#death of the author unfortunately only works if the author in question is no longer profiting off of support or engagement

[imaginmatrix]

Lol h*rry p*tter Twitter is mad at me for saying percy jackson would hate the guy immediately on account of him being a cop (without even knowing he’s a slave owner) and it’s very very funny

especially since a bunch of them are accusing me of never reading the h*p books like babes I read that series like 20 times before finding out joanne koanne roanne was Like That™

[ctrlsht]

Fragment of the Past 02

pairing: patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader genre: thriller & yandere au

summary: You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

chapter summary: after finding out that Jungkook is responsible for his own mother’s death, you decided to terminate him as your patient but Jungkook didn’t agree with that idea and pulled his cards against you.

chapter warnings: fraternity, hazing, blackmailing, ASPD, unstable mental health of mc, disturbing thoughts of JK word count: 8.8K

parts: (1) | (2)

note: this fiction will contain multiple mental disorders and psychology facts. I conducted my own research to avoid spreading misinformation, but there may be aspects I've overlooked, so I am open for any corrections.

As the words tumbled from his lips, confessing the heinous act, his expression transformed into something disturbingly demonic. In that moment, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was no longer the person you knew, or perhaps that was just the chilling façade he was revealing.

“You’re the one who did it.” It wasn’t a question.

“Is that what you believe, Dr. Y/N?” He tilted his head trying to prevent himself from grinning.

“You do know that it’s a grave offense, right?” 

“Is it?” He smirked before he poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue. 

Jungkook is messing around like he just didn’t confess his crime, like it was just a big joke for him.

“Are you aware of the consequences of your actions?”

He didn’t respond and just continued staring at you while he smiled devilishly. You weren’t prepared in this scenario because in your years of your career, you haven’t encountered a situation like this. Guess it will be added to your experience.

After a few moments, he looked at his wrist watch and returned his gaze at you.

“Oh no, we have already exceeded our normal session hours, Doc. We can just continue this for our next meeting, or do you consider my offer to you?” 

“Jungkook, this is a serious matter. We have to talk about it.” You spoke with hardness in your tone. 

“You still have your next patient, doc. Huh Yunjin, right? Diagnosed with persistent depressive disorder. It’s unfortunate that even though she has everything, she still suffers from depression. But I think it's all because of his useless and abusive boyfriend who keeps messing with her mental health. What a shame. Her work may be perfect but for her boyfriend, it was trash.” you were taken aback with his statement. He shook his head as he clicked his tongue.

“How did you know that?” You outburst as you stand up. He also stood up and walked towards the door. “Jungkook, I’m not done talking to you.” At this point, you were still containing yourself from being angry but you just can’t help yourself. 

“I’ll just see you next week, Dr. Y/N.” It’s his last statement before he twists the doorknob and steps out of your office leaving you dumbfounded.

You didn’t expect the outcome of this session and most especially, you don’t know how you will react with the information that he just said. From how he was the culprit of his own mother’s murder to how he knew about Yunjin’s boyfriend because as far as you know, you’re the only one that she trusts regarding her situation with her boyfriend unless he knew Yunjin’s boyfriend personally. 

You’re still at your position when Jungkook leaves you for a long moment until Soyeon knocks on your door informing you of the arrival of your next patient. You don’t know if you can still handle a new session after him but you cannot cancel the session in this late notice. 

“Tell Yunjin to give me a minute before she enters. We’ll start in 10 minutes.” You instructed Soyeon before you composed yourself. You don’t know how to face Yunjin with your condition but you don’t have a choice. You will just see how it goes.

—

You’re standing 5 feet away from an old house on the edge of town, all by itself. It’s surrounded by overgrown grass that hasn’t been cut for probably a year or two and there are no neighbors around. It looks like it was abandoned but you’re sure that there is someone living here. Mr. Jeon, Jungkook’s father should be here. 

You were observing the house for a couple of minutes before you decided to knock on the door and find out if there is someone inside.

“Hello? Is anybody here? Mr. Jeon?” You call out while you’re knocking but no one is answering. You’ve been knocking and calling for a lot of times already but there’s really no one answering. You take a few steps backwards and look at the whole exterior of the house. This is where Jungkook once lived along with his parents and this is where the crime scene happens. 

You take a deep breath before you decide to turn around to leave. Maybe Mr. Jeon isn’t around.

As you take a few steps towards your car, you suddenly hear a door open. You immediately turn around, and from where you are, you see Mr. Jeon standing beside his door with a cigarette in his mouth. You didn't expect him to appear in such shabby attire. Perhaps Jungkook truly despised his father to the extent of letting him live like this.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” You give him a smile and walk towards him. 

“Who are you?” He asked as he inhaled his cigarette. 

“I am Y/F/N, a psychiatrist and I am handling your son, Jungkook.” You introduce yourself and extend your hand to give him a handshake but he only stares at it so you take your hands back.

“What do you mean? Has that bastard become crazy already? Actually, he did lose his mind years ago.”

“No, Mr. Jeon. Your son suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder after the incident that happened to your wife. I am here to ask a few questions about him to help him recover with his disorder, if you don’t mind.”

He looked at you with furrowed brows before he blew smoke from his mouth.

“Post-traumatic what? What kind of bullshit do my son is pulling? What, he had the audacity to be traumatic after he killed his own mother?” 

His father knew. But how come he didn’t ask for his statement? Or did you overlook it?

“Do you believe that your son killed your wife? What are your reasons? Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You didn’t know that you’re already asking multiple questions because of how desperate you want to know the answer. Mr. Jeon only looked at you as his response and after a few moments, he smirked and inhaled from his cigarette. 

“You act more like a detective rather than a psychiatrist, Y/N.” He blew a smoke before he continued. “Come in. Let's discuss your questions inside. It’s already getting cold and you wouldn’t want to catch a cold.”

