ago

Text

Series of unfortunate events

Bully Taehyung x reader, Teacher Seokjin x reader

wordcount: 9.5k

Warning: bullying, bully Taehyung, Teacher Seokjin, the age of y/n is not specified to im tagging underage just incase, yandere Taehyung, Yandere Seokjin, highschool, daddy Jin, implied future pseudo incest, fearplay, manipulation, humiliation, public humiliation, public touching, noncon touching, vaginal fingering, gross use of the word rape by Taehyung, threats of rape, threats of non con gangbang, choking, object insertion, objects as sex toys, sex toys, orgasm denial, dumbification, name calling, hair pulling, mean Taehyung, rich Taehyung, phone sex/masturbation guidance, teacher-student relationship, inappropriate relationship.

Summary: Taehyungs bullying gets worse by the day, overstepping the line one day during class. you make the unfortunate mistake of asking your teacher Mr Kim for help in desperation, he is happy to help but wants something in return and when you refuse well .... I guess you'll see.

notes: All smut, little plot thats why its called series of unfortunate events because its legit just different scenes of y/n being caught in unfortunate events. there will be a part 2 because I just wanted to hurry and post it, please let me know if you like it. honestly this feels like some fucked up kdrama. ALSO i just want to say please dont romanticize abuse and bulling , this is fiction.

His fingers felt like they were encased in thin layer on ice as he presses them into the flesh of your thigh, painting his name with invisible ownership over you.

Today had been a lot to handle from Taehyung, the signature devilish smile seared hot into your brain appearing every time you close your eyes like a red hot iron burning his existence into your skin. His presence suffocating with no way to run or hide on your joined desk. You have to wonder if it will be easier to just give into his advances and not have to look behind your shoulder every second with fear.

He just wouldn't accept no for an answer, not now not ever. No matter how many times you asked him to leave you alone he was always one step behind you.

"come on little mouse, your making it harder and harder for me to hold back" His fingers continued to press shapes into your thigh, long slender fingers moving their way up your leg like a paintbrush on a canvas. a shaking , terrified canvas.

There was something terribly terrifying to you about Taehyung, an off feeling you got right when you first moved to this school at the start of the year. His warm and welcoming smiles changed with every greeting until his smile was dripping in somthing a little sinister, pushing and tormenting you every waking hour of your school days. You didn't notice the way he was pulling the strings around you, your new friends dropping any interest in you, too afraid of Taehyungs influence and threats that no one wanted to provoke him, you simply weren't worth the risk of their comfortable lives.

His father was rich apparently, could expel anyone he wanted at the turn of his lips if he wanted to.

You ask yourself again and again .. why you?

"Go out with me, I'm getting tired of asking and I might just do something about it if you dont stop this cat and mouse game"

At this point you have blocked out Mr Kims lecture on Greek literature to focus on not crying in the middle of a lesson, not wanting to bring any more attention to what was happening under the desk. Taehyung breathing down your ear in the almost silent room of students taking notes.

Taehyung was bad, you thought the worst thing he had done was lock you in the storage shead for hours but he has never gone this far before, you were used to the hair pulling and the snide remarks and even him pushing you up against the wall and stealing your things, the increased amount of dirty talk in your ear, texting you on the weekends about what exactly he wanted to do to you but this was another level or torment.

He was tired of waiting.

You were frozen with the feel of his hands, warming rapidly on your thigh when he molds the flesh under his palm. Your throat constricts as it moves higher to your inner thigh.

Your legs squeeze together, the pen in your hand trembling when he laughs into the shell of your ear. "“Baby, don't do that , I asked you a question. If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me"

You try to focus on Mr Kims voice as he points to something on the projector screen, circling a word in red , the subtle light casting a shadow on his face and illuminating the dark room with a white glow. you cant focus on his words though, only the calming tone of his voice, the only thing keeping you grounded. Your throat bobs, mouth dry with a lump forming in your airway.

"Taehyung, please. please don't"

Taehyung breaks out into a smile as you finally talk, he was starting to really think you were a mouse from how quiet you were, quiet , docile, so easy to take advantage of.

"Thats it baby, use your words, tell me how much you want to be my little rape doll" you felt his fingers under your skirt, feeling their way to your hip and letting a finger hook under the band of elastic, pulling until they snap back against your skin.

"no"

You look around the room to see if anyone heard the sound, voice shaky when you try to remove his hand.

"say no to me one more time and ill take you back to my car and take your ripe virgin cunt"

you cant help but let your tears well up, shaking in fear as he chuckles low in your ear. His fingers pressing into your hip before his slender fingers slide to your clothed delicate folds. The only person that has touched you down there was yourself, your finger experimenting and feeling the silky folds long after your mother had fallen asleep.

You cry into your palm as his fingers work on your pussy, a lone finger slinking up and down to pull a cry from your throat. His other hand digs crescent moon shaped nails into your flesh only making the burn in your throat worse.

"please , it hurts .."

"it hurts ? but your so wet "

A shallow whimper creeps from your lips at the deep gravel of his voice, nothing more then a squeak when he presses his finger at your clothed entrance, begging to penetrate through the barrier.

"Oh you'll be so much fun to play with if you keep making little noises like that , pretty little mouse getting all wet at the though of me hurting her, fucking every hole, I don't think ill even fit"

You shudder, his fingers suddenly feeling like a furnace on your skin, your stomach churning when he moves his fingers to the top hem of your underwear, getting ready to slip his hand underneath the material and have his way with you.

The lights flick on

Taehyung reluctantly removes his hand with an annoyed sigh, the lesson was over and Mr Kim was dismissing the class, turning of the projector screen and collecting his things. you hear him talk about page numbers and homework but your ears are ringing and your feet are numb.

"saved by the bell little mouse, saved by the fucking bell" He stretched in his seat, sending you a lopsided smile before standing, he had nothing to collect as he didn't bother with materialistic and useless things for school his dad will boost his grade anyway. "well ill see you around, id love to finish what I started"

tears overflow the brim of your eyes when he finally walks away, wetting your skin and the sleeve of your shirt that you use to try and wipe your face, the class was clearing out, leaving you still stuck frozen at your desk.

"y/n"

You open your glossy eyes, Mr Kim was standing in front of your desk with concern, his eyebrows dipping when you cry harder, unable to control it. He puts his things down on the adjacent desk before bending down next to your chair.

"sweetheart tell me why your crying, are you sick?"

His eyes were comforting just like how they had always been, a gentle hand rubbing your back as he lets you cry it out. You knew Seokjin or rather your mother knew him so you saw him quite often and he was always kind, a reassuring smile and a playful laugh when you would greet him when he came over to have drinks with your mother to discuss their careers, your mother being a teacher at another school.

"its ok, everyone is gone, you can tell me"

If there was anyone you knew you could trust to tell then it would be Seokjin.

"Use your words y/n, tell me what happened"

You mumble through your tears, taking a deep breath when he instructs you to before you continue to confide in him that your getting bullied, trying not to cry as you tell him about Taehyung and his relentless tormenting and how afraid you were, you leave out the threats he made on touching you and what exactly happened in today lesson, you cheeks heating when you recount what he had said in your ear and how his fingers felt.

Taehyung never left a mark on you so at the end of the day is was your word against his but you knew Mr Kim would believe you. He listens without saying anything, only nodding his head to let you know he was still listening and taking everything you were saying seriously.

"please help me" you cover your face with both of your hands, trapping the tears into your palms, a few streaks slipping through the gaps in your fingers. "y/n". His hand was warm on your shoulder, coercing you to look up at him through your hands.

He doesn't say anything, you could see the gears working in his head but his mouth stays shut as he rises to his full height. Sitting ontop of your desk with folded arms

"surly you've heard the rumors about Taehyungs father and how influence he has right ?"

You nod, already feeling the conversation ending with disappointment. No one would dare stand up to Taehyung in fear of the consequences so why would he ? every teacher already treats him like their boss, cowards bending over to accommodate him and always walking on eggshells, letting him do as he pleases. Seokjin continues.

"good, I'm sure you know that Kim Taehyung is basicaly untouchable, his father does everything he can for him and that includes getting rid of....or getting people for his sons sake"

Again you nod.

"well I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me so you must understand that I'm the only chance you have of getting Taehyung to stop hurting you, no one else will help you, no one else would take the risk "

Now you understood and you were waiting for him to let you down easy, the anticipation eating you alive.

"But I will because I like you and think your an excellent student, I just have one condition, one thing I want from you, understood?" your hands clench in your lap, thumb rolling over your knuckles, you could do some extra work or help clean the class room or do his errands, anything. Youll do anything. you nod and he slips off your desk.

"Good you already listen to instructions so well"

He gently pulls you up from your seat and you wipe at your face with your sleeve, letting him move your body with his hands on your back, pushing you to sit on the front of your desk.Your legs dangle over as he stands infront of you, stepping back a little to let his eyes rake over you.

"This will be easy sweetheart"

You were not prepared for what you were about to hear next.

"Spread your legs for me and lift up your skirt"

your mouth opens slightly to suck in a breath, skin going flush at his demand.

"what-why"

You couldn't help the quickening pace of your heartbeat, his eyes narrowing at you in slight disappointment. "I thought you listened well, spread your legs and lift your skirt for me" His voice was soft but demanding, like it always has been with you. "but i-"

"Do you need me to do it for you ?" He leans against the desk in front of yours, waiting for you to answer him, your cheeks feeling hot at the way he was speaking to you. You shake your head no, if it meant he would stop Taehyung from being mean to you. You slowly spread your legs apart, skirt pulling up your thigh as you open them , your fingers playing nervously with the hem of the skirt, trying to get the courage to pull it up to your waist.

Seokjin looks at you expectantly, a sigh filling the quiet classroom at your disobedience. "Cant do it on your own can you?, let daddy help you"

Seokjin steps forward unexpectantly making you close your legs out of nerves, pushing them back together as he approaches the short distance between you. Rough hands on your knees with his thumbs digging into your skin, his eyes full of authority as he towers over you.

"My instructions were easy"

You squeeze your thighs together, looking down at his hands on your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your knees as he slowly pulls your legs apart to fit between them, palms flat against your thighs as they move up your legs, pulling up your skirt. A satisfied hum in his chest at the sight or you, your hands clutching into the edges of your desk while his eyes stay between your legs.

You gasp, clutching onto his white button up, creasing the pristine material as his fingers trace over your clothed slit. You resist the urge to bite into his shirt to muffle your voice, your knees hitting his thighs when you try to close them from the shock, his disappointed tut as you try to shy away, using his free hand to pull your legs back open, fingers firm in the flesh of your thigh.

"Thats it, don't make me mad sweetheart or ill have to bend you over my desk, keep your legs open just like that"

You hide your face in his shirt, trying to hold in any gasps while he plays with you, finger trying to penetrate you through your panties. Shallow prodding of his finger making you groan into his shirt. His other hand pulling your underwear up until just your clit and entrance were covered, lips spilling out the sides.

"Mr Kim, this feels wrong" you try to push at his torso feeling the lean muscles and heat underneath his shirt when his fingers pinch your clit, he could feel the telltale sighs of your arousal, moving the fabric to the side to let his finger run along your folds. Your legs jerk at the feel of his fingers on your bare slit. His fingers feel diffrent from your own, rough and calculated.

"Because it is wrong and I could get in a lot of trouble if you tell anyone what a slut you have been, opening your legs for your teacher"

You feel his finger rub at your entrance, trying to push the digit into you, an airy laugh circulating the room when it slides right into you, no resistance except for your walls trying to squeeze him out. Nothing but a pitiful squeak and the slick sound of his finger entering you to fill the sound of the class room.

"Do you play with yourself? tonight I want you to think of me touching you like this"

The blunt end of his palm grinds against your clit, embarassed flush to your face when you hear how wet you are, soaking his fingers and palm.

"No, Mr Kim"

He forces a moan out of you, his finger curling up against your walls making you feel weird, an overwhelming sense of pleasure that you couldn't handle. Seokjin slows his fingers but never stops, curling them deeply, fingers massaging your insides with precision, knowing how to make you breathless. The embarrassing sound of his fingers pulling from you slowly, sloppy and wet.

"are you ready to get fucked on daddys cock ?" You shake your head , eyes widening and stomach tightening at the words.

"are you scared? its ok i wont hurt you" Seokjin pulls your legs up, your body slipping until your back was against the cold wood desk, watching with panic as he undoes his belt slowly, looking down at you, your face showing all your emotions and how scared you were, not ready to get fucked.

He notices the small shaky exhale you make when he gets his belt undone, suddenly snapping back to your reality when you sit up. "wait i dont-im not ready and i" He turns his back to you not letting you finish, busy readjusting his belt. Your eyes on his back as he walks over to his desk and reaches for a tissue . Not uttering a word to you as you adjust your underwear back in place and fix your skirt. A horrible sense of dread and disappointment, emptiness filling you to the brim. An uncomfortable wetness between your legs making everything stick to you, your body begging to let go of the pressure building in your core.

But you made the right decision, you don't want this but that dosnt stop you from thinking about how he woudld feel filling you up.

You watch him, shuffling in your spot not knowing what to do or what to say. He uses the tissue to wipe at his fingers, like it never even happened.

"um, Mr Kim"

"speak up Y/N I don't like mumblers"

You clear your throat, embarrassed. His words reminding you of Taehyung and his tormenting nickname for you.

"um, will you talk to Kim Taehyung? since I-since you - you know"

He throws the tissue in the trash can next to his desk, finally turning to look at you, adjusting himself to sit at his desk. "since you what? nothing happened as far as i can see, my deal extends far beyond a few fingers, I want you to take my cock over this desk and until then im afraid I can not talk to Taehyung so if you don't mind I really do have work to do"

Your heart sink at his sudden cold tone towards you, never having been on his bad side in your life making the tingling in abdomen evaporate, heart swirling with hurt. "o-ok" you turn to leave the classroom and he doesn't stop you, doesn't look back at you and doesn't give you his warm smile. you want to cry and you cant explain why, you wish you never asked him to help you.

you would have to deal with Taehyung on your own.

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

Taehyung gets worse, much worse.

And to make it worse your grades drop, unfairly so, Seokjin not even looking at you as he places the paper marked with a red D, barley a pass. Taehyung scoffing at the score on your sheet while he basks in the glory of his A+.

Trying to speak to Seokjin was impossible at this point, you watch him from your desk, his calming smile making whoever he was talking to feel comfortable, roling up his sleeves as he speaks to a female student about her work, warm smile as he hands it back to her. After class you approach him carefully, standing in front of his desk with a frown. You stand for a while, waiting for him to look up from his paper that he was grading when you clear your throat.