The house doesn’t seem like a home. It only looks like a place where a person has to stay for them to be sheltered. Inside, vintage furniture fills the rooms, and faded wallpaper lines the walls. In the dimly lit living room, a faded armchair sagged, its upholstery torn and revealing the stuffing beneath. Only a few personal items adorn the space but you haven’t seen any family photo frame. 

Mr. Jeon lets you sit on a single couch, you haven’t touched the upholstery yet you already know that this hasn’t been cleaned in ages. But you didn’t mind because you’re here not to be comfortable. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t offer you anything. It’s only me in here and you show up unannounced so I didn’t  prepare anything.” You immediately shook your head with what he said.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m just here for a few questions. I apologize for showing up unannounced.” 

He lit a new stick of cigarette and blew a smoke before returning his gaze to you. 

“So, what do you want to know?” 

You have a lot of questions that you want to be answered but you have to pick the most important one before you proceed with the others.

“How is Jeon Jungkook as your son?” He didn’t answer right away. He just stares at you as if his answers are in your eyes. Or perhaps, he’s just thinking the right answer to say. 

“Well… Jungkook is a smart kid. He has a passion for photography which I find a waste of time. But look at him now. He managed to build a studio and become successful.” He smiled like a proud father but it only lasted for a second before he was back with his seriousness. “I don’t know how you see him but there is a high possibility that he just built a personality that he wants you to see. You cannot trust him especially with what he says because most of them aren't true.” 

“Can you be more specific with your statement about him? Maybe, give a few examples on how you can justify what you just said.” You slowly grab your phone inside your bag and instantly open the voice record and hit the record button before you return your attention back to him.

“It’s complicated to explain and elaborate because even I cannot understand him. All I know is that he’s a dangerous man.” 

Just like what he said about his son, you should not trust him as well, especially now that he doesn’t even have any evidence to justify his statements. 

“You’ve mentioned that he was the one who killed your wife. Do you have any proof to prove that?” You asked him and he took a deep breath.

“I don’t, but I am positive that he’s the one who did it. I knew my son so well.” 

All his statements don't have concrete evidence and all pure accusations. Maybe that’s why he didn’t raise his accusations to the higher position because it wasn’t supported with anything. But you still ask, anyway.

“Did you try reporting it to the police?” 

"Yes, I did. But did you know they do? They showed a lot of interest in my statement about him and assured me they would stay in touch. But, after the following day, I didn't hear anything from them anymore. They didn't reach out, and when I approached them, they said that the case had been resolved and my statements weren't sufficient to prove anything."

Based on his story, if you’re the investigator of the case, you wouldn’t think much about his report because like what’s happening right now, his claims support nothing. But you knew better because Jungkook already admitted it to you. 

“If Jungkook really did it, what may be the reasons?”

“There are a lot but the major reason is he’s a psychopath.”

That's a serious accusation from a father against his son. However, you must allow him to explain because, no matter what, he knows Jungkook better than you do.

“I admit that me and my wife aren't the perfect parents for him. There are problems that we always argue about, like work problems and we also have a trust issue with one another, and he doesn’t deserve that. We try to separate our problems as husband and wife to him but every time we try to reach him out, it’s like he doesn’t want to be reached out. When he turned high school, that’s when I started to notice the major changes in him. He was always angry and he doesn’t treat us as his parents anymore. We’ve tried to talk to him but it only gets worse.”

He takes a long pause as he remembers everything that he’s talking about. He tapped the ashes into the ashtray and inhaled another smoke before he continued.

“The principal of his school wants to talk to us about our son but the message wasn’t sent to us because he finds a way for us not to know. We only knew when his teacher visited us here and we found out that he’s involved in an illegal fraternity. One of the initiations rites at his fraternity is making the people suffer before they officially become a member. He killed a lot during the initiation rites and he didn't look like he was bothered. He was still a minor at that time so he didn’t go to jail. I was relieved but right now, I wish that he just went to prison.”

His cheeks flushed, and his eyes glistened with the threat of tears. He’s looking away and he took a deep breath without making it obvious. He tossed the cigarette butt on the ashtray beside him and returned his gaze to you. 

“I was patient with him but he’s too much. I let him be, we let him be. But when things get harder, that’s how I realized that he has no hopes. We’ve lost our wealth and he was on the peak of his success. We tried to ask for help but he just threw us out like we weren’t even his parents. And when he killed my wife, I completely disowned him.”

—

You’re back at home after visiting Jungkook’s father and you keep on repeating the recording you had during the conversation. You believe in the story that Mr. Jeon has told you because of two things; first, he doesn’t look like he’s lying while telling his story and second, there are certain things he said that connect to how Jungkook describes him as a father. 

“He’s a horrible person and he doesn’t deserve to be a father to me. I never got to experience the love from a father because the only thing that he gave me is hatred. He always gets drunk and gamble and he cheated with my mom multiple times. I’m not going to be surprised when I find out that I have other siblings from different mothers. He’s the worst person I’ve known.”

Maybe the reason why they lost their wealth is because he’s a gambler. And he and his wife have trust issues because he’s cheating on her. 

“He only wants money from me.”

Mr. Jeon mentioned that he asked for the help of Jungkook after they lost their wealth. 

You have already got the perspective of both sides and Jungkook’s relationship with his parents has a big impact on who he is now. 

You were in the middle of your business when your phone rang, and when you saw the caller’s ID, your heart raced, thudding against your chest. You didn’t move and you just stare at your phone contemplating whether you will answer or not. 

After a moment, the ring stops and when you think that you’re already safe when it rings again. Your hands shake as you pick up your phone and slide the answer button. 

“Good evening Dr. Y/N! How are you?”

Jungkook greet in his usual energetic voice. 