He continues to grade the paper not giving you his time.

"I know your there y/n but if I didn't lift my head the first time that means I'm busy"

His cold tone hurts more then it should, stinging like slowly peeling off a bandaid, it settles inside of you. You suddenly don't have the courage to ask why he was being to cold to you, why he changed and instead you gather your thoughts and leave, making sure Taehyung wasn't around when you close the classroom door

you take extra cation to not allow yourself to be alone, which was hard as you had no friends to talk to and keep you safe from Taehyung.

And Taehyung could always, always find you.

cornered in a small space in the school library, predictable on your part.

"such a slutty little girl aren't you"

He pushes your head to the side, laughing at the way your lip trembles at the rough treatment, his slender fingers threading through the roots of your hair and pulling your face back to meet his uncaring eyes.

He tugs a little harder at your roots making you whine in discomfort, the sound like music to his ears, like a mouse in a trap. Tear starting to well up in your eyes, making them burn but you don't dare blink or look away, instead your eyes beg for mercy.

"oh come on little mouse, don't cry yet, I haven't even put my cock inside you, save those tears for when I fuck you"

His hand pats at your cheek, the twinge of pain of his palm against your cheek with each playful slap sending the tears down your face. fingers making dent in your flesh as he pulls your face close to his, other hand still locked into your roots. You try to keep yourself quiet, choking down your sobs and pleads for him to stop, you didn't want anyone to hear you in the silence of the library, his own voice barley above a whisper, making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

"Open up for me , open your slutty mouth"

You bite down on your lip and shake your head.

"please T-Taehyung"

His tongue runs across his teeth as they stretch into a cunning smirk. "oh and hands behind your back, agaisnt the wall" His fingers unlatching from your face to pry your mouth open, hushing you like a baby when you try and protest against him, two fingers slipping into your mouth making you gag, reaching the back of your throat with ease.

He flicks a stray hair from his face with the shake of his head, grinning to himself as you choke, tears running uncontrollably and your eyes red.

"God I love the sound of you begging for me, cant wait to hear you beg for me to feel my cock splitting you open and all you can do is beg and cry, doesnt that sound nice?" He fucks his fingers into your mouth, felling around the inside smooth flesh of your cheeks and the ridged bumps of your teeth before sinking them down your throat again, your throat closing up on them but Taehyung persists.

"Imagine my cock in your throat, your throat was made for it , just a dumb messy little cockslut"

You try to speak past his fingers, drool spilling down his hand and down the sides of your mouth. He pulls his fingers from your mouth slowly, letting you breathe in a gasp of air.

"what was that?, I couldn't hear you"

you swallow down air and spit, trying to calm yourself as quietly as you could. "m not dumb"

Taehyung laughs, hunched over and supporting his weight on the bookshelves like what you said was incredibly dumb, amusement dancing across his face when he faces you again, invading your personal space. "oh but you are, failing all your tests and assignments, thinking about cock when you should be studying"

It wasn't true, you were a good student.You close your eyes and shake your head, not allowing him to get to you.

His hands snake up your legs, palm resting flat, warm hand cupping between your legs and catching you off guard. You cant help the loud gasp echoing across the rows of books, squeezing your legs together.

"no don't"

Taehyung cocks his head and sucks air through his teeth, kicking your legs open with his shoes to make room for his hand.

"what, you don't want me to touch down here?" he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, fingers sliding along your clit making him groan at how wet you are. your legs shaking ready to give out from fear.

"dirty little girl getting all wet for me, im just finishing what we started, your pussy fells just as wet as I thought it would"

You let his fingers play with your folds, elegant fingers sliding circles across your clit, fingers teasing your slit with a constant motion, the sounds of his fingers rubbing over you seemed so loud in the quiet space. A sudden shrill ring from a phone explodes the silence of the library, the annoyed sound of someone shushing and grumbling to turn the phone off. With his hand still down your underwear he answers his phone.

"Jimin, what's up?"

He continues to rub you slowly, looking down at your tear stained face that had mostly dried up with a pout of his lips, you could almost hear the coo coming from his face at your predicament.

"yea yea I'm listening, I'm in the library, bring Jungkook too" he shuts off his phone, sliding it back into his pocket.

"my friends are coming over here right now, I cant wait to show them how dumb you look, show them your wet little cunt"

you whine, pitiful and pathetic. Terrified of the other two seeing you in such a state, what if they want a turn next, you shudder at the thought as fear overtakes your body. "please Tae, ill do anything, just -d-dont" your voice comes out in hiccups, barley being able to stand or take the friction of his fingers. The pads of his fingers starting to stretch you open, sinking inside of you obviously tired of you babbling.

"anything? well from now on I want you to answer your phone every time I call you"

Your hand flies to your mouth to cover the sounds coming out of you, body working against you but you couldn't help it. His fingers were rough, sinking into you until there was an audible slap of his palm against your cunt every time he shoved his finger inside you, his other hand yanking away your hand covering your mouth, he wanted to see you force yourself to be quiet, the rough pace slowing to a dreadful grind.

"I promise, I promise, please"

You hear the familiar sound of his friends approaching, looking down every row of tall books.

"where's Taehyung?"

"Taehyung!"

"shhhhh!, what the fuck is wrong with you Jimin you cant just scream in the library" Jungkook punches him in the arm making Jimin hiss in pain and the force of the others fist.

"ow!"

"oh don't be such a bitch, I think I heard him at the back hurry up"

"Your Just mad I beat you in the last match, got the winning goal and everything"

"fuck off, lets go" Jungkook pulls Jimin by the arm, dragging him to the back of the library.

Your eyes widen, pleading to him with everything you could muster, a few more steps and they would walk in on you getting finger fucked, his hand drenched with the sloppy noises. A few more pumps of his fingers and you were gonna... "Taehyung, -i!" and like that he pulls his fingers out of you, your skirt falling to your thighs and leaving you right on the brink of cuming all over his fingers.

Jungkook and Jimin turn the corner lost in their own bickering, conversation stopping as their eyes fall on you, your body shaking and legs squeezed together, the mass of Taehyungs body shielding you mostly from their view.

"were not interrupting , are we?" Jimin questions with a quirk of his brow, his tone low and suggestive, something you have never heard from his voice but its not like you have ever spoken to him or any of his friends before, only heard their conversations in the hallways or at the back of class. Jungkook stays silent, eyes on you but you don't dare look up from the ground.

"no, not at all, I was just helping y/n here reach a book" Taehyung reaches for a random hard spine book, his wet fingers glistening in the natural lighting giving the other two a clear imagine of what was really happening. He passes you the book, shoving it to your chest and walking away.

--------

Home was quiet, just how you liked it so you could really focus on your studying, the ache between your legs having subsided to a gentle simmer in your stomach and you had yet to do anything about it.

Still trying not to think about your failing grades and how your mother will react when she finds out, how mad and disappointed she will feel after all they she given you. all she has sacrificed for you to go the best school.

You wanted to shrivel up from embarrassment, still thinking about Taehyung no matter what you do to distract yourself. You had already changed out of your soiled underwear, trying to put on a clean pair but the friction of the material every time you moved, sparking arousal and sensitivity means you couldn't focus on your paper due tomorrow. Angerly ripping them off and throwing them to the floor.

You honestly just wanted to sleep, move schools and never look back but life was unfortunate and you didn't have a choice but to go back. you opt to wear a large oversized shirt and no underwear for the time being.

Telling yourself over and over that you weren't dumb, you were smart and you can finish your paper and get an A+, you just needed to focus. sitting down at your desk without anything to distract you as you start typing.

your fingers still on the keyboard, wanting nothing more then to cry when you hear a knock on your door, slaming your laptop shut. you had only been typing for 10 minutes and you were just about ready to cry or rip out your hair. opening the door yor face imminently softens and your back straightens knowing you would get a mouthfull if you frowned or gave attitude to your mother.

"y/n dear Mr Kim is here for dinner, be polite and come down to eat"

You find it hard to swallow, fingers griping the door in nerves. "but mum i really have alot of work-" "no buts and keep this door open or ill remove it from its hinges"

You had no choice but to do as she says. When you make your way down stairs Seokjin was already seated, waiting patiently for you and your mother to join him. His eyes meeting yours before moving down your bare legs, an inkling of a smile on his face as he greets you.

you bend at the waist making sure to bow respectfully to him, greeting him at the table as you sit in your respective seat. Your mothers face moves easily into a smile when she sees Seokjin, pouring two glasses of wine, filling your own glass with water and placing it at your plate.

Your eyes glued to his fingers as he picks up the glass, swirling the sweet liquid before he takes a sip of the wine and hums in appreciation, his eyes on you the whole time before he sets it doen to praise your mother for the excellent choice, silky smooth on his tongue but he wasnt talking about the wine. He made the excellent choice of picking you, he’d like to thank your mother for making you… all for him.

Conversion flows between Seokjin and your mother, silent on your side of the table as you silently eat, not allowed to leave the table unless you eat everything on your plate.

"so how's my y/n doing in your class, she always loved lititure"

You slow your chewing before looking across the table at the two of them, Seokjin side eyeing you before sighing towards your mother. screaming to him in your mind to please not tell her about your recent scores. “she hasn't been doing the best, not as good as i know she can be but when you guys move in ill have alot more time to help her" Your mother face drops, only expecting to hear noting but praise for her daughters hard work, this is not how she raised you.

"y/n is that true"

Your mouth gapes an closes, trying to find the words to say but you come up with nothing, you worked hard but maybe Taehyungs constant tormenting has got to you, loosing out on precious study and mind too far gone to think about work and did he say move in ? Seokjin smiles into himself at your flushed state, stuttering mess as you try to push out the words.

"Mr Kim is moving in?"

Your mother shakes her head in anger. large dimond earing swaying a she shakes her head in disbelief.

"Thats all you heard ? your lucky that me and Seokjin-shi are getting married so he will be around alot more with his son to teach you and tutor you and no we are moving into his house”

You feel sick, stomach doing flips at the anger in her voice, her food untouched, you never liked when people yelled at you and you have to grip your chair. You jump when you feel the cool leather of a shoe at your foot, eyes flicking up to Seokjin as he watches you with heavy eyes just loving the way you squirm.

Never in a thousand years expecting her to say she was getting married, to Seokjin. Your stunned to silence, always knowing she was seeing someone in secret but never did she once mention anything between the two of them. you didn't even knew he had a son.

"I know you must be shocked I was too when he proposed and I wanted to tell you later on but you really bring the worst out of me sometimes, his son is the same age as you so youll get along well"

You could hardly keep up with her talking when you feel the edge of his shoe slide further up your leg. You swallow broken glass, mouth dry as she rambles on. her voice nothing but white noise. Seokjins sweet voice reached out to you "are you okay y/n ? maybe you should go lay down, honey do we have any medicine?"

Your mother looks a little shocked, her soon to be husband already acting like a dad and she cant keep the smile from her face, …to Seokjin it was alot more then that.

"i-i dont feel well, can i be excused"

You hold onto your stomach to seem believable and your mother shoos you away saying she would talk to you about this later, the background noise of Seokjin telling her that you would come around soon and he will make sure to bond with you making you shiver. You move quickly, leaving the adults at the table as they talk about what to do with you.

When you get back in your room you make sure to leave the door open as to not anger your mother any more then you have, heart dropping when you see the bright illuminated screen of your phone on your bed, two miss calls from Taehyung. You suddenly forget all about the kitchen scenario, Taehyungs evil smile occupying our mind.

You panic internally, racing to unlock your phone an call your tormentor back and hope you haven't made him angry enough to go back on his deal, surly he would understand that you were having dinner.

By the third ring of his number you were ready to throw up, was your window to answer over? what was he going to do to you tomorrow, you pick at a loose string on your blanket, dreading to hear the call flatline.

"y/n baby, I was just about to text my friends to see if they wanted to have some fun with you after class, its a shame you decided to call back because that would have been a sight"

you shudder at the low menicing voice making something curl inside of you, pulling at your tear ducts and the tingle of fear induced arousal. A little gasp making it through the line to his ears.

"oh you like that do you, are you in your room?"

You clutch the phone closer to your ear, nodding your head, too afraid to speak but after a few seconds of dreadfully long silence you remember to actually talk. "yes"

"mm good girl, lay down on your bed for me"

your stomach dips at the praise, feeling lightheaded at at the husky voice telling you what to do in your ear. He could hear the rustling of you lying down on your bed, a small creak of springs as you do as your told, he couldn't wait for the day he got to hear how your bed creaks when he fucks you into it, sooner then you think.

"comfortable ?"

"yes"

"good now take your panties off"

You still at the command. "i-i dont have any on"

you heard Taehyung groan into the phone, cussing to himself at your innocent tone, you really diddnt know what you did to him. "fuck, you dirty slut, do you walk around the house in nothing"

you shake your head, no you didn't do such things, you didn't like the way he talked to you but you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything to make him upset "if I was your brother I would have fucked you on every surface of our house years ago, but your an only child aren't you baby, no one to bend you over and use you, no one to keep your greedy holes full"

A whine catches your throat at the filthy words. "d-dont say things like that, its wrong"

"No what's wrong is that im not there to fuck your virgin holes open on my cock so it looks like ill have to settle for second best for now, spread your legs"

your eyes fly to your open door, you cant close it because your mother would hear it shut but you didn't want to anger her. "i-i cant, I have to leave my door open"

Taehyung moans into your ear, static and grueling, you feel every inch of it.

"Even better, I knew you were a little exhibitionist slut, putting your cunt on display for anybody, spread your legs for me baby, wide" You take one last glance at the door and reluctantly open your legs, the long shirt bunching at your waist leaving you fully exposed to whoever decided to walk past. your just lucky your room is upstairs."o-ok I did what you said, can I go now?"

"uh uh uh little mouse, i haven't had my fun yet, put your fingers in your mouth and get them nice and wet for me, spit on them"You do as he says, covering your fingers in your own saliva and letting them hang in the air, feeling gross.

"now push two fingers into your greedy hole, tell me how it feels"

You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, only used to touching yourself with the door closed, lights off and under the covers of your blanket and certainty not with a guest downstairs and someone guiding you. "i- dont want to"

"You dont want to? well that's even better for me because ill get to watch you get passed around by my friends like a cocksleeve, getting you nice and full with different cum, when you get knocked up you wont even know who the father is"

"no ! ill do it, im sorry ill do it"

Your voice breaks, on the verge of tears as you move your fingers down, letting them trace over your slit and down to your entrance, an embarrassed whine when you feel that your already wet, sinking two fingers inside of you.

"God i can hear how wet you are, filthy slut getting off to my voice, thats all you need isn't it, someone to tell you what to do"

You continue to abuse your already swollen hole, the need to cum from being denied multiple times making you feel delirious already. a sudden creek in the floorboards has you opening your eyes in fright, Seokjin leaning against the frame of your door with his hands in his pockets, watching you glide your finger in and out, uncoordinated and slow.

You gasp much to loudly into the phone, closing your legs and trying to sit yourself up when he pushes you back down against the bed, a finger to his lips as he tells you to be quiet , pointing to the phone which displayed Taehyung name. you could hear Taehyung talking but you cover the phone with your hand nervously. "w-where is my mother"

Shame creeps up in red hives across your neck.

"I told her to go out and get some medicine because you said your not feeling good, I told her id take care of you while shes gone, is this where it hurts?"

His sleeve were rolled up his arm, nothing but his watch and a silver engagement ring on his hand as he opens your legs, pushing his fingers into you steadily, your clit sensitive and begging for attention but hardly getting any friction as he pulls them out and back in, you let out a broken moan when his fingers push all the way into the last knuckle, Seokjins cold façade no where to be seen as he fucks you slowly and expertly on his fingers.

"the phone sweetheart"

you lay your head back into the pillow and bring the phone back to your ear, now much harder to control your breathing and the squeaks of plesaure, much more pleasurable then your own fingers. you want to tell Seokjin to stop doing that, to stop fucking his fingers into you but you couldn't with Taehyung on the line, listening to the sloppy sound of you being fucked open, how mad he would be and the consequences if he sound out another man was touching you.

"I know it feels good baby, just a dumb baby that forgets how to speak when something's inside you"

"ts not true, n-not dumb"

"yes you are"

Seokjin removes his fingers from you slowly, easing them out and leaving you empty with your legs spread, his wet fingers opening your legs and silently instructing you to keep them open while he rummages through your draw, his frame blocking your sight so you couldn't see what he was doing. turning to face you this time without a smile, fixing himself between your legs again and silently instructing you to close your eyes. you don't hesitate, letting Taehyungs voice and breathy grunts calm you, giving you praise and hurtful words.

you gasp when you feel something prod at your entrance, opening your eyes to look down at what he was doing, the blunt rounded end of one of your thicker makeup brushes trying to push into you, your own slick dripping onto the handle as he slides the tip end of the brush inside despite the glassy layer of wetness in your eyes and you silent shake of your head, begging him to stop.

please please dont

He sits back on his heels as he watches the smooth handle sink further into you, feeling the slight restriction on the wand as you try to pull away, hips squirming and twisting on the bed at the feel of it penetrating you, he doesn't let you move away from it, pulling it out and back into you over and over, tip circling your entrance a few times before sinking into you teasingly.

Shallow wet thrust of the tip making the most embarrassing sounds before fucking it back into you.

When its fully inside you , you cant help the violated moan you let out, on the edge of crying at the new feeling of having something inside you, how good it felt to be full, Taehyung voice looping you back in.

"I love when you make those noises baby, you really do sound like a mouse with all that crying, it will be much worse when I get my cock inside all your holes, do you want to be a useful cock sleeve or are you going to keep pissing me off"

Your body rocks every time Seokjins thrust it inside you, the smooth plastic stretching you, feeling every time the hilt of the brush was pulled to the tip driving you into a blabbering mess. Seokjins hand glides up your torso, pulling your shirt up to watch your breast bounce together.

"oh no...no.no" your walls squeeze around the wand of the brush, your clit visibly throbbing to be touched. "im gonna pee, please stop, stop daddy"

Your hands reach to hold into something, finding Seokjins hand that was firm against your thigh holding you open, your nails digging into him as you feel the slow pressure begging to release. Taehyungs voice growling in your ear.

"Dont you dare cum"

Seokjin snickers at your pained expression, he could hear his sons voice through the phone and slows his pace to an eventual stop and pulling it out. You whine in frustration and embarrassment when he slides it out of you, not remembering when you had dropped the phone onto the bed but you could still hear Taehyungs laughter, a different type of evil.

The sound of your front door opening and the clicks of your mothers heels. Tears streaming down your face for being denied to cum again. Taehyung is still talking when Seokjin slips out of the room, Making up an excuse to his fiancé that he had to use the upstairs bathroom, the wine just going through him. He seals it off with a kiss to her cheek as he takes the shopping bag from her. It wasn't all a lie, the downstairs toilet bowl ocupied with all the medicine he flushed down while she went to get you from your room, his fiancé looking for the Advil with a confused look on her face, telling him she would be back and she had to run and get some more.

Taehyung was still talking to you through your tears. "awww what a little cry baby, I didn't fucking tell you to stop touching yourself, i cant hear your creamy little cunt making noises so put your fingers back now"

Anger and confusion bubbles up inside you, you really didn't think before you were picking the phone back up, hands turning white as you spit out, "FUCK YOU!" ..... ".... fuck me?"

His voice was barley audible and then the line went flat.

You were terrified and could only think of one thing, one thing to end it all. You steady your phone in your shaky hands and message Mr Kim

Y/n: I accept your offer

Seokjin; Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow

-----------

School was hell

You didn't want to go back

You didn't want to eat alone or deal with people acting like you didn't exist

you didn't want to face either Taehyung or Seokjin ever again

You didn't know what Taehyung was going to do to you after what you said

You had begged your mother to let you have the day off but she shrugs you off with a disappointed glare, testing your temperature and deeming you fine to attend school and insisting that she even drop you off. How unfortunate you must be to run into Taehyung first thing in the morning, grabbing things for class out of your locker slowly while other people were running around, last few people collecting their things and rushing to their first class.

You didn't see it coming, your body being slammed into the male toilets, shoulder striking against the thick push door, all the air pushing out of your lungs before you could manage to scream or grunt in pain when you fall onto the dirty tiled floor, books and laptop sweeping across the ground. You whimper when your pulled by your arm off the floor, your clean dress shoes leaving scuff marks as you try to pull away, weak protest on your tongue as you are shoved against the bathroom sink.

Your eyes widen when your met with Taehyung vicious smirk through the smudged mirror, hiking your skirt up and over your ass. You try to fight back but are silenced with a violent slap to your ass, the sound bounces off the walls and you stop moving, a silent scream bubbling into a small cry.

"now you get it dummy, don't make a fucking sound"

You meet his eyes in the reflection, your eyes red and wanting the let the tears spill over as he pulls down your underwear, letting them dangle on the dirty floor. He lifts one of your knees up onto the sink, your legs wide open for him to do whatever he wanted, pain pulsing through your thigh from the harsh fall, your shoulder equally sore as you try to hold yourself up.

"dont move or its your cunt ill be slapping next"

you bend your head down, not wanting to let him see you cry . your leg holding your weight starting to shake when you hear him rummage around his pockets, pulling something out.

"your lucky I don't just use you as my personal toilet after how you spoke to me like that"

You open your mouth wanting to tell him it was an accident, instead you keep your head down only jumping when you hear the sound of a bottle opening the click of a cap and squeeze of liquid then hissing when two warm fingers slide inside you, you grip the sink at the weird tingling you feel but don't dare speak again or ask what he was doing.

"This is going up your hole for the whole day for being such a dirty slut" he holds up the egg shaped toy, twisting it in his fingers to show you every angle of it. "no, please Tae, someone is going to walk in"

His long fingers rub over you perineum, filtering up to your ass hole before slapping his hand back down onto it and then your cunt, you muffle your strangled cry into your hands. letting the sting settle before you suck in a breath of shaky air. "I think that's what you want, isnt it, for someone to walk in and use your holes, id love to tie you to a cubical and come back at the end of the day and see how well you are used?"

You hear him use the bottle of liquid again before the warm slicked up egg rubs across your slit, over your clit before he pushes it inside you, the tingling sensation was nauseating, brain numbing as heat spreads across your slit and deep inside your walls. Taehyung finishes with placing the opening of the bottle at your opening and squirting more inside you.

"Maybe another time because i want to play with you today, this is warming lube and its gonna make you feel all fuzzy and dumb, also ill know if you take out the toy"

Taehyung pulls your leg back down to keep the lube inside, picking up your discarded underwear and pulling them back up you legs until they were snug against you. "Becasue I have this" he shows you a small controller in the same colour. He pressed the button and chuckles at the way you clench, hands reaching to steady yourself on the sink at the inescapable pleasure of vibrations inside you, the heating lube stimulating your walls and blood flow intill you were pulsating.

He clicks it off.

"so ill know if you don't have it in"

He wipes a few stray tears from the corner of your eyes , his fingers soothing in your hair giving you only a brief moment of reassurance, leaning down to peck the height of your cheekbone before he turns to leave, stepping over the mess of your books on the floor. you gather your book on wobbly legs and leave before someone would walk in and see you shaking, the halls empty as you make your way to class.

-----

you couldn't concentrate on anything during the day as Taehyung played with the controls, vibrations spreading tingles of pleasure through your body making you think of nothing except for chasing the high you desperately wanted, brain fog deterring you form taking in any information during all your classes.

The warming lube doesn't wear off either, keeping you wet and tingly for the whole day until all you could think about was being filled and allowed to cum.

Walking into Seokjins class, last lesson of the day almost in tears but you were just happy the day was almost over, tired to clenching down around the buzzing toy, you make your way to your seat only to see it taken, you had assigned seats so this was confusing.

You walk up to the student but close your mouth when he turns to you, Jungkook looking you up and down with testy expression, raising his eyebrow at you daring to speak to him.

Yoongi beside him having looked up from his phone to you when he hears Jungkook stop speaking.

you feel like you cant breathe, Taehyungs threats lingering in your mind when you make eye contact with them, legs turning stiff and refusing to move. Yoongi glares at you before looking back to his phone. "is she stupid or what". Jungkooks mouth stretches into a laugh at that, eyes still glued to you silently tormenting you, moving down your body.

"y/n, back here"

You feel a sigh of relief at Taehyungs voice calling you, something you never thought you would like to hear. you turn, trying to look for Taehyung and stopping short as you come face to face with Jimin, his lips falling into a subtle smile at your wide eyes, you immediately look to the ground and apologise.

"you shoud watch where your going, hate to knock such a small thing like you over"

You were not small but his words made you feel tiny, bowing your head and trying to move around him. You were actually happy to see Taehyung, sitting in the back seat with his legs over the desk, twirling the pen between his fingers expertly. smile wide on his cheeks as you approach him. He pats the seat next to him on the joined desk.

This wasnt going to be good but its better then the suffocating tension of being near his friends, not totally getting away unscathed when you notice Namjoon and Hoseok, his other friends sitting infront of you at their joined desk, the sight of Hoseok giving you chills. you never liked him despite his smiling complexion, a gut feeling to make sure to stay away.

you take your seat next to Taehyung, a little bit of weight lifted from your shoulders just glad to be away.

"the weather is pretty nice today isnt it"

You turn your head to him, confused at the friendly conversation starter. His fingers drumming over the worn out wood of the desk, graffitied with all sorts of pen markings. you missed your clean desk up near the front.

"um, yea its nice"

He smiles at you, the unfamiliar warm smile he sends you making you feel weird, an off feeling wrenching your gut but it was nice, the little pull of his lips calming you to relax into your seat.

He continues to drum his fingers into the desk, your legs bouncing in nerves to the beat, Mr Kim pushing his glasses up his nose when pulls out a marker, underlining the incestuous acts of Greek mythology, explaining how Zeus Took His Daughter Persephone's Virginity, he described the acts as if it was poetry and you tense as Seokjin tells the story, his eyes seeming to keep landing on you in the back as he recites some lititure on the subject, your legs bouncing up and down.

Tahehyungs voice in your ear and hand closing over your knee makes you jump.

"your so tense baby, is this turning you on?"

His hand moves up your thigh, a condescending coo in his voice when you shake your head, begging him not to do anything. "your sweating baby, here lets take these off, it will feel better"

You feel Taehyungs fingers pull down your underwear slowly, his fingers trailing down your legs and ignoring your begging for him not, without them you would leak everywhere.

"Taehyung please"

He collects the fabric in his hands, shoving the wet underwear in his pocket before reaching back to his goal, spreading your legs open under the desk and lifting your skirt until he could see your red swollen clit, pulsating with a need to be touched "wow your dripping into the chair, does it feel good inside you"

Seokjins voice booms across the room.

"ok everyone if you could please hand in your assignments to me now, no groaning or excuses today because I sent out a email last night to all of you reminding you, if you didn't complete it then you will have detention"

your face pales, completely forgetting the assignment, having to deal with Taehyung making your life hell and Seokjin distracting you last night, you couldn't get it done.

Taehyung pulls one of your legs into his lap, pulling your legs apart even further making you clench around the toy to keep it in. the toy starts to vibrate inside you on the smallest setting, Taehyung reaching his finger down to play with your entrance

"Taehyung please, not here"

"I own you and this cunt now you understand and it seems your little audience likes it aswell"

you face the front of the class, locking eyes with Namjoon and Hoseok as their eyes watch Taehyung finger you, all the warming lube leaking onto the chair. your try to desperately close your legs, embarrassment and fear but Taehyung keeps you open for their eyes.

"I might just change my mind, I wouldn't mind whoring you out to my friends "

The bell silences your whine, your brain foggy and stunned as you lean your head against the desk

"Y/n, Taehyung please stay where you are, ill be right back you both have detention"

notes: yes they will both fuck her in part 2 and maybe a ot5 (taehyungs friends) gangbang

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #bts smut #bts reader insert #bts x reader #dark bts smut #bully taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #dark taehyung #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #bts yandere #bts noncon

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nitholites · 5 years ago

Text

Assuming someone in the BatFam is the end game:

It's been only a week or so since Tony figured out who Ladybug is

She's captured everyone's hearts, but has to go to Gotham soon

For help, but also because of her internship

The Stark Gala becomes a 'you better live and come back one day, Mari or I STG' party, hosted by Tony Stark, of course

She makes all the outfits of the Starks, her parents, herself, Jagged, Penny, Luka, and Kagami (the last two friends minus Chloe from Paris) and she makes extra in case someone has a wardrobe malfunction

Meanwhile, the Waynes have heard a lot about the newest Stark: MDC

Tim is a fanboy. He's found everything related to his favorite rock star's designer/niece there is to find ("I'm not obsessed! They're just super talented, and I'd like something from them! Stop laughing at me, Dick!")