“Jungkook, it’s already late. Do you need anything?” You ask in your low voice, hiding your nervousness.

“I just want to check up on my favorite therapist after I left her last time.” his chuckles erupted at the most unsettling moment.

“You walked out even though we’re not done talking. We can continue our discussion in our next session.”

“You surprised me, Doc. I thought that after our conversation, you'd go straight up to the police, but you did not. Instead, you chose to run to my father.” His words are sinister to your ears. Your heart is beating rapidly as you try to stay composed. The reason why he knew that, you don’t know. You want to ask but there are no words coming out of your mouth.

“Have you eaten your dinner?” he asked after a long pause. 

“I already did.” You lied. 

“But I haven't. You promise me that you’ll come with me for dinner, Dr. Y/N. It’s a perfect time for you to fulfill your promise.”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry but I really can’t. I have a lot of things to do.”

“Tsk Tsk. Your excuse is already overused, Doc. Do you have other excuses?” He laughed once again and continued. “But I won’t force you anymore. I’ll just see you on Tuesday. Goodnight, Dr. Y/N”

—

You were occupied through the following days already, thinking about Jungkook’s case. You’ve been trying to connect the dots by communicating with the people behind this case but unfortunately, no one is useful. You have to do it yourself and the progress was so slow that you’re about to give up. 

You got more important things to do but you left them behind for this and it’s not healthy anymore. You aren't a detective but a psychiatrist. Not a lawyer but a successful book author, therefore, you should stop this madness and go back to your track. 

Tuesday came and you should have a lot of patience to attend to and things to get done with but you cleared your schedule out just for the person who’s not worth your time. 

“Good afternoon, Dr. Y/N. You look so stressed out. What have you been up to lately?” Jungkook said as he entered inside your office. He wasn’t wearing his usual clothes when he visited your clinic for a session, on the contrary, he’s wearing the clothes that you used to see during your photoshoot with him. A casual long sleeve polo paired with tight black pants. 

He doesn’t look like a murderer. He’s very charismatic and no one will know what’s behind his mask. 

“I bought you a salad and orange juice to boost your productivity for today.” He places the paper bag that he’s holding on the top of your office table.

He acted like everything was normal and fine but deep down, you were terrified. 

You let him settle down on the couch in front of you before you spoke.

“Jungkook, we have to talk about everything. This is a very serious matter. I want to understand you as your doctor and choose what’s best for you.” You started before you pressed the record button on your phone and placed it on the top of your table. Jungkook glanced at it but he returned his gaze to you. 

“Are you the one responsible for your mother’s death?” You don’t want to ask it immediately but you’re itching to know the truth. 

He chuckled as he caressed his lips before he crossed his legs.

“I didn’t know that you’re also a detective, Dr. Y/N. Did you also ask that to my father?”

“Jungkook, I’m serious right now. Please, cooperate.” 

You were waiting for his response but it didn’t come. The whole room became deadly silent and Jungkook continued to play with his lips, looking at you with intensity. 

You only have 5 more sessions to go before the psychotherapy treatment will come to an end, but you don’t think that you can attend more sessions with him anymore. 

“I’m not stupid as you think, Y/N.” He finally speaks out, without addressing your title. You only heard him twice calling you without your title, during the photoshoot and now. 

“After I tell my heart-dying story about what happened, you won’t waste any second to go to the police and surrender the recording you had with me.” 

Your eyes widened in alarm as your lips quivered, betraying the anxiety building within. 

“What do you mean?” You try your best not to stutter as your words come out in fragments as your nervousness is disrupted.

“Oh, you know what I mean, Y/N. Don’t play dumb.” He intertwined both of his fingers and wiggle his ankle while his legs were crossed. His stares swivel from you to the phone that’s placed at your table. 

You didn’t move, afraid of what’s going to happen next. He slowly stood up from his seat and took a step near your chest drawer, looking at the different licenses, certificates and achievements that were placed on the top. 

“You become so successful within four years of your career while others take decades of their life to be where you are right now.” He caresses some of the frames standing. You didn’t move, nor say anything, letting him speak. “Are you proud of what you become, Dr. Y/N?” He turned his head towards you and you tried not to show any weakness to him.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You answer with a low voice. 

“If you want to keep that way, then you should keep out of my business.” He smiled so sweetly, like he just didn’t say something to threaten you.

He took a step towards the door and opened it but before he stepped out, you spoke.

“No matter how fast and long you run, the truth will eventually come to you, Jungkook.”

—

"Can you believe how surprised I was when I read your message, inviting me for a drink?" You chuckled at what Taehyung said as he continued to drive to your destination. "It's such a rare occurrence, and I thought I must have read it wrong. But, damn, it's like a once-in-a-blue-moon moment when you're the first one to invite me for a drink!"

“Yeah, congrats to you.” 

Taehyung was right about you inviting him to go out for a drink. You don't usually do that, and most of the time, he's the one who invites you. You're used to being alone and doing things by yourself, so you don't often think of inviting him. But right now, everything is fucking you up, and you can't be alone with your thoughts because you might end up losing your mind.

You didn’t show any signs of your problems to him. You act like everything is fine and you just miss him. You don’t want to make him overthink. Just like you, he also has a lot on his plate.

You ask him to have a drink with you in Itaewon where everyone goes at this hour. It’s friday and it’s a perfect time to chill with someone you’re very familiar with.

The night is lit up with neon streets in different colors, and the sound of laughter and music filled the air. Everyone is having fun as if the city itself was a living as well. There are a lot of pubs and bars beside each other but you chose where it wasn't so rowdy. 

“Will people recognize you?” You ask him as you sip on your beer.

“Nah, and if they do, so what?” He spoke a little loud as the music became louder as well. 

“Do you mind when you’re out and people recognize you, asking to take a pic?” The crowd is getting louder along with the music so you have no choice but to speak louder as well. 