Dick has no room to tease him, as both him and Jason are pretty much in the same boat

Kor'i and Mar'i love MDC, as well

Every one of the Bats are huge Jagged Stone fans

Like... Nearly rabid

(Damian, Bruce, and Alfred redact that statement)

They're invited to Tony's gala thing (he only started it to surpass the Wayne Gala, like the Lil Shite he is)

The night of the party, only Bruce and Jason go, since the rest of the bats are busy

Bruce, Jagged (who brought Fang), and Tony are all chatting in the middle of the floor, 2/3rds of the group are just talking up Marinette

Jason, meanwhile, accidentally runs into this small, adorable child who proceeds to spill her punch all over his suit

He insists it's fine, but she won't take 'no' for an answer ("I am so sorry, please let me make it up to you" "Kid, it's fine, accidents happen" "No, seriously, let me help")

There's a look in her eyes that insists she do something, and he eventually agrees

Cue to Marinette having a suit jacket that matches and fits Jason because "You look like you're the same build as Mr. Stark (she's all for joining Peter in calling Tony 'Mr. Stark' to get under his skin)"

"you know Tony?"

She shrugs, and doesn't comment anymore on it

"give me your address, and I'll bring this back when it's clean again. I'm moving to Gotham for a while soon, anyway"

He does, she doesn't realize he's a Wayne, and they part when the party ends

Cue the entire BatFam sprinting into Jason's room, chasing after a full on scream

Like, they didn't know Jason's voice could get "so high and squeaky, what the hecc?"

They pause as they see Jason litterally jumping up and down

"What the hell, Todd."

Instead of answering, he shoves the jacket in Tim's face with a shite-eating grin

It takes a moment, but Tim scowls and pulls out his wallet

When the rest of the family only look confused, Tim sighs and explains

"He got an MDC original first."

"...you had a bet on that?"

Jason freezes, eyes widening

"HOLY SH*T, I MET THE MDC! SHE WAS SO TINY, OH MY GOD, BATS, WE HAVE TO ADOPT HER!"

They're confused for a solid minute

"YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SHES AN ANGEL AND HAS BLACK HAIR AND BLUE EYES!! SHE'S OBVIOUSLY A WAYNE!"

It takes all of Bruce's willpower not to adopt her on the spot when she visits them

Like, he almost brings up adoption papers

But he knows Stark would fight tooth and nail to keep this baby

So he restrains himself

(for now)

(he swears if one of his children doesn't marry her, he's bringing the adoption papers to court)

She doesn't stay long, only meeting all the Waynes at the house and going back to her hotel

The next day, a villain goes after Mar'i, near the park/mall/something Marinette is by

Instead of becoming Ladybug, she heccin kicks arse

As Marinette

She gets both her and Mar'i out of danger without a scratch using a yo-yo of all things and meets Batman and Robin as they clean up the rest

She's all like "no, it's alright, I'm sure anyone would do the same please stop thanking me, my family's gonna kick my ass to next year for scaring them like this"

Bats comes up and takes her statement, and she happens to mention the situation in Paris

"oh, this was nothing compared to some of the Akuma I've faced" "What's an akuma?" She paled, eyes widening in shock. "You don't know? About Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko, Viperion, Queen Bee, Red Wasp, Multimouse, Hawkmoth, Mayura, Carapace, Rena Rouge, and all them?"

She explains a little, giving basic information everyone knew, then shows him the app she made a while ago

The Akuma Alert app that held much more than just akuma-related things

She leaves soon after, and Batman has a goal in mind

Within the day, Diana is furious at the lack of response towards the Paris situation

"This Ladybug was left alone for all this time?! Shame on you all, leaving my mother's successor alone!"

When Ladybug is later spotted (hehe, get it?) in Gotham, the entire BatFam finds her and gets her in touch with the League

She explains how she asked both the League and the Avengers for help, all those years ago, and was pushed aside with warnings not to send in prank calls anymore

Of course, Iron Man has already looked into it, but he's not exactly a detective and the more brains on this, the better

Meanwhile, as civilians...

The normal shipping stuff happens

With the exception that nearly every criminal in Gotham low-key adopts Marinette

They may think she's the next Wayne, but the Angel of Gotham is off limits

And not because the little Wayne chases after anyone who even looks at her wrong with a katana

Not just as Robin. As Damian

Marinette actually meets a few villains on the street

She was going to a commission, carrying some hero, vigilante, and villain themed macaroons when she got lost

(before meeting the Waynes officially, actually)

She was in a park, looking lost when Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn came up

She offered treats, and ever since she's the Angel of Gotham

Once, when on a date with her romantic interest, Killer Croc tried taking the restaurant hostage after robbing a bank

Key word: tried

Marinette calmly slipped behind him, grabbed his tail, and dragged his butt outta there

(he blames the fast French girl and the tile on the floor, which didn't let him get a good grip)

By the time Bats and the police got there, Croc was in tears as this tiny French girl lectured him about manners and interrupting dates

(the BatFam can't think of a funnier time)

When the Joker actually kidnaps her as a way to get to Batman, literally everyone rages a rescue mission

Harley, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze (Marinette reminds him of the daughter he's always wanted, with his frozen wife), Two-Face (Marinette talked philosophy with him, showing him he still had choices beyond the black and white), Killer Crock (who was impressed by the tiny French girl who threw him out of a restaurant by his tail that one time), Batman, Robin, the Teen Titans, Red Hood, Red Robin, Wonder Woman (she could feel Tikki's influence on Marinette and guessed her identity), Nightwing, all the Avengers, Red Wasp (Chloe, with the Bee Miraculous because she earned it back ages ago), Sabine (no one messed with her baby. No one), a teenage boy wielding a potato gun (who let this kid here?), Pepper, Penny (the two women were fast friends, bonding over their husbands' eccentric ways), Jagged with Fang, Audrey Bourgeois, and the entire police force storm the Joker's hideout

He didn't have a chance

Later, they admit it was kinda funny watching the small Sabine beating the crap out of the deranged clown

Fang, who was usually a puppy with scales, didn't hesitate to bite off the Joker's hand, reminiscent of Captain Hook and the Croc

Marinette's fine (or not, depending on how much angst you want in the story. It's easy to have her tourtured and nearly killed in the Joker's clutches {or actually killed and focused on angst from everyone who knew her [possible heavy Lila/class salt]} and see her move past her PTSD) and she gets home eventually

Around this time, she's made the Guardian of the Miraculous

She eventually goes back to Paris with her huge family (or everyone she thinks could keep their emotions in check)

They kick Gabriel's arse, but Adrien gets away with his mother (who was healed by Ladybug)

Possible second book

Marinette's ship becomes the Black Cat

Time skip, fiveish years later, some of Marinette's classmates see her for the first time since she left

They insult and sass her, not changed since school

Her S/O scowls and debunks them easily, defending Marinette

When they don't stop, Marinette's S/O calls Bruce, Tony, Jagged, and the rest of the League and the Avengers to destroy the morons in the class because they know how long they've waited for this moment

Mari puts her head in her hands, but doesn't stop them because she knows how long they've waited for this moment

Three hours later, the speeches and lectures aren't done yet

Lila eventually goes to Gotham or wherever Marinette is, and tries to warn the person on her arm about Marinette's 'bulling tendencies'

That gets another lecture

Or, her class gets a tour at either SI or WE, depending on when in the story you write it (could be both, and the class just doesn't learn or Tony, Pepper, and their kids were visiting WE to talk about Mari Protection Measures when they overhear it)

Lila goes off on how Mari's S/O is actually Lila's, or how she's BFFS with Batman/Iron Man/ Bruce Wayne and his kids/ Tony Stark and his kids/ the Avengers/ the Justice League

Cue the class seeing Mari

Instant bullying

The resident children and billionaire steps up, insulting and embarrassing the class while defending Mari

Lila tries to turn it around, but they're having none of that

First the kids jump at the chance to defend their little sister and/or girlfriend, then the big guns show up

At WE, it's Bruce, a highly protective Jason, and Tim, who has every single sin/mean thing/lie pulled up in a folder

It's thicker than his hand, and hard to hold

It's both in digital and physical form and sent to every single member of Mari's family- blood related or not

At SI, it's Tony and Pepper

FRIDAY steps up, too

Harley shoots Lila with the potato gun mk 3 until she leaves

The class don't know what they did wrong, but they swear to make it up just to get the scary CEOs and relatives

Also, if anyone knows the AU where Marinette was a street kid with Jason and his little sister (I can't remember who made it or what it was called, but I fell in l o v e), that could work with this one too. Jason would be so proud of his Lil sister being so famous and awesome and "how dare you let me think you were dead!! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" "I made you worried?! You up and nearly got killed last I checked!"

Jason swore not to tell her he actually died once. He prays she never finds out.

@tired-butterfly @evil-elf16 @doggiediva13 @krispydefendorpolice @mochegato @legallyspawned @kryptored

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whumpsies · 5 years ago

Text

You’re No Leader

Rating: Teen (13+)

Word count: 1,088 words

Triggers: Bullying, mocking, panic attack

Whump prompt (from @heartlesslywhumping ) : A stoic whumpee being mocked when they finally break down and cry

———

Spot Conlon did not cry. He was toughened by the streets to have a spine of iron, forcing his way to the top. Young kids looked up to him and if he cried, his respect would be lost.

Trembling slightly, the sound of rough fabric scratching against itself was present in the relatively silent night. An occasional drunk stumbling home broke the odd serenity. Candles in home windows and the fire from the factory smokestacks lit the path well enough to see where he was going.

The air was cool, on the brink of chilly. All of the buildings being built were funneling the wind through the streets, making city life colder. It didn’t help with the stinging in his eyes or the biting at his skin. In fact, it brought tears that much closer to falling.

Spot had been informed that the bulls had attacked, and that Crutchie was in the refuge. All those newsies soaked because he couldn’t bring himself to let someone else lead him. He swallowed thickly as he stumbled.

The streets soon became empty, just the occasional animal moving about. Most candles had been blown out and no light led him down the street. He felt like a shell, not really there anymore. A deep breath in shifted the burden he carried, not relinquishing it.

Spot’s feet should have led him home but they didn’t. When he finally looked up, he was in front of the docks. A numb sort of relief settled in him as he toed off his shoes, stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the pier.

The feeling of being alone right now warmed him to the point of burning. It was a double-edged sword. Spot wanted to be alone but not by himself. Loneliness built up until it broke.

He caused this. He let newsies get hurt, when he could have aided them. Spot ached at the realization that someone could have died today because he didn’t like being challenged.

As a tide hit his legs, the tears sprung free. He took a choppy breath in to subdue it, only to find it wouldn’t work. Wiping furiously at his face, Spot couldn’t stop them.

“So this is where you were,” a voice called out. Spot froze, not daring to turn around. The words were laced with venom and he knew the water from his eyes would fuel it.

“Jacobs,” he croaked out, bringing his feet out of the water and his knees up to his chest. Footsteps could be heard, boards creaking under the weight. Shuffling sounded as David sat on one of the posts near the edge.

“Was that enough proof for you , or would you want me to bleed myself?” David hissed. The implications hit Spot in the stomach and he couldn’t help but let a sob out. David seemed curious but not surprised.

“God, I-I’se-“ Spot whispered, choking on his breath. David seemed unamused and just looked at him. A glance to the sky told him he had about an hour before he needed to head to Manhattan before dawn.

“Are you done yet? You don’t deserve to cry. This is on you. Les broke his arm, Jack has hysteria, and Smalls won’t wake up. Every single one of those boys are hurt because you said no,” David hissed, emphasizing on the ‘you’, “And when big bad Brooklyn says no, so do all of the other boroughs.”

Spot felt the tears fall down his face freely as he envisioned all of the Manhattan boys soaked in the street. One of them isn’t waking up because he didn’t show. A small wail left his lips as he shook from the guilt in his chest.

“Go on, Spot. Cry. Cry as your boys are home and safe, working another day. Cry as none of them were soaked by full grown adults with batons. Do it, Conlon.” he mocked. David slid off the post and walked over to Spot, who was shaking his head, hands tugging on his hair. He was hyperventilating; the world becoming fuzzy as he lost oxygen.

“You should cry more. Maybe then no one would respect you. They’ll see that you abandoned others in need over your power-hungry Napoleon complex. Always have to be on top, huh,” Spot had never heard such wrath directed at anyone before with such precision, and it cut him to the bone.

He hiccuped and gagged, coughing from over-exertion. He kept repeating chants of ‘it’s my fault’ to himself. A bitter chuckle could be heard above him.

“Yeah, it is your fault. Crutchie was hit in his back with his crutch. I hope to god he’s not paralyzed, otherwise you should be expecting a lead pipe to yours. But go on, cry like you couldn’t have prevented this. Show the world that you deserve pity.” David gestured to the world around him, slamming his hands back to his sides. He leant down and jerked Spot’s chin to meet his eyes.

Spot tried to squirm out of David’s grasp, only to be clamped harder on. He let out a cry of pain and opened his eyes from force. David had a black eye and a busted lip.

“You’re no leader, Spot Conlon. You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I hope that whenever you cry, you see my face. You think of how pathetic you are that you’re crying when it’s my boys that are wounded. And god, I hope you think of your cowardice whenever you ask for help. You don’t deserve Brooklyn.” he growled, punctuating every ‘you’ with a shake to his jaw. He pushed Spot backward on the dock, sprawling him on the ground. Dusting himself off, David stood up. He walked off the pier and gave one last glance over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Sean. You have no place in this strike.”

Out of all the things that hurt, that sentence hurt the worst. That he had no right fighting for equity when he couldn’t make the first step toward equality. Spot looked to the water, wondering if drowning would feel better than the agony raging through him.

He picked himself up, tears and all, walking off the dock. Numbness muted his thoughts. All except one.

He’d never show his face in New York again.

#newsies #newsies musical #spot conlon #david jacobs #davey jacobs #musical #newsies fanfiction #fanfic #whump fic #whumpfic #whumpblr #whump drabble #whump prompt #whump writing #jack kelly #newsboys #one shot #teen rating

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time-is-a-pain · 5 years ago

Text

Bella Is Not Impressed: Part Two

Previous, Next

“And that’s how I ended up saving a litter of stray kittens from a Southern Smooth snake”

Bella rolled her eyes as the latest of Lila’s tall tales reached her ears from where she was sitting surrounded by her faithful listeners.

“That’s bull. Southern Smooth snakes are in southern France. It’s literally in their name.”

“I know I’ve already said it a lot,” Marinette started from her seat across the table, “but I’m so glad there’s someone else here who realizes that Lila is lying.”

Bella shrugged, “Honestly Mari, um, full offence to Alya and the others, but it’s not even that hard to tell she’s lying.”

Marinette sagged a little and Bella instantly felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant to make her only friend in the country sad. But she was right, the things Lila tried to sell as the One and Only Truth were quite frankly ridiculous and Bella couldn’t believe anyone bought it.

“I know,” Marinette grumbled in frustration, “no one will notice the glaring holes in her stories and I can’t even get Alya to fact check any of them.”

Bella was patting Marinette’s arm when Adrien sat down at their table. “Hey, I heard you guys talking about Lila.”

Bella didn’t miss the way Marinette heaved a sigh and scooted away from her crush. Which was weird considering how hyped she’d been at the idea of sitting together in class. Bella also didn’t miss the mumbled “I didn’t tell her.” aimed towards Adrien.

“You mean the Liar?” Bella asked bluntly, noting with interest the way Adrien flinched.

“You haven’t told anyone about her lies, have you?”

Bella shrugged and folded her arms, “I haven’t seen any reason to yet, and quite honestly I have a bet going with my uncle about how long it’ll take before her Faithful Listeners catch on a hole.”

Adrien but his utensils down, frowning slightly. “You shouldn’t tell anyone about her lies.”

Bella raised her eyebrows. “No one, not even if I have a good reason to?”

Adrien shook his head. “If you tell on her there’s a risk she’d be Akumatized, and no one wants that.”

Marinette deflated more and Bella scowled. “No. If I have a good reason to tell on her, be it that her lie is spreading actually harmful information or that her lie is causing someone to feel bad enough to be Akumatized, then I will.”

Adrien started to argue but Bella cut him off. “From what I’ve seen of Paris, everyone is at risk of becoming an Akuma. Even those of us right here at this table. I will not, enable anyone to be a manipulative bully just on the off chance that they’ll be forced to show their true colors.”

Bella glared at Adrien, daring him to argue. He didn’t. But he did huff and leave the table. Marinette lightly kicked Bella’s leg under the table, pointing to the other side of the room when she had Bella’s attention. Apparently the group had heard at least part of what Bella had said and were staring at them. Bella couldn’t quite read Lila’s expression, but everyone else’s was clear. They were all confused as to who the manipulative bully Bella mentioned was.

Bella sighed and turned away. “Just ignore them. If they want to know they’ll have to tear themselves away from their precious darling and ask.”

Marinette and Bella finished their lunch in silence, keenly aware of the rest of the class throwing puzzled looks their way. Marinette kept Bella in the lunchroom for a minute after the bell rang and everyone had filtered back to class.

“Can I talk to you after school?”

Bella agreed, wondering what Marinette wanted to talk about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After school let out Bella waited for Marinette by the gate. She knew that Marinette’s bakery wasn’t that far from school and the two of them had agreed to talk there during a lull in class. Bella still didn’t really know what Marinette wanted to talk about, but the way she twisted her hands and wouldn’t look Bella in the face made her worried.

She greeted Marinette’s parents when they got to the bakery and happily munched on the pastry Mr. Dupain had given her on the way up to Marinette’s room.

Marinette sat in her desk chair, motioning for Bella to sit on the bed. Bella toed her shoes off and sat cross-legged on the bed.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Marinette chewed her lip, obviously finding it hard to start. Bella knew what that was like.

“Does it have to do with what we were talking about at lunch?”

Marinette nodded and Bella rolled her head back, thinking about which part of their conversation could have sparked this.

“What’s the biggest word in your head right now?”

Marinette brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Butterfly.”

Bella felt a knot start twisting itself into her stomach. That word and Marinette’s body language were Not Good together. She started to ask another question, but it seemed that was all Marinette needed to get started.

“I was almost Akumatized. In the bathroom, Lila’s first day back at school.”

That knot moved up to Bella’s heart and started burning. She had to remind herself to calm down before she got angry enough to attract a butterfly of her own.

“I knew she was lying, and she threatened me. Said she would take away all my friends.”

Bella flexed her hands, biting her lip to keep herself from pointing out that Lila had pretty much already accomplished that.

“Does Adrien know about that part?” Bella struggled to keep her voice even.

Marinette shook her head, “I couldn’t tell him,” she whispered. “Because Lila threatened to take him away from me too. He made me promise not to expose her. Said it wouldn’t be a good example and it was okay as long as we knew and she wasn’t hurting anyone. He said exposing her wouldn’t make her a better person.”

Bella sucked in a breath. “Mari, I hate to say this cause I know how much you care about Adrien, but that is a steaming pile of bs. It isn’t your job to make sure Lila becomes a better person and all you’re doing by not calling her out is telling her that it’s okay to walk all over you.”

Marinette curled up tighter, tears welling up in her eyes. “But what about the chance she’ll get Akumatized?”

Bella leapt off the bed and went to pull her over to the bed where Bella gently gathered Marinette into her arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Just like I said at lunch, allowing and enabling someone to manipulate their way into ruining someone’s life, your life, is in no way excused by the possibility of Lila being Akumatized.”

Marinette nodded, burying her face in Bella’s neck to hide her tears. Bella rocked them back and forth, rubbing Marinette’s back and humming her favorite tune. Some time passed before either of them spoke again, content to simply rock back and forth.

“Mari?” Marinette hummed, tickling Bella’s neck. “Mari have you told your parents?” Marinette stiffened and a long moment passed before she shook her head. Bella rushed to assure that it was okay. They sat again for a long while, Bella managing to get Marinette’s promise that she’d tell her parents about Lila and her threats before the week ended. Bella almost called her parents and tell them she’d be having an impromptu sleepover, but Marinette had turned down the offer.

“Thanks, but I already feel much better. And I have your number if things get bad again.”

So Bella had instead called her parents to pick her up from the bakery, hanging out with Marinette and her parents until they arrived. On the way home Bella talked to her dad about the best way to collect evidence against a bully. That got her some worried looks, but she was quick to assure them the bully wasn’t hers.

When they were home and Bella was up in her room, she texted Ley-Ley. In part to vent and part to see what his demonic take on the situation would be.

Bella: Heyyyyyyyyy are you up?

Ley-Ley: Am now, what’s up?

Bella: I need to yell and also I need your demonic opinion.

Ley-Ley: Wait hang on, let me get angel in on this.

Ley-Ley: Okay, yell away

Bella: Okay SO. You remember sausage girl? Yeah she’s a huge liar. Like, first day at school she claimed to know you before you’d gotten popular and you said you’d never met her, plus you’ve been popular since we were tiny babs.

Bella: So obviously she was lying but I figured, “what the hell, it’s not like that kinda lie would hurt anyone here.” so I left her alone.

Ley-Ley: Uh oh. This is looking bad already

Bella: But then I found out today that my friend Mari has not only been threatened by sausage girl, she was nearly Akumatized because of her.

Bella: And to top it off, Mari’s crush knows that sausage girl is lying, but doesn’t know that she threatened Mari, and made Mari promise not to expose Liela because “doing so wouldn’t make her a better person.”

Ley-Ley: First of all, bullshit. Second of all, that’s not your friend’s job? If sausage girl is a bad person then she is gonna have to be the driving force behind being a better person.

Bella: That’s what I said! And to make matters worse, the teachers at school are all whipped into favoring the bullies. Except Mrs. Mandeliev, but unfortunately we aren’t in her class.

Ley-Ley: WHAT?!? The teachers are supposed to help the kids being bullied, not the other way around!

Bella: I know! What makes this ironic is the teacher told me outright to report if I saw anyone getting bullied. And then she turns around and tells the bullied kid to “be the better person” and keep letting the bully (Chloe) walk all over them.

Ley-Ley: Angel’s saying we should go to Paris and knock some sense into your school.

Bella: XD Please

Bella: In all seriousness though, it would be nice if you were here.

Bella:

They know my uncle is one of the most popular gardening blogs in London, but I never told them you’re my uncle and they all heard the story of how Liela met the famous A.J. Crowley before he became a popular blog so having you show up and then deny ever meeting her would also be a good start in tearing her web apart

Ley-Ley: Bella my sweet niece, I would be happy to help you defend your friend. Aziraphale and I will be in Paris next week.

#miraculous ladybug #good omens #ml fic #mild salt #ari writes #my ocs #bella rose #Lunch Time Conversation #bella is not impressed

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escapefromarchoncastle · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter One – Archon Castle Is Not What It Seems

Terry trudged up the gravel path, already dreading Archon Castle was not going to live up to the promotional material. The ravens and vultures, perched like Halloween ornaments on a sprawling oak tree, looked embarrassingly fake. Bald patches of black plastic gleamed between the glued-on feathers. He should have figured. His parents had warned him. At fifteen, he was no longer a child. It was stupid to believe magic existed outside of camera tricks and CGI. Yet he held onto a fraying thread of hope, the same way he had with Santa Claus each Christmas until he was nearly in middle school.

A caw loud as a falcon’s screech startled him. He stopped at the edge of the trail and gawked up. The blackbirds had come alive. They fluttered their wings, still looking a bit mangy. They stared down at him as if they were sizing up their next meal. Terry continued walking, more slowly now, and glancing over his shoulder at each odd sound in the woods. None of the other hundred-odd kids traipsing along the same trail appeared at all spooked. They all had eager expressions on their faces, eyes wide as if they’d never seen trees in their wild habitat before.

The stone walls of the castle came into view above the canopy of evergreen trees. Terry felt his breath sucking deep into his lungs at the imposing sight. Archon Castle sat atop a black, craggy cliff, menacing and ancient. Clouds had gathered overhead. Mist swirled around. He came around a bend and trail ended at a drawbridge flanked by a pair of watchtowers. The top of a turret beyond had crumbled as if a bad-tempered giant had kicked at it. Even after studying countless pictures online, Terry still found it hard to believe such a castle existed in West Virginia of all places. It looked as though it belonged off the coast of Ireland or had come from another realm.

A large boy bumped against Terry. Terry did his best to ignore him as he bumped against him a second time. Probably Chad. Terry’d noticed him in the parking lot earlier, picking a fight with an Asian boy until his dad called him away. Again he found himself staring at the castle, filled with an uncanny sensation he was being drawn into another time and place. The walls looked so ancient. Rock had crumbled away from the narrow arrow slits. Most of the tiles on top of the watchtowers were cracked or missing. The wooden timbers used for the drawbridge must be over a thousand years old. The trail turned sharply and descended again. The castle was no longer in their view.

“Hey. You.”

Sweat trickled down Terry’s spine as he braved a glance. Chad’s eyes were locked on someone else thankfully, a small blond boy with a bad haircut. Terry froze, unsure what to do. He wasn’t one to take on bullies, but this kid was half Chad's size. Terry's hands curled into fists. His fingers flexed. He used to be the little guy everyone had picked on but he’d grown quite a bit since the seventh grade. Chad wasn’t that big; he could take him. Terry had fantasized, repeatedly, of exactly this scenario where he’d seize the bully by his shoulder, force him around, and land a hard boxer’s punch to knock him out cold.

Paralyzed with indecision, he watched Chad grab onto the boy’s yellow tennis shirt and pull it over his head. The boy went to head-butt him, missed, and plowed into a red-haired girl. Enraged, she let out a shriek and tore at both of them, her fingers like bared claws. Terry ducked away from the melee and stood on the grass verge. He was about to pull Chad off the boy when a man in long black robes fluttered up to them.

“ENOUGH!” the man roared, grabbing Chad by the scruff of his hoodie. “Any more of this and you won’t be wondering whether this castle has a dungeon.”

Chad went pale. His body quivered. Eyes bugged out, he stammered, “Y-y-yeah. S-suh-sir.”

The blond boy pulled his yellow shirt back down, smoothed his hair, and gulped as if he were staring into the face of Death. “I’m sorry mister.”

The scuffle was over. Terry’s chance at a moment of glory had passed. Disappointed and yet also relieved, he secured the strap of his backpack against his shoulder and got back on the gravel trail. The man in black was gone as quickly as he’d appeared. Chad and some of the others craned their heads around, brows furrowed, until someone pointed out a shadow slinking through the trees. The tall dark figure was moving way too fast and smoothly for it to be a person running. Terry's skin flushed with excitement––the man was flying! He was only a foot or two off the ground, but still, he was skimming into the woods like a hovercraft.

The trail veered upward again. Terry wondered if they were ever going to reach the gates. The last he’d glimpsed, the castle had looked so close and now he could see nothing again but pine and fir trees.

“Oh my God, this is Archon Castle?” a girl’s dismayed voice cried somewhere up ahead. “What a dump!”

Terry caught up with her at the top of the hill and stared ahead, dismayed. She wasn’t kidding. To say this castle was in disrepair was like saying a bombed-out ruin just needed a little fixing up. The entire western wall had crumbled to rubble. The castle still looked as if it had been built much earlier than the mid-1800s, and had been under siege for most of it.

He gulped and eyed the sagging roof of the keep. He’d seen abandoned farmhouses in better condition. The gatehouse was even more dilapidated. The tower on the left had partially collapsed. The timbers keeping the tower on the right propped up looked about as sturdy as twigs for a hermit shack. A sewer-like stench wafted into his nostrils. The stink was coming from the swampy, algae-filled moat.

“May I have your attention!” a surly voice called. Different from the one who’d broken up that fight. Everyone huddled together, keeping their distance from the figure in front of the gatehouse. He also wore a black cloak, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. His arms were raised up high so that he formed the shape of a cross. He looked more like the figure of Death than a wizard. All he was missing was a scythe. “Once you have passed onto the grounds of Archon castle, you will be unable to leave before summer end. I strongly advise anyone wishing to turn back, to do so now.”

A boy on Terry’s left raised his hand.

“Yes?”

The boy gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Do we get a refund, sir?”

“NO.”

Terry was torn. All his life he’d dreamt of becoming a wizard. Yet his parents were practical people, who stressed the importance of having a backup plan no matter what dreams you aspired to. Although not quite ready to let go of his childish fantasies, he did have an alternative career in mind. He’d be a journalist. That way if he failed at becoming a wizard this summer, he’d have a good story to write about. His Uncle Pete said the boilerplate non-disclosure form Terry’d had to sign was bull-puckey. If he turned back now, he’d have nothing. He watched Chad whisper to the one asking about the refund.