“I don’t mind. I’m cool with it.”

You did talk to him about his life and when the night went deeper, the crowd was becoming wilder as well. People started to recognize Taehyung and ask for a quick photo. You can’t help but smile whenever he interacts with people with so much energy and happiness. This is what he wants ever since high school, for people to recognize him and his music. Music is Taehyung’s language.

After a few moments, Taehyung joins the crowd and dances along with the ocean of people. He asked you to join him several times but you refused, content with your position right now. You just watch him become the center of attention inside the bar you’re in. 

You’re not a fan of parties and nightlife but right now, you embrace the music and the alcohol that’s influencing you right now. 

You were suddenly startled when a subtle but distinct crept up your spine, an unshakable sense that someone's eyes were fixed upon you. You tried to look around to find if someone’s looking at you but you found nothing. You’re about to brush it away when a familiar figure is standing 10 feet away from you. A pair of eyes bore into you, a gaze so penetrating it felt like a laser, igniting a trail of fire across your skin. The music and the crowd faded in the background and your eyes are fixed at the person while your heartbeat increases rapidly. A person blocked his view and when you tried to find him again, he wasn’t there anymore. 

You don’t know if you’re hallucinating or Jeon Jungkook is really around. 

— 

You will terminate Jeon Jungkook as your patient. You have to terminate him. 

You have your reasons for you to terminate him and as far as you see it, they were valid. Since he first stepped into your office, there is something about him that you couldn’t understand. You’ve been brushing off that feeling multiple times already and now, you should have trusted your instincts.

Jeon Jungkook isn’t a victim. He was the one who killed his own mother at their own house. You don’t have a concrete reason why he did it but you’re sure that it’s about their relationship as a son and mother. Based on the two-sided perspective, Jeon Jungkook is capable of killing someone without showing any remorse. 

He pretended to have experienced trauma solely for his own benefit. His condition isn't post-traumatic stress disorder; instead, it's characterized by antisocial personality disorder, which is evident in his absence of empathy, aggressive and criminal conduct, and a background of lying and deception. Similar to those with ASPD, Jungkook possesses charisma, attractiveness, and above-average intelligence.

You can help him. You really can, but you were also affected by his condition. He crossed the boundary between a doctor and patient several times and you couldn’t tolerate that. If you’re going to keep him, there might be worse that can happen not only to him, but to you as well. 

You still have 4 more sessions before the final session comes to an end but you cannot wait for that day to arrive. When Tuesday comes, you must inform him already. So you are sitting at your swivel chair while he’s seated at the black couch in front of you when you finally say it without any hesitation. You want this to be done already.

“We can no longer continue your remaining sessions, Jungkook.” You started without stuttering. You try to stay calm and strengthen your mentality before you continue. “There are several reasons but on the top of all, you’re not improving with your mental state.”

His arms are on the top of the arm-rest while his fingers are intertwined. His legs are crossed as he wiggles his ankle while he’s staring at you with so much intensity like he’s looking at your soul. 

He’s not responding so you continue to your list of reasons why he’s being terminated.

“I also diagnose you incorrectly but I can still refer you to other doctors that can help you start up. I’m really sorry for failing you, Jungkook but it's best if you can see a new doctor to help you with your mental state.”

Of course, that’s not only the reason but you chose not to go further, afraid that you might trigger him. 

After a few moments, he leaned forward, not removing his intense gaze away from you. You know that this won’t be easy but you must proceed with it. 

“Is that really the reason, Dr. Y/N?” He slowly stands up from his seat and takes a step towards your countertop beside the chest drawers. From there, he looked at the instant coffee sachets, coffee grounds and a coffee maker before he took a mug and placed it in front of him. “I would appreciate it if you tell me the real reasons.” 

You didn’t respond immediately as you watched him make a cup of coffee using the mug that you always use. When he’s done, he turns around to face you and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“What’s taking you so long to answer?” He said after he sips his coffee. 

“That. What you’re doing right now is one of the reasons why we cannot proceed with the remaining session.” He wants to play like this? You will give him what he wants. “You cannot touch my things without my permission, Jungkook. Remember, I am your doctor, not a colleague. You should know what the boundary is.” 

“Oh? You will dump me just because I made a cup of coffee without your permission?” He raised his brow, as he smirked with the sarcastic undertone of his statement.

“You’ve been threatening me, multiple times. You’re making it difficult to maintain a professional relationship between the two of us. You know that to yourself, Jungkook. Don’t make me state every reason why because I want to keep my professionalism towards you.” You try to compose your tone but there’s still a hint of irritation. 

He rests his hands on the top of the counter and sip from his coffee.

“Uh huh. But what if I refuse?” 

“You don’t have a choice. That’s my decision and it’s legal.” A mocking smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if you were the punchline of a cruel joke.

He releases another soft chuckle before he gets his phone from his pocket and scrolls down. Your eyes widened in horror as a shiver ran down your spine. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and waves of fear washed over you when he played a voice record coming from his phone.

“I started hiding my painting from Louie but he managed to find out about it and he kept telling me to stop painting again. He said that they were trash and I should just focus on my academics.”

“That’s unfortunate. You don’t deserve that, Yunjin. Your boyfriend kept on messing up your mental state. I’ve been telling you to break up with him.”

“I can’t because I love him—

“Where did you get that?!” You instantly stood from your seat. He looked at his phone and scrolled once again before he played another voice record. 

“He’s been stalking me, doc. He’s just finding the perfect time to kill me.”

“Mr. Park, you have tons of your bodyguards around you. He doesn’t have a chance to—

“Give me that!” Your eyes blazed with fury, as your voice erupted, a thunderous roar that reverberated through the room. You tried to snatch the phone away from him but he was too tall for you to reach. 