More loudly Chad said, “Only welfare cases think ten grand is a lot of money. Let’s blow this joint!” Chad patted the boy’s shoulder and the two of them began jogging back down the trail. It figured, bullies were always the biggest wimps. Another two dozen or so followed.

“Good riddance,” a dark haired girl whispered in a singsong voice to no one in particular. “The fewer people who go inside, the higher my own chance of becoming an initiate.”

She had a point. She began striding forward and Terry followed her onto the drawbridge. A sharp, cracking sound sent stabs of terror into his chest as a plank gave way beneath his foot. He stumbled onto a sturdier plank, and stayed put until his heart was no longer pounding against his rib-cage. He looked down. Through a gap between two rotting planks, he could see rusted spikes jutting out of the algae below. He also caught sight of an odd ripple on the surface near a patch of lily pads.

“Oh my, that was close,” the girl said. She, too, was staring down at the spikes. She looked up at Terry, wide-eyed. She grinned, her face flushed with excitement. “We nearly died!”

“Um, yes,” he said for the sake of saying something. He looked up, and immediately regretted doing so. The bottom of the portcullis suspended in the archway he was passing under had spikes like iron teeth about to chomp down on them.

“What are those holes up there?” She pointed at a series of charred holes in the ceiling, each about a foot in diameter.

“Murder holes,” Terry answered. “If invaders managed to storm the gates, soldiers would pour cauldrons of boiling oil onto them.”

“What a way to go!” She made sure to avoid walking directly under any large holes the rest of the way. So did Terry. Archon Castle was definitely creepy—it felt creepy—and not in a good way like a haunted house theme park, but in a bad way like a car following at a walking pace just a few feet behind.

The girl continued along, testing her weight on each plank before stepping onto it fully. Terry followed right behind her. Being heavier, he had to be even more careful going across. He’s already had one break from under him. He glanced over his shoulder and figured they were halfway along. Several had already given and were heading back up the trail.

Terry was tempted to join them. But this might be his only chance to learn any form of magic, the only place that mysterious online message had said it existed. Real magic was supposed to be scary. In the material that had accompanied his application forms, the first line explicitly stated that this camp was not for the faint of heart. And, according to Uncle Pete, the waivers his parents had had to sign assuring Archon Castle LLC that Terry was in good health, were ironclad.

He edged forward, tensing with each step and then breathing a sigh of relief as the boards held. Rusty chains creaked. The drawbridge shuddered beneath his feet. Behind him, a voice called, “Get a move on!” They were raising the bridge already! Terry leapt along the firmest looking planks until he was safely on solid ground again. Others pressed against him as they were herded into a courtyard. The drawbridge was rising more quickly now. He watched at least two dozen kids clamber back over it with the desperation of last-minute Christmas shoppers. Fighting the urge to follow them, he reminded himself that the more people who chickened out, the fewer he’d have to compete with.

The drawbridge closed with a thud. The ground shook like a small earthquake. He even felt that same queer liquid sensation under his feet that he'd experienced back home in California a few times.

Dreading whatever he’d just gotten himself into, he turned to face the castle. And gasped. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and gawked around in amazement. The surrounding buildings now looked as though they’d been created for a theme park they were in such good condition! The massive rectangular keep stood tall and proud, weathered just enough to assure Terry it was nearly two centuries old. The whitewashed plaster on the rambling Tudor-style buildings to his left gleamed in the noonday sun. The earlier decrepitude must have been an illusion to frighten away the weak-willed. Pride swelled him at the thought he may have passed his first test, though it deflated just as quickly.

“Form a line side by side!” a deep voice barked. A hand gripped Terry’s shoulder, icy through the thick fabric of his t-shirt. The man was an Adept, dressed in a crimson silk robe with gold stars embossed along the hem. A shadow fell over Terry and cool, slippery fabric slid down over his head and arms. He was then jerked around and shoved next to a girl in a light blue robe. The same dark-haired girl who’d been in front of him as they crossed the drawbridge. Terry looked down to see he was now wearing a similar robe.

“Why does it have to be blue?” she mumbled, bunching the fabric in her fists. On her feet she wore a pair of pink and white polka dot flip flops. “Blue is a boy’s colour.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Terry said. “My sister’s favourite colour is a light—”

“QUIET!” the same Adept who’d grabbed his shoulder yelled. “Everyone form a line.”

Terry stood behind the girl. The Adept snatched his shoulders again and made him stand next to her. “A side by side line.”

“Wouldn’t that be a row?” She jerked back as if she’d been slapped across her face, yet the Adept’s hand hadn’t moved anywhere near her. She scowled, rubbed her cheek, and glowered at Terry.

“It wasn’t me.” Terry waited until the Adept was out of earshot. “I think he used his Astral hand on you.” He tried to remember what else he’d read about Astral combat. Everything he’d brushed up on the past few weeks was beginning to blur.

“This place is awfully sexist,” she whispered and Terry nodded. Whenever that word came up he’d been trained from early childhood to nod and say nothing. “I only see ten other girls here. Fifteen at most. Though you did make a good point about blue. Cerulean is a lovely shade. And so is lapis lazuli.”

Already she was getting on his nerves. Hoping she’d take a hint, Terry fixed his gaze at the row of Adepts assembling across from them. They stood at the base of a square stone tower that dwarfed everyone in the courtyard. A portly Master Adept, in a burgundy robe covered in gold and black squiggly marks, stepped forward. He pulled back his hood. He had jowls like a St. Bernard and wisps of white hair sprung from his head in a feathery crown. “Welcome to Wizard Camp,” he said. His voice sounded like a bulldozer with engine trouble. “As you may already be aware, I am Quindalore the Querulous, Learned Master Adept of the Order of Nine.”

An Adept behind Quindalore coughed lightly into his fist. According to Archon Castle’s own website, the Order of Nine was down to seven. The fate of the missing two was unknown. According to a thread on the unofficial Archon Castle forum, one of the Order had ascended into a Being of Pure Light and Energy, while another claimed he’d run off with an underage neophyte. Terry knew what underage implied, but not neophyte, though he assumed it was equally as lurid.

“Presently,” Master Adept Quindalore said, “there are a hundred and six of you joining us today, of which three will be invited to become Initiates. Initiation is the first step on the path to becoming a wizard proper. Sixty-eight of you, so far, turned back at the drawbridge.”

Everyone chuckled uncomfortably like someone had just farted during a funeral speech. Terry glanced around, dismayed. With everyone massed together, he realised how terrible his odds actually were. Roughly two percent. Then again, if everyone was able to grasp the true odds of success in any endeavour, no one would take risks.

Quindalore continued, “During the next two months you will learn basic spell casting, rune reading, dowsing and divining, and, before anyone asks, there will be no handling any wands.”

“Do we get to summon demons?” a voice piped up. A boy around ten or eleven, with a blond pudding bowl haircut, grinned eagerly. The collar of his canary-yellow t-shirt poked from under his blue robe. The boy Chad had been bullying.

“NO!” There wasn’t much force behind Quindalore’s voice, but the volume was deafening.

Terry gulped. He had questions, loads of questions, and decided it would be wiser to let other kids do the asking.

“For the time being you will each be assigned a group number. The Adept in charge of your group will show you to your sleeping quarters. We will meet back here in precisely half an hour for your orienteering session.”

Orienteering session didn’t sound frightening; it was the sort of thing his dad did for a living. But it was the way Quindalore had said it that made the hairs of his arms stand on end.

The poppy-robed Adepts split apart. They each carried an iron cauldron hanging from the crooks of their arms with the ease of an empty picnic basket. Super-human strength would be cool to learn, Terry thought. His parents had bought him a weight set, but he kept forgetting to use them.

The Adepts proceeded to take slips of paper out from their cauldrons, pinning one to each of the blue robes nearest them.

“I wonder how they select us,” the girl next to Terry said. “We’re being assigned different numbers.” She had fine brownish-black hair that went past her shoulders and a nearly perfect profile. He hated when he noticed such things in a girl. Especially ones who got on his nerves.

Leaning close enough for him to smell the strawberry scent of her hair, she rasped, “Matching vibrational energy, do you think? Or maybe they can see auras in broad daylight!”

Terry said nothing. He had no idea what vibrational energy involved and didn’t want her thinking he was stupid. Besides, he doubted there was any deliberate selection process at all. Each adept was speeding through with the efficiency of a factory production line. Once they were done, Terry and the girl looked down, then they looked at each other.

“We’ve been assigned the same number. But it had been different Adepts who had …” She stared off, as if she’d seen the first crack in what she’d always thought was solid ground beneath her feet and was afraid to check if it was widening. Terry didn’t care; he was just happy he’d been assigned a lucky number. Nothing was luckier than seven, surely.

“Number sevens, follow me!” A female adept with close-set eyes signalled to them and marched towards a set of low stone buildings beyond the square tower. A couple of reddish horses with black manes were tied to a post near the side entrance. One of them snorted and stamped its hoof as Terry filed after the other twenty-odd kids into the building. The coolness after the hot noonday sun was refreshing but inside it was damp, dark, and reeked of manure.

They were led past a maze of horse stalls into a large, rectangular room with stone walls and a peaked wood ceiling. Sunlight slanted in through high, small windows, giving the place a subterranean feel. Here the stench of manure wasn't as overpowering, more like a room where people had been smoking cigars the night before and figured opening one window a crack was enough to air the place out. The stink was bearable.

The Adept turned on a switch next to the entrance. Floodlights attached to the wooden beams above flickered as if each of them wanted to keep hitting the snooze button before finally getting up and doing their job of illuminating the room.

“Oh no,” Terry said in a hushed voice as he looked around. Surely their beds weren't going to be ... blankets on top of bales of straw? He already knew he'd be sleeping in far less comfort than he was accustomed to. It wasn’t canopied feather beds he’d been expecting. But he was positive one of the online pictures had showed rows of hammocks, and in another he’d seen cosy little cots similar to ones in his grandfather’s summer cottage. These accommodations were what tourist brochures worldwide described as rustic, looking wonderfully quaint until you got there and discovered half the walls were missing.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Unlike after the drawbridge had closed, nothing changed. All the beds consisted of three bales of straw secured together with thick twine. A pair of scratchy-looking burlap blankets lay folded on top of each one. At the foot of each––he was loath to call them beds––was a slab of rough wood. No pillow, no storage box, and what if it got cold at night?

"No pillows?" the girl next to him whined.

The Adept traced a vaguely figure eight symbol in the air with her index finger.

"ALL RIGHT THEN," her voice boomed, shaking the rafters. She traced something else in the air and more quietly said, "One cot per person. Later this afternoon, leftover apple crates will be arriving for you to store your things in."

The same boy who'd asked about Demon summoning went up to her. "Which one's mine?"

"Any of them—just choose one per person," she said in the same irritated tone of voice his sister would use whenever she was waiting for some boy to call her back. “You neophytes get worse every year, I swear.”

A memory sprung up in Terry’s mind like a jack-in-the-box head popping out of its compartment. Of course, a neophyte was the level below Initiate. There were several other ranks above that. Junior Adept, Adept and Senior Adept followed, then onto more complex, important-sounding titles that rivalled those of a large bank or advertising firm.

“What’s your name?” the same boy asked. The pudding bowl haircut made him immune to non-verbal cues that would terrify other kids, Terry reckoned. With hair like that, he’d probably grown a very thick skin. If the school he went to was anywhere like Rosedale High, he’d need it.

“My friends, my parents, and my mentors, call me Natasha,” the Adept said, her shadow growing into that of a giant behind her. “To you, my little worm, I am Miss Huston. Don’t. Wear. It out.”

He quivered away from her.

Everyone else stood frozen like pieces on a chessboard. Seeing his chance at securing the best spot, Terry dodged around to the bundle of straw in the farthest corner. The rest elbowed their ways towards the remaining corners. Guarding his makeshift bed, Terry watched a fight break out on the opposite side of the room. A wiry boy was trying to push a larger boy off the spot he’d staked out. Terry sat to watch. He quite enjoyed fights, so long as he wasn’t involved in one himself.

The bigger boy held the other one away with his rod-straight arm, his body well out of range of the flailing fists. “Get lost, Mark—I was here first!” He ducked, sending Mark pitching forward. Before Mark could recover his balance another boy lunged at him, scrabbling at his shoulder and trying to get him into a choke-hold. Miss Huston waved her arms and the three of them flew apart from each other like exploding shrapnel.

Miss Huston addressed the quarreling boys. Her smile had a lot of teeth for someone with such a small mouth. “There’s nothing in the rules saying the two of you can’t share a bed. We wizards are very enlightened as far as romantic preferences go.”

“It's yours, cry-baby.” Mark gave the smaller boy a shove, then went to the cot in the remaining corner and pushed that kid out from it. Miss Huston watched, but said nothing.

"Miss," the girl with pink flip-flops said, tugging Miss Huston’s sleeve.

"What is it?" She wheeled around and glared at her as if the girl had just smeared mud on her nice crimson robe.

"Where are the girls supposed to go?"

"Wherever! It says dorms are co-ed right in the brochure! We do not assume gender at Archon Castle. We're very progressive here. At sixteen surely you're old enough to have acquired immunity to boy germs."

The girl swallowed and stared around, her gaze passing Terry without a glimmer of expectation. He wasn’t relieved though; he felt sad for her. Four other girls had chosen spots next to each other on the far side of the room from him, and they glared at her in that way girls glare at anyone who Does Not Belong. Mean girls, like his sister and her friends. The place next to Terry was still empty, so he rose and gestured at the spot he’d staked out. How could he not offer it under the circumstances. "You can stay here if you want. I ... I have a sister so ... I’m already used to …"

She kept her head bowed and went to stand on the far side of the one next to his, meeting his chivalric gesture halfway. He tossed his backpack into the corner and sat again.

"I'll leave you to settle in. We will meet back in the courtyard in twenty-five minutes, where you will be given your very first lesson. In alchemy," Miss Huston said, and left.

Terry’s burning excitement at the sound of the word alchemy was doused by the sight of the girl sitting on the edge of the bed next to his, facing away from him and sobbing. Crying was always more painful to watch when all you could see was their back and shoulders shaking uncontrollably, head turned down.

"I’m Terry. What's your name?" he asked softly. Across from them the other girls were snickering and whispering, hands shielding mouths, eyes wild with malice.

She sniffled. "Katya," she said at last.

"That's a nice name," he said, again for the sake of something to say. There wasn't much a bully could do with a name like that. It didn't rhyme with anything nasty like Terry Fairy or hairy Terry. The worst they could do was Fatya, but she was too slim for that to work as an insult.

She didn't respond, not that he had expected her too. It would be rude to ask her to stop crying, so he turned his attention to spreading the thin blankets out on top the bales. He lay down and bits of straw prodded his neck and ankles. Thankfully the robe’s fabric was thick. In half an hour he’d be learning his first ever magic. Alchemy. He imagined a laboratory full of bubbling beakers and alembics, watching in awe as mysterious steaming substances flowed through networks of glass pipes into copper stills. Alchemy.

#wizard #wizardschool #chosenone #learningmagic #fantasy #fantasy fiction #fantasyfiction #fantasy novel #magical creatures #alchemy #corruption #adventure #male protagonist #underdog #wizards #adepts #schoolofmagic #inverted tropes #books

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redditnosleep · 7 years ago

Text

Man Up

by Pippinacious

When the bookstore at the mall put up its help wanted posters, I jumped at the chance to put in my application. Between being an avid reader who had practically lived amongst the store’s shelves in high school and a broke community college student taking a semester off to save money, it seemed still customer service.

I got used to people coming in and asking for “That popular book, the one made into a movie” and the edgy teens who moved the Bible from the religion section to fiction. Finding half eaten pastries from our cafe hidden in all sorts of creative places that weren't the conveniently placed garbage cans was an everyday activity and gently reminding parents that we weren't babysitters was a frequent thing.

It was far from all bad, though.

A lot of our customers were quiet and pleasant, it was clean (for the most part), management was nice, my co-workers friendly, and I got a tidy little discount on my own purchases. After a few months of employment, I even had some regulars that I was on a first name basis with.

One of them was Eddie.

He was a polite kid, a few years younger than me, maybe sixteen, and he loved fantasy. It wasn't unusual to go down to that section and find a tall, lanky guy all in black kneeling in the middle of the aisle with a book opened in front of him. The first few times I came across him, he'd look up with this guilty expression, like I'd found him doing something wrong, and quickly put the book he'd been reading away and get up to leave.

He was always alone and often had headphones on; I imagined they were blaring one of the bands whose t-shirts he frequently wore, Iron Maiden or Metallica or something hard and heavy like that. At first, he struck me as the intentional outsider type, rebelling against The Man, an embittered youth who thought of himself as a lone wolf who didn't need anyone else.

When I finally spoke to him, though, I found that I'd been very wrong.

I found him in his usual spot one afternoon and, as usual, he started to pack up the minute I came around the corner. Instead of just letting him go, I decided to try reaching out with a smile and pointed to the book he was putting back.

“R.A. Salvatore’s a good author, huh?” I asked while I reorganized the shelf next to him.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and answered with a tight lipped nod.

“I was a big fan of Drizzt when I was in high school,” I said.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I like Wulfgar.”

“He's pretty cool, too.”

We chatted for a bit longer about the series and I was surprised by how he lit up; he had such enthusiasm for the books that it almost made me want to go out and re-read them. We traded names before Eddie had to go and I went back to work, amused at how wrong I'd been about him. Instead of being the angry, closed off guy I'd expected, he was a huge, but shy, geek.

Whenever I saw Eddie after that first conversation, we'd exchange pleasantries and talk about the new releases that had just come in. I wasn't the fantasy buff that I'd once been so sometimes it could be hard to keep up, but Eddie just seemed to like having someone to talk to and he kept me company while I stocked and straightened shelves.

I didn't comment on the fact that he was in almost every afternoon and often stayed until it was just about closing time. I figured he wasn't causing trouble so it wasn't my business.

One afternoon, after I'd just finished helping a nice older lady find her way to the recently popular 50 Shades, my co-worker, Janelle, came up to me.

“Hey, Danielle, you know that kid who follows you around? The goth one?” She asked, like I had more than one.

“Eddie.”

“I guess. He's, like...over in the back corner crying. It's weirding people out. Could you talk to him and get him to leave?”

I told her I'd check on him and hurried to find Eddie, who was sitting against the wall in the farthest corner of the store between the cooking and self-help aisles. When he saw me, he quickly wiped his eyes and sat up a bit.

“Hey,” I said softly. “You ok?”

He shrugged and clenched his jaw to keep any more tears from escaping. I noticed that his hair and clothes looked damp.

“What happened?”

“Just dickheads,” he mumbled.

“Where? Here?”

“School.”

I frowned and crouched down. “Are people bullying you, Eddie?”

He let out a short laugh, sad and cynical. “It's nothing. They were just having fun, right? It was just water balloons.”

“Do you want me to call someone? Your parents or-”

“No,” he said quickly, getting to his feet. “I'm leaving.”

“Wait, if you need to talk-”

“I just need to man up, right? Bye, Danielle.”

He walked away with his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched and my heart broke a little for him. I shouldn't have been surprised he was bullied, but I'd gotten so used to him that his dark appearance didn't even phase me anymore. I doubted the other high schoolers were quite so blind to it.

Eddie stayed on my mind well after I'd finished working. From the defeat in his voice and the way he'd dismissed my concern, I knew this was far from the first brush he'd had with these bullies and that nothing had been done about them. I didn't know if he'd tried to tell anyone and I doubted such a sweet kid would fight back, but I hoped he'd find a way to make them leave him alone. He deserved better.

My dreams that night were filled with screaming. With gunfire. With an image of Eddie in his black clothes, blood upon his hands.

I woke with a start. Sweat trickled down my forehead in chilly little beads and uneasiness slithered in my stomach and it took me a few long moments to tell myself it had just been a dream. A very vivid dream that had left the smell of iron in my nose. I shook it away and flopped over, determined to forget it and get back to sleep.

The water balloon incident seemed to be a turning point for Eddie, and not a good one. He'd started avoiding me, but I still saw him around the store, reading and minding his business as he always had, except now I couldn't help but notice that he sometimes had tears in his clothes or that his belongings looked wet and abused. He trudged about like someone carrying a too-heavy load.

And every night, the same dream. Gunfire in the distance, somewhere in the mall. Screaming. Panicked footsteps stampeding towards exits. Eddie in the entrance to the bookstore with red hands and splatter across his face.

It was hard to tell myself that something I saw so clearly wasn't real and it was even harder not to watch Eddie with a new, heightened sense of caution. Whenever I caught sight of him, I'd find myself unconsciously searching him for the blood that marked him in my dreams.

The only blood I saw was his own, when he came in at his usual time one afternoon with a black eye and one of his nostrils coated in crusty, dried red. He disappeared into the bathroom to clean up, I assumed, and, when he came out, I was waiting.

“Who did that?” I asked sternly and he looked surprised to see me.

“Nobody,” he grumbled, turning away.

“Eddie, if someone is hurting you, you should tell someone.”

“Why? I know what I need to do.”

“What?”

“Man up,” he snorted to try and hide that his voice had cracked just slightly.

He'd said that once before, I remembered. “You need to get help, talk to someone.”

“Only pussies tattle.”

It was obvious he was repeating someone and I felt such a rush of anger towards them for putting that bull in his head. I followed him down the aisles to the fantasy section, where he pointedly tried to ignore me, but I was persistent.

“Eddie, come on. You can talk to me!”

After minutes of not responding, he finally sighed and looked at me. There was anger in his face, sharp and deep, but it was clouded heavily by the sadness I saw there, too.

“It doesn't matter. I just have to get through two more years and then I'm out.”

“But you shouldn't have to put up with this!”

Tears had welled in his eyes and he shrugged. “Nobody cares.”

“I'm sure that's not true; I do. We're friends.”

The phone in his pocket went off loudly and he scrambled to grab it. Before he'd had a chance to get it out, the call dropped and a man I'd not seen before came around the end of the aisle with a scowl.

“I should have known you'd be here looking at this bullshit. I've been waiting in the car,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I started to say at the same time Eddie said, ‘Sorry, Dad.”

Eddie’s dad took a step towards us without so much as a glance towards me. “Are you crying, Edward?”

“No!” Eddie said.

“God, when are you going to man the fuck up, huh? No wonder you get your ass kicked,” he shook his head in obvious disgust. “Get moving, Mom’s got dinner waiting.”

I was in too much shock to say anything as Eddie, head hung low, followed his father out of the store. I wished immediately that I'd said or done something, that I'd stuck up for poor Eddie, but I'd just stood there, gaping like an idiot, and then they were gone.

That night, I had the same dream again. Gunfire, screaming, running, panic, and Eddie. Bloody hands, blood splattered face, coming towards the store. All I could do was watch him get closer, until he was reaching for the handle so that he could pull it open and come inside. His dad’s rough voice, so withering and filled with contempt, rose around us.

“Man the fuck up!”

I shot upright in bed, grasping at my pounding chest and trying to calm my breathing.

“Eddie wouldn't hurt anyone,” I whispered, “he's a good kid.”

I wondered how many people thought the same thing about others right before they lashed out.

Usually by morning I'd managed to shake off most of the unpleasantness of the dream, but that day, it stayed with me, following me like some kind of terrible spectre. I'd never been one to put much stock into dreams, but I'd also never had one that had been so real or that recurred every night.

I went into work for my evening shift feeling shaky, but silly. I just had to get through six hours and then I'd realize how dumb I was being.

It was six o’clock, three hours into my shift when I heard the first loud pop from off in the distance. The screams that followed were exactly the same as they'd been in my dream. The store had gone very still all of the sudden, and all eyes had turned towards the glass front doors that led into the mall.

“Was that a-” someone started to ask, but another series of shots rang out. It was all the answer they needed.

Chaos erupted. People were diving between book shelves, overturning chairs to duck behind, a few even clamored behind the counter with me and a couple coworkers. There was screaming and crying, the occasional plea for others to be quiet, but nothing seemed so loud as the gunshots echoing throughout.

It was all too familiar.

Automatically, without thinking, I turned towards the doors.

There he was, dressed all in black, coming towards us, reaching for the handles with his red hand. There were drops of blood splashed across his face and one trickled down his cheek like a dark tear.

He stood in the doorway for a moment and our eyes met.

“Help me,” Eddie said.

I blinked stupidly.

“Danielle! Please!” He turned and waved a hand behind him, “This way, come on, we'll hide in here! Hurry!”

A man half-carrying a woman came into view behind Eddie. Eddie held the door open with his foot and slipped one of the his arms around the woman's waist. He pressed his other hand, already wet and red, over a bloody wound in her stomach. Together, he and the man dragged the woman into the store.

“There's another out there. I saw him,” Eddie said as he passed the desk. “Can you hold the door, Danielle? I'm going to get him.”

I stammered at him, too terrified to form words.

“When you see me coming back, get the door. Please.”

I saw the same fear in him that I was feeling as he ran back out of the store and into the mall, where the gunfire continued.

I crouched behind the counter, barely able to breathe, shaking, half afraid that I wouldn't be able to move when he came back, if he came back, but I stared at those doors and I waited like a rabbit waits for the wolf to pass. So still, but every inch of me burning with a tense electricity that screamed, “Run!”

Amidst the rush of people desperately trying to escape, a tall, lanky boy dressed all in black dragged a wounded elderly man away from the madness back into the book store.

I made sure I was there to open the door for them.

He would go out twice more when he saw others staggering towards us, in dire need of assistance.

When it sounded like the shooter was getting closer, we huddled together in the fantasy section with a few others and we listened to the rapid POP POP POP coming from just outside our doors.

We got lucky, though. The gunman never made it into the bookstore. With police starting to pour in, he turned his pistol on himself and put a bullet into his brain.

The all clear was given moments later.

I had to help Eddie to his feet; he was trembling and sobbing and staring down at his blood stained hands. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the reality of what we'd been through, what he'd risked, were sinking in.

“I'm sorry,” he kept saying, trying unsuccessfully to stem his tears in shame. “I need to man up. I'm sorry.”

I wanted to tell him that that was stupid. That crying and being afraid didn't make him less of a man. That “manning up” was a stupid, bullshit concept and his dad and his bullies were stupid, bullshit people for making him feel bad for being different, for feeling. I wanted to tell him that he was a hero.

And I would, eventually, but in that moment, all I could do was hug him.

#creepy #horror story #premonition #mass shooting #author: Pippinacious

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shannaraisles · 7 years ago

Text

Seek, And Ye Shall ...

For @owlpocalypse, who requested an epilogue of sorts for Cassandra and Kaaras after the events of Set In Darkness. I hope it lives up to expectations!

9:42 Dragon

"How is he? Will he ..."

"He'll live."

A deep sigh of heartfelt relief. "And ... his arm?"

"Gone. Whatever Solas did, it cauterized and healed the amputation point. He'll wear the scars from the Anchor for the rest of his life, but the magic is gone."

"I see. Is he in pain?"

"Not physically. But you know better than me what this will do to him. Losing an arm is traumatic for anyone, but for a warrior, it could unsettle his mind."

"He is strong. He will endure this."

"He needs you beside him. The Inquisition doesn't exist anymore, not the way we've known it. The Valo-Kas likely won't take a one-armed man back into their ranks. He needs you, Cassandra. He didn't say it aloud, but he's afraid you won't love him anymore, because of this."

"Not ... That is absurd! He is no less a man for this loss!"

"Then you need to tell him that, make him believe it."

A pause. Then ...

"I will never let him think otherwise."

9:43 Dragon

"... fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six ..."

"Papa!"

Kaaras looked up from his one-handed press-ups, a wry grin on his face for the cry of welcome that erupted from the small girl lying on his back. Cullen chuckled as he approached, reaching down to lift Alys off his Qunari friend's back to allow Kaaras to rise without impediment. It had been a full year since the Exalted Council, since the end of the Inquisition, yet those who had formed close bonds in that time had not long been parted from each other. How could they be, when the commander's wife insisted on being the one to assist the First Lady Seeker through the struggles of childbirth?

"Papa, he goes up and down and I go up and down and I don't fall off!" Alys declared happily as she settled on her father's hip, grinning her sweetest grin for Kaaras.

She had long since stopped screaming when she saw him, proof positive that it was elvhen magic - Solas' magic - that unnerved her so. The little girl's first act when the Inquisitor had lost his arm had been to kiss the smooth remains, and clamber up to embrace him where he lay on the bed. Just for that, Kaaras knew he would always be fond of the commander's daughter, chuckling as he rose to his feet with only a little awkwardness.