“Will you think twice about your decision when I decided to upload your illegal voice recordings with your patients on the internet?” His voice dripped with mockery as he grins. 

“Those are not illegal because I asked for their permission to be recorded.” You respond in your stone voice. He smirked once again before he played another voice record.

“How are you, Jungkook? Did you sleep well last night?”

“I did, doc. I even sleep so early. Thanks to the medicine that you prescribed me because it helps.”

“As far as I remember, you didn’t ask my permission to be recorded.” He smiles mockingly before he puts down the cup of coffee that he’s holding on the countertop.

“I can already see the headline for these voice recordings. Bestselling author and psychiatrist who records their patient without consent. That’s going to be number one on social media and in front of the newspaper.” He returned his phone in his pocket and took the coffee to sip from it. 

“Where did you get that?” You asked as you clench your jaw. 

“It doesn’t matter, Dr. Y/N. What matters most is the backlash you will get when I decide to upload these online. With how you quickly reach the top, that also determines how quickly you will fall down.” He smirks.

Your eyes bore into him with such intensity, a storm of anger raging just beneath the surface. Your anger has reached its boiling point and any moment now, the tears forming on your eyes will flow over your cheek.

“What do you want?” You ask with your teeth. His gaze softens as he pouts. 

“Come on, Doc. Don’t be so upset at me.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Your voice was raising again as your right hand balls into a fist. “You stole my recordings and you are threatening me now!”

“You’re dumping me. I have to do something.” 

You take a step backward without removing your gaze from him. “What do you want?”

“It’s nothing big, Doc. You wouldn’t have a hard time.” His gaze softens before he continues. “I just want to continue our sessions. That’s it.” 

“For what? I didn’t see any progress from you. Your condition might worsen.” You cannot be in this room with him for another session. He’s too much. “I will refer you to another psychotherapist who is much better where you’re going to recover.” 

He shakes his head. “You were wrong. I do make progress, Dr. Y/N, and I would like to completely recover with your help. Besides, there are no ‘much better’ doctors beside you. I want you for me.” 

You didn’t respond and continue to stare at him, hoping to see any sympathy or even a change of mind, but you only see a demonic who’s in the body of a human. 

“Okay. But when the 12 sessions with you are completed, that’s it. Our business will end there.” Jungkook smiled devilishly and took the last sip of the coffee before he nodded.

“That’s all I want, Doc. To complete our session so I can get better and nothing else.” 

—

You can’t believe that Jungkook has something to hold against you. Everything happens so fast and you didn’t know why it had to come to this. You’ve tried to make him speak up on how he got the recordings but he never did, instead, he keeps on blackmailing you about what might happen when he uploads it online. 

“I wonder how your other patients will react when they find out that you recorded their most vulnerable moment. Will you ever get someone to trust you after that?”

You’ve tried to imagine what’s going to happen if he really uploaded it online. You can just simply tell the truth that you record your patient because it helps you to create a better book that will help a thousand people as well. That’s the truth, anyway. You can just accept your mistakes and move on. 

But that’s not the case. Even if you kneel down just for the people to forgive you, that won’t change anything. Your name will be ruined and you might lose your license for violating the patient’s privacy and confidentiality. The worse thing is, everyone will hear the recordings you took and you can be subject to criminal charges. 

Yes, you can blame everything on Jungkook but you know better. He got away from killing his own mother and he can also get away with this. You don’t know how powerful he can be.

You don’t know how to handle this. It’s so heavy that you can’t proceed with your daily routine. From waking up until you go to bed, that’s the only thing that keeps running to your head and it’s getting out of hand. 

You don’t know if Jungkook can be trusted that he won’t upload it online if you continue with the remaining sessions or he will betray you at the end. You cannot hold onto his promises. You have to do something before he completely ruins your reputation. 

“Your clinic became my second home at this point, Doc. It’s so comfortable already that I can practically sleep here.” Jungkook transfers from the single couch to the bigger one and lays down and uses his palms as a pillow. 

“How are we supposed to start with our session when you’re lying down?” You rolled your eyes and dropped the folder that you’re holding to the table. 

“We can still have a conversation even if I’m in this position. It’s not like I’ll be muted if I lay down.” He responded without moving from his position. You rolled your eyes once again before you face your desktop and pretend that you’re busy with something. It’s hard to deal with a patient when you’re irritated with them. 

You glance at him when you hear him laugh. He was laughing while he sat up from laying down. “You look so cute when you’re angry, Dr. Y/N. It’s a rare moment. Or this is really how you feel deep inside when you’re facing your patients.”

“Am I supposed to smile and clap my hands while you’re blackmailing me? You can’t even settle down properly to begin our session.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

“And you’re being sarcastic too! How adorable.” He laughs, matching his grin as he returns to his original seat. He placed his arm on the arm rest before he spread his legs, looking at you with a smirk on his lips. “I just want to push the buttons and see who Dr. Y/F/N really is.”

You sip on your coffee and open the folder once again, trying to relax while staring at the folder. After a few moments, you take a deep breath and return your gaze to the monster in front of you.

“I’ll prescribe you with another medicine, although you can continue to take the medicines you have right now.” You said and listed down the prescription for him. 

“Thanks, Doc. I’ll take note of that. And thank you for accepting me once again. I really appreciate it so much.” He’s back with his sweet voice which you would be glad not to hear again. You’d prefer his demonic voice because you know that it’s his true nature. 

“No problem. As if I have a choice, right?” He chuckled and proceeded with his habit of playing with his lips. 

“Come on, Doc. You’re really helping me to recover. That’s really what I wanted because you’re so good with what you do.” 

“Uh huh.” You said while flipping the pages from the folder. “If that’s what you believe. So, do you want to talk about something that happened recently? What might be the reason why you think that you’re getting better?”

“There are a lot of good things that’s happening to me lately,” which you don’t deserve. “I have new investors for the growth of my business. It’s going to be a corporation. And I’m here, sitting on this couch in front of you.” 

“That’s good for you.” You said, trying not to sound sarcastic. “How do you feel when you tell me who’s really responsible for your mother’s death?” 

“That’s an excellent question, Doc.” He leaned forward before he continued. “I feel relief because I don’t need to fake my traumas, nightmares and anxiety because my mother died. I can finally celebrate it with you.” A twisted grin crept across his lips, eyes sparkled with a sinister delight. 

A shiver ran down your spine, and goosebumps erupted on your arms. But you still manage to take note of his statements. 

“I also plan on bringing my father along with my mother but I’ll save that for later. I’ll let my father live even though his life is useless. His existence only adds pollution to the earth, don’t you think? You’ve met him already.” A wave of nausea washed over you, as your skin turned clammy and cold. You can’t believe that he just told you his plan to kill his father like it was a normal thing he does.

“Jungkook, that is inhumane. You can’t talk about that during our sessions. Our goal here is to get your life back on track, not to plan on killing your father. You know that I can report you, right?” You lowered your voice in a softer way where Jungkook can feel that you’re really concerned with him.

“Come on, Doc. You’re so boring! And I know that you can’t do that because you’re putting your life on a pedestal.” He grins. 

“You said that you wanted to recover so you want these sessions to continue, instead, you’re doing the opposite. You kept on blackmailing me and telling me your desires to kill your father.” 

“You’re the one who said that you didn’t see any progress with me, so maybe, it’s better to talk about other things rather than talking about bullshit that only triggers me to do something worse.” His voice raises and his face remains completely lacking emotion while his gaze is penetrating that it feels as if he’s peering into your soul.

You froze on your seat as your body language reflected the overwhelming impact of what he just said.

“I am a psychiatrist and psychotherapist and my job is to help my patients with their problems and situations and not to tolerate their wrong behavior.” You close the folder that you’re holding and place it back on your table before you continue. “We’re not being productive here, Jungkook. As mentioned earlier, I would be delighted to connect you with one of my highly skilled colleagues who can assist you in making progress.”

He shook his head and he even used his finger movement to indicate that he disagreed. “No. We’re not going to do that.” 

“Why?” You said, almost losing your control.

“Because I want you, Doc. You’re the only one I wanted.”

—

The remaining 3 sessions with him were all the same; very unproductive and a waste of time. He kept on pushing to talk about his desire to kill his father and topics you never want to talk about. He insisted on discussing his desire to harm his father and other topics you'd rather avoid. He continued to blackmail you, leaving you with no choice but to wait until the final session ended. You allowed him to talk about whatever he pleased while you sat there, pretending to listen. You try your best to give him proper therapy but he was the one who kept pushing away the help that you give. It may sound tolerable but god knows how horrible you feel with every word that’s coming out of his mouth.

 “Nowadays, everyone seems so pathetic. I can't grasp why they constantly attempt to alter society, as if our lives are like a movie capable of transforming the entire universe in a single snap. They should learn to deal with it and adapt to what's happening instead of wasting their effort on making changes while acting like hypocrites themselves.”

“Individuals remain consistent throughout their lives. Scientific evidence indicates that our genetic imprints predefine our existence, our personality, and our decisions. If you're born stupid, you'll continue to live with your stupidity, and it will remain until the end of your life.”

During some of your sessions, you can’t help but to argue with him on how he sees things versus how you see them. You tried to let him understand that life is more than just existing. There is something that he hasn’t seen yet, but he was already the one who refuses to change. 

If your life is not in danger because of him, you will risk everything just to help him recover and change his perspective in life. But that’s not your case because you’re trapped in the palm of his hands. 

It's the last Tuesday of the month, marking the arrival of the final session with him. You've been anxious the whole day, eagerly waiting for it to end. The hours have felt agonizingly long, but you remind yourself that it's the last day, and you need to endure it just a little longer.

“Our deal is off. We’ve completed the remaining session.” You remind him before he steps out of your clinic. “Keep your promise, Jungkook.”

“Days are running fast, I didn’t even notice that it’s the last Tuesday of the month.” He smirked and twisted the doorknob. “See you again soon, Dr. Y/N.”

It’s done. You’ve managed to push him away, but you can’t stop thinking that he still has something against you. He promised that after the final session, he’s done with you but you can’t hold onto that because he’s Jeon Jungkook and dealing with him isn't as easy as you think.

And you were right, because one week hasn’t passed and Jeon Jungkook is already inside your office unannounced.

“What are you doing here?” You spoke with the hint of anger in your voice. “Aren’t we finished with our business?” Jungkook maintained a smirk on his lips as he sat on the black couch.

“Why? Can’t I visit my favorite doctor?” He spread his legs, his eyes met yours in a sultry, lingering glance and a playful smile graced his lips. 

“Jungkook, we have no business here. I have tons of things to do, so, if you still have a conscience left, please, leave already." You remove your reading glass and throw it on your table. 

He licked his lips and tilted his head before he responded. “As far as I know, patients can request additional sessions with their therapist, and that’s why I am here. So technically, I still have business with you.” 

You grimaced, deep furrowed formed on your forehead as your anger intensified. A sly smirk of amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow in a mocking arch. “You look upset.” He pouted in a mocking way. “It’s too obvious how you hate that idea, Doc.”

“We had a deal, Jungkook. Stick with our deal.” You said with a clenching jaw.

“Yes, it’s still ongoing. We have to finish our sessions and we’re done.” 

“We are done. We’ve completed your 12 sessions.”

“But I asked for another session and it’s legal. Therefore, our deal is still ongoing.” 