The big Qunari still had moments when his lack of a left hand caused problems, but he has adjusted remarkably well, throwing himself into training his right hand to wield a bastard sword, rather than a full two-handed blade, working on strengthening his right arm and shoulder to bear the strain, re-learning the almost forgotten skills of sword and shield with the help of his fierce Nevarran wife. Cassandra had been the one to demand that Dagna come up with a means to strap a shield securely onto Kaaras' left arm; had bullied him up and out of bed when it was done, refusing to be ignored. She had single-handedly reminded him that there was more to being a warrior and a good man than having two hands to wield a blade.

No one had been surprised when, six months ago, she had dragged him in front of Divine Victoria and demanded to be married. Leliana's grin had apparently been wide enough to endanger her own nose throughout the ceremony. What had surprised a few people was the summons sent to the Rutherfords on their new farm in Ferelden, with a demand for their company, since Cassandra Adaar was reasonably close to giving birth. No wonder she had been so insistent on the marriage at last, after years of gently putting off making that decision.

"Cassandra would like it known that if you come near her again, she will break your other horn off," Cullen dutifully passed on, flashing a warmer grin at the surprised look on Kaaras' face. "But I am reasonably confident she doesn't mean a word of it. Rory informs me that when women start making threats, it means the birth is not far away."

A vague look of panic crossed Kaaras' expression for a moment. "So ... she's almost there?"

"It would seem so," Cullen assured him, hoisting Alys a little higher on his hip just to make the toddler giggle and clutch at his mantle. "I have orders to make sure you eat something, as well, so ... this way, Inquisitor."

"Not Inquisitor anymore, Cullen," Kaaras reminded him with a flicker of his boyish smile. Pain and care had robbed him of his perpetual look of innocence, but what remained was still youthful beneath his horns. "Just Kaaras."

"Jus' Kaskas," Alys agreed solemnly, opening her arms to the Qunari.

Cullen chuckled, letting his daughter swarm over into Kaaras' grip, and up further, to sit on his shoulders, clinging to the big man's horn and a half to stay in place. "Just Kaaras or not, my wife will punish me if I don't feed the pair of you," he pointed out mildly. "So in we go."

It wasn't what you might call a pleasant meal, being very basic and eaten to the accompaniment of Cassandra giving vent to every thought that came into her mind in the room above, but finally, after a long day of waiting, Kaaras heard the unmistakable sound of newborn lungs giving voice to discontent. Nothing could have kept him from Cassandra's side when Rory finally called down to tell him he was allowed up, pausing very briefly to hug the redhead on his way past as he ducked his head to lurch into the bedroom and fall to his knees beside the bed. His large hand found Cassandra's fingers, raising her knuckles to his lips as he greedily devoured the sight of her. Her smile was weary and wry at his obvious concern, tilting easily into the kiss he offered her lips.

"You should greet your son," she told him as he nuzzled to her, laughing when he cut off what else she tried to say with another kiss.

"Our son doesn't care that you've been wrestling with him all day," Kaaras reminded her. "I do."

"I am not a wilting flower," Cassandra objected, but her husband was having none of it.

"Today, you are," he informed her firmly. "You lie there and wilt, and let me love you without arguing for once, would you?"

"I don't argue all the time," she began, breaking off with another laugh at the expression on his face. "Fine, I will lie here and wilt. Go and greet your son before he starts screaming again."

"Did you give him a name yet?"

"I was under the impression that fathers name their sons," Cassandra said mildly, watching as Kaaras lifted himself onto his feet and rounded the bed to look into the wooden crib.

A robust little person blinked back up at him, no larger than a human child, but possessed of two tiny soft nubs of horn at his brow, and his skin a warm shade of gray. Bald, of course, but that was no guarantee that there wouldn't be hair in the future. Just because Kaaras had never grown hair didn't mean his half-human son wouldn't, and secretly he hoped that hair would be black, like his mother's. He reached down into the crib, careful to wriggle his arm entirely beneath the little body before lifting his son up and into the crook of his one elbow.

"You're sure you want me to name him?" Kaaras asked, settling himself on the edge of the bed as Cassandra peered over at the baby.

She rolled her eyes. "Have you no thoughts for him at all?"

"I have one," he offered defensively. "I'm just not sure you won't hit me for suggesting it."

"I am in no condition to hit you at this moment," she pointed out wryly.

"No, but you might save it up and hit me when I'm least expecting it," he countered, grinning at her as she made a very familiar sound in the back of her throat. "All right, all right ... I'd like to call him Anthony, after your brother."

Cassandra stilled, suspicious wetness suddenly pooling in her eyes as she looked up at her Qunari husband in something close to disbelief. "I ... I had thought you would wish for a name like your own."

Kaaras' boyish smiled softened, the remains of his left arm rising to tuck about her shoulders as best he could. "Why should I pull a name that means nothing from the air, when there is a name that means everything always in your heart, kadan?"

It was so rare to see Cassandra unguarded and deeply moved, yet there it was, all the emotion he had evoked in her with a single request stark on her face as she looked at the infant in his grasp. Her fingers rose, tracing over the soft horns, the little button of a nose, the full lips that smacked hopefully at her touch. A tiny, tender smile lifted her lips as she nodded, forcing herself to form words in answer.

"Anthony," she agreed, her voice rich with longing and hope. "Yes."

Her smile relaxed as Kaaras kissed her temple, inching closer to hold both his wife and son in his arms. It was a scene he'd never thought was possible, yet here it was. Whatever Solas had planned, he would find it a difficult fight. When their agents in Tevinter identified what was going on and how to end it, Kaaras would be there to see his former friend defeated. And he would defeat him. A world with his son in it was a world worth fighting for.

9:45 Dragon

"Seeker ... you sure about this?"

Cassandra raised her head from her son, who was whining as she gently rubbed balm into the crowning nubs of his true horns. Two years old, and the joy of teething was over only to be replaced with the joy of crowning. Anthony was a good boy, generally, but the incessant whining about the ache in his temples was wearing on her last nerve. And yet here she was, agreeing to something that was going to make her home life that much more chaotic.

"I would not have said it if I did not feel sure about it, Bull," she reminded their friend, a former Ben-Hassrath who knew her well enough not to argue. "Besides, where else can they go? The Qun is under attack; if we do not take them, they will either be sent back to a place under siege from all sides, or they will be raised somewhere they will be made an example of for being different, as Kaaras was when he was a child. I will not have that. We have the space and the means."

Iron Bull chuckled, reaching down to tweak the nose of the toddler who was staring up at him in wonder. "And a little experience," he added, crouching down so Anthony could get a good look at this other person who was just like his poppa only bigger and scarier. "You're going to go from one to many in a single afternoon," Bull warned.

Cassandra smiled faintly, shaking her head. "That is not such a bad thing," she said quietly. "A family should be full, yet I cannot give Kaaras that large gathering we both long for. I am a warrior; I am too old to safely bear any more children."

"Still the sexiest thing behind a shield I've ever seen, Seeker," Bull complimented her, rewarded with a rare smile.

"When do you expect to meet up with the Valo-Kas?" she asked abruptly, bending to lift her toddler son up onto her hip.

Bull rose to his feet, thoughtful for a moment. "They've been tracking the elves a few days now," he told her. "Me and the Chargers'll meet them on the Storm Coast, probably in a week. It's time Solas got a little reminder that we're still out here."

Cassandra nodded, meeting the mercenary's single eye with a look that promised weight behind her words. "If you let Kaaras die, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

Iron Bull inclined his head with an easy smile, understanding the threat and promise for what it was. "Noted, ma'am."

9:46 Dragon

The crash of two small bodies slamming into the kitchen table was what caught Kaaras' attention. He looked up from the book he was reading aloud, moving his head with a little difficulty, given that there were two toddlers clinging to his horns, each one astride his shoulders. The twins were locked, horns to horns, ostensibly wrestling with one another, but in actual fact, he thought they were probably stuck. On the floor at his feet, the eldest was busily banging the crap out of a thin piece of sheet iron with the wooden mallet his father had given him. It was one big happy, chaotic scene. And Cassandra was due back any moment.

One year ago, they'd had a simple, calm family life. Then Iron Bull had caught wind of an elven raid on a children's training camp in Par Vollen, of Tamassrans slaughtered and Qunari children stolen away by agents of Fen'Harel. The Valo-Kas had been contacted; Kaaras had gone, with Cassandra's blessing, to help rescue some of those children if they possibly could. The fight had been bloody, but successful, one elf remaining to carry the news back to Solas that the Inquisitor knew what he had allowed to be done and was extremely pissed off about it. It had been something of a surprise when Bull had passed on the message that Cassandra had sent with him - that if there were children in that group who needed a home, she and Kaaras would take them in. Chances were she hadn't been expecting her husband to come home with four of them, but the First Lady Seeker had simply opened her heart to the little gaggle of children, happy to be a mother to more than little Anthony, who reveled in having siblings. After just one year out of the Qun, secure in the affection and protection of parents who could love and discipline with equal warmth, the Adaar brood were certainly a handful.

There was Ataas, now seven years old, who had resisted Cassandra's efforts to mother him for the longest time of them all. Yet she had won him over simply by offering him somewhere quiet to rest himself - Kaaras gave his wife space and quiet to read her guilty pleasures every day, and Ataas had found himself drawn to the gentle quiet that was Cassandra absorbed in whichever book Varric had sent her that month. These days, reading time belonged to Cassandra and Ataas, both of them curled together, reading two separate books, while Kaaras attempted to corral the other four. Next down from Ataas in age were Sokraam and Danel, twin boys rising five, who were decidedly more rough and tumble than the original furniture in the Adaar house could handle. There was absolutely no doubt in Kaaras' mind that they would both be warriors when they grew, both of them so ready to tap into their primal side. It was becoming a regular thing to hear a low roar from one side of the room, and not turn in time to prevent Danel from charging at his twin with his horns lowered. Thankfully Sokraam always saw him coming. Cassandra had given up worrying about injuries; the twins seemed indestructible. The final pair were made up of Anthony, who they knew for certain was three years old, and little Dorea, who was possibly a shy two, and the only girl in their brood. She was attached to Anthony at the hip, the two of them rarely apart, instant friends from the moment they met. Dorea would do anything Anthony suggested; Anthony would drop everything to soothe his new sister if her crowning horns were hurting her, or if she felt left out of the boys' games.

Five children in one house should have seemed a handful, but Kaaras loved it. They didn't see him as missing anything; indeed, they barely seemed aware that he had only one arm to hug them with. He was their walking mountain to scale, their shield to hide behind when strangers came, the grin they referred to if Mama was busy with her armored visitors. Mama had been away for three days this time, settling her affairs with the newly-reinstated Seekers of Truth, and they were all missing her. But the sound of hoofbeats a few minutes ago had not gone unnoticed by Papa, at least. He was content to let the twins wrestle now, knowing that they would forget whatever the disagreement had been the moment Cassandra walked in through the door. Everything stopped when Mama came home, after all.

Setting the book on his lap, he reached up to untangle Anthony from his half-horn, lifting the giggling toddler down onto his knee with a grin. He just barely had time to let go of the small boy before Dorea dropped like a stone from his other shoulder, catching her before her little horns planted themselves into an area of his anatomy he'd rather not have gored, even by small nubs like that. Ataas looked up from his busy attempts to be a blacksmith, grinning at the upside down giggle he got back from his little sister.

Then the door opened, and all hell broke loose.

"MAMA!"

9:65 Dragon

The whiplash of magic cracked across the intervening space, a blazing maelstrom of death meant to envelop the Inquisitor and his ever-faithful Seeker of Truth. They were both aged now, silver in Cassandra's hair, yet both still bore their weapons with strength and pride. They knelt together, tucked behind their shields, praying the distraction was working as they held each other's gaze. They'd had twenty years; far longer than they had thought Solas would allow them, time enough to raise a family and set at least a little of the world to rights again. But now he had sent his people to remove them, at last aware of their remote interference through agents of their own.

Kaaras growled, taking a firmer grip on his sword, feeling the heavy weight of magic blast against the shield strapped to the remains of his left arm. Beside him, Cassandra was tensed. Neither of them were as young as they were; neither had expected to be attacked at their own home. But if this was the end, they would go out together, and watch from the Void as all the powers they called friends fell upon Solas and his cruel plans.

Yet the final blast, the one that would sweep them away into nothingness ... did not come.

Instead, they were suddenly surrounded in a cocoon of silence, the rush and push of magic that enveloped them held back by the familiar sensation of a templar's Dispelling. Footsteps rushed toward them from behind; they heard the twang of arrows leaving bows, the snarl of familiar voices racing to their defense. Kaaras grinned over at his wife, seeing the same wild snarl on her face that told him she knew what he did.

All unexpected, the cavalry had arrived.

They felt the stroking blanket of a magical barrier before they saw those who had brought help, each rising to their feet as suddenly they were no longer two, but seven, facing the elves that had come to end their lives with reinforcements Solas could not have foreseen. For all his wisdom, all his power, he still did not understand the power of family.

Sokraam came into sight first, the armor of the New Templar Order shining in the flicker and flame of magic from Danel's fingers, twin brothers set on different paths yet always bound together, mage and templar, the perfect example of what their disparate orders should have been. Ataas and Anthony, each bearing the two-handed weapons that were their choice, each armored as Seekers of Cassandra's new Order of Truth, flanked their parents in the wake of the twins' advance, bolstering Sokraam's dispelling with Silences of their own, negating the magical advantage of Fen'Harel's elves. And Dorea, the last of them, a junior Red Jenny in her own right, found her place between her parents, her bow singing as she took aim at those attackers who sought to end the influence of the Seeker and the Inquisitor. Seven stood together, horned and armored, the fury in their blood demanding recompense for a cowardly attack on beloved parents who had not raised their weapons in anger for more than a decade.

There were others with them, friends they had gathered in the last twenty years, a small army willing to fight and die to protect Kaaras and Cassandra Adaar. To the left was the flash of gold and red hair that announced the arrival of the Rutherford children, armed and armored and loyal to the last. To the right were the stocky shoulders of Rylen and Evy's son, and the slight form of his elven wife. From behind came the roar of the Chargers. They might be a little later than they had expected to be, but they were here.

Kaaras grinned his wild grin again, raising his sword with a roar, hearing Cassandra spit insults into the teeth of the elves now facing far more than they had bargained for. Death might well be coming for them, but it would not be today. With family all around him - his wife, his children, his friends and their children, too - Kaaras would fight against the forces of Fen'Harel once more, and they would win.

The Dread Wolf would not be taking anyone today.

#owlpocalypse #prompt fic #cassandra pentaghast #kaaras adaar #cassandra x kaaras #epilogue #set in darkness #family

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