Your hands were shaking  while you breathed heavily as if you’re out of air. You want to stand up from your seat and pounce on him. You want to struggle him until he’s out of breath. You wanted to hurt him so badly for you to calm down but you kept your composure, concealing the simmering anger that threatened to erupt.

“You said that you’ll leave me alone after our deal.” Your words were delivered with restraint. 

“That’s true, but I asked for another session, so our business is not yet done.” He smirked.

“Get out!” You can’t control it anymore. It’s too much. He’s too much.

“Oh. You’re kicking a patient out?” He laughs and he gets something in his pocket. “How would people react if they found out that the psychiatrist and a best-selling author that they are looking up, is kicking a patient out.” He faces his phone for you to see that he’s recording the conversation. 

Your mind raced like a hurricane, breath came in short, shallow gasps as your hands can't stop trembling. 

“Why are you doing this to… me?” Your voice caught up your throat, and choked sobs filled the room as you began to let your tears flow from your eyes.

He stood up from his seat as he slowly took a step towards you, putting both of his hands on the platform of your table, leaning towards you. He looks at your eyes with so much intensity that he can practically read your mind.

“I’ve told you already. I just want to continue our sessions until I recover. Is that too much to ask?” He whispers as he pierce his eyes on you. He lifts up his right arm, slowly wiping the tears from your cheeks using the back of his fingers. “Weakness doesn’t suit you, Y/N. So I suggest that you stop with your tears.”

—

If you can only bring back the time where Atty. Kim Namjoon asked you to take Jeon Jungkook as a patient, you’d immediately refuse. If only you knew what kind of a living hell that you will live when you work with him, you would never wish to see him standing in front of you from the first time.

You know that your life won’t be easy when you enter the industry that you are in right now. Life will put you on a test and see if you will survive. You in fact did, not knowing that you haven't even experienced half of what you're going through now in the hands of Jungkook.

You thought that Jungkook was already at his worst, but little did you know that he could deteriorate even further.

His weekly ‘sessions’ became almost every four days. His supposed 90-minute session stretched into a painful 2 hours, and that went on and on. You don’t know when he’ll stop with his madness.

You tried to convince him to stop, but every time you do it, he will always pull his card against you. It’s too much that you can’t take it any longer. You’re getting tired already and it’s consuming you. You’ve already reached the point where you think that what he’s doing to you right now is much worse than what you’d experience if he were to post the recordings you took in public. 

If he can’t be convinced to stop, then you have to do something that will make him stop. You have to take action because if you let him continue to tie you up, you will no longer escape. 

You put your both hands inside the pocket of the coat that you’re wearing right now. It’s getting colder because winter is just around the corner.

Jongno Police Station

The police station stood tall with a large reflective window that had a sense of transparency and modernity. There are people that passed by and police officers standing outside the glass door with cigarettes in their mouth.

You took a deep breath before you took a step towards the entrance. 

“Hello, may I talk to detective Jung?” You speak to the male receptionist as you enter the station. 

“For what reason?”

“I just have to report something about the case he’s handling. I am Y/F/N and a psychiatrist.” You gave him your ID and when he looked at it, he kept on shifting his gaze to you and to the ID.

“Wait for a while. I’ll call detective Jung.” 

You sit in the waiting area as you wait for the person you’re looking for. The receptionist is on a call and you notice that he keeps on glancing at you while he speaks with detective Jung, as you guess.

When you saw detective Jung approaching you, wearing a denim black jacket with his ID, you stood up to greet him.

“Good afternoon, Detective Jung. I apologize for showing up unannounced but I just have to talk to you about something.” You greet as you extend your hand. 

He shook your hand as he smiled so wide, like a ball of sunshine.

“That’s okay. Come, let's talk inside.”

Detective Jung's office was a place for investigating, featuring a comfy leather chair and a sturdy oak desk in the middle. The walls showed years of hard work with awards, old news articles about big cases, and a bulletin board filled with clues and suspects.

He was the one who handled Jungkook’s case, and he’s with Atty. Kim Namjoon when they bring Jungkook to your clinic, asking for you to take him as a patient. 

A decision you wish you never made. 

“So, what brings you here?” Detective Jung asks you when you already settled down on his leather couches. 

“I’ll go straight to the point, Sir. I’d like to talk about Jeon Jungkook, the one you want me to handle as a patient, do you remember?” Detective Jung smiles before nodding so you continue. “He’s responsible for his mother’s death.”

You explained thoroughly on how it happened and he carefully listened to you. It's the first time you’ve talked to anyone regarding this manner and it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your shoulder. You wanted to burst out when you explained to him about your situation but you strengthened yourself and went further. 

Telling him gave you a sense of relief because you never expect that you’d come to this, reporting him. You know that the situation may escalate when Jungkook finds out that you’ve reported him but you don’t care anymore. What he’s doing to you is worse than the backlash you’ll experience if the recordings went public. There is nothing worse than dealing with him. 

You ask for a restraining order against Jungkook and Detective Jung assures that Jungkook will pay for his crime. 

You wanted to cry. You should’ve reported him a long time ago but you were overtaken by fear. You were scared of what could happen to you when Jungkook decided to carry out his threat but you can’t live your life with fear forever. 

There are several ways that you can do if the recordings go public. Ask for the help of a security specialist, confront your patients regarding the situation and even report Jungkook with what he did. 

You should focus on eliminating Jeon Jungkook in your life now, and deal with the consequences later. 

You’ve strengthened yourself with the situation that can happen. Asking Detective Jung for help gave you strength and encouragement to stand up against Jungkook.

He may be a psychopath but you’re Y/N, and you’re greater than him. 

Or that’s what you thought. 

Your hopes and courage crumble at your feet as Jungkook visits you the same day.

taglist: @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kingofbodyrolls @fangirl-death-rose @looneybleus @softie00 @yoonjinhusbands @ash07128 @kookiesbunny @cinnikoi @yluv-damara-13 @hoseoksluv89 @darkuni63

[yuesya]

“Where is she?”

The injured man stirs faintly and coughs, but does not respond.

Sunday bares his teeth in a vicious snarl, seizing the bastard’s collar in his hands –oh, how he wishes to wring this animal’s neck instead, and he would in a heartbeat if he didn’t still need him to talk. To speak, and reveal his youngest little sister’s location to him.

Halovians are widely adored throughout the universe. Their kind are blessed with beautiful appearances and lovely voices, and many are those who find themselves charmed by such attributes. This knowledge is nothing new.

Slave trafficking is, unfortunately, also nothing new.

… This isn’t Penacony, where the Oak Family’s power stands unshakable. Where protection is extended even to the undesirables of their lineage. But away from the watchful eyes of the other families, this was–!

Sunday shouldn’t have let his guard down.

…

He knows that people talk. He knows about the rumors circulating about his youngest little sister –how she’s nothing like him, or like Robin; how she doesn’t even act Halovian at all. The halos of Halovians allow them to communicate emotions with each other through telepathic means, but no one has ever discerned any emotions emanating from the youngest child at all.

Broken, defective, a shame to her lineage and to her siblings–

Sunday should have ripped out their tongues for daring to say such things, and damn the consequences for such an act. Maybe then, no one would’ve dared to even consider the sacrilegious act of selling one of the family’s children–

“Talk,” Sunday demands, with all the authority that’s been drilled into him from his training. “My patience runs thin. Where is my little sister?”

The slaver has the audacity to laugh. “Ha! You think you can threaten me, little boy? Aside from you, no one will miss a Halovian like that, so you might as well let us make some value out of–”

Sunday punches the man in the face.

It’s uncontrolled, messy rage that guides his actions. Something stings on the back of his knuckles, and Sunday is vaguely aware of blood trickling down his fingertips, but there is something that’s almost euphorically satisfying about the startled cry of pain and flicker of fear that flashes across the slaver’s face.

Sunday raises a fist again.

…

Please let her be alright. Please don’t let it be too late–

By the time that Sunday is finally able to force the slaver’s compliance and rushes to the warehouse on the docks where his youngest little sister was taken, it has already taken far too long for his liking. The smaller strides of a young child are no match for those of grown adults, but it does not stop Sunday from running all the same, praying to Xipe that it’s not too late–

Blood.

Of the multiple warehouses, only one of them has blood seeping out beneath its cracks. Enough to form a veritable lake, and–

Sunday’s mind goes blank, and he immediately throws the door open.

A large hand suddenly reaches out, seizing Sunday by the arms with a death grip. It belongs to a rugged-looking man, who stares at Sunday with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“R… run…”

The man falls, heavy like a mountain. There is a knife embedded in his back –all the way up to the hilt.

Sunday ignores the blood staining his sleeves, and looks into the room.

It… looks less like a warehouse for storage, and more like a slaughterhouse. Blood splatters the walls, covers the ground, and everything is red. Dismembered body parts are littered all over in a mess, like some macabre work of art.

And at the very epicenter of it all, stands his little sister.

… There is another bloody knife in her hands.

Her hair… her blue-white hair is no longer pristine, and neither is the matching dress with Robin that she’d been dressed in this morning. Her clothes are tattered, and she’s drenched in blood just like the rest of her surroundings. There’s no question of what happened here, of what she’d done to keep herself safe.

Yet there’s nothing about her that seems disturbed, or tormented. His little sister looks at him calmly, and… even now, Sunday cannot sense any change in his little sister’s emotions.

But even so, all Sunday can feel is relief.

He instantly crosses the room, uncaring of the blood that he steps through to reach her, and engulfs the girl in a tight hug. The feathery wings behind her ears flutter lightly; the only outward indication of any surprise.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Sunday tells her, glad. “I’m sorry that I’m here so late.”

His youngest little sister does not say anything. But after a beat, she slowly raises a hand, mimicking his motions in a clumsy hug of her own, and Sunday feels a corner of his heart melt.

“… You’re not late,” she finally says.

Sunday tightens his hold on his unknowing little sister.

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.” 

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears. 

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death. 

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.” 

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise. 

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other. 

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it. 

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed. 

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village. 

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus. 

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer. 

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note. 

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you. 

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.” 

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been. 

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain. 

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not. 

“Stop.” 

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner. 

“Stop what?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second. 

Maybe you really were in Hell. 

“I'm going back to my quarters.” 

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't. 

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement. 

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.” 

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected. 

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested. 

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.” 

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did. 

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?” 

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go. 

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. 

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive. 

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.” 

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.” 

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant. 

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior. 

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair. 

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!” 

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own. 

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat. 

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you? 

“I need you to remember.” 

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way. 

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could. 

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.” 

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting. 

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight. 

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.” 

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you. 

“That…what was that?” 

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile. 

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least. 

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells. 

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to. 

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images. 

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand. 

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing. 

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible. 

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled. 

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below. 

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing. 

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge. 

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him. 

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt. 

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing. 

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume. 

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now. 

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult. 

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long. 

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through. 

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you. 

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you. 

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had. 

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of. 

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised. 

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then. 

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex. 

“Tell me what you remember.” 

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown. 

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts. 

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…” 

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you. 

“How…many times have I been here?” 

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer. 

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.” 

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together. 

“And each one is me?” 

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier. 

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?” 

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown. 

“You’ve been taken from me.” 

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you. 

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something. 

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They? 

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could. 

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained. 

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it. 

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for. 

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up. 

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock. 

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him. 

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand. 

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit. 

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it. 

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered. 

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had. 

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control. 

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this. 

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.” 

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer. 

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name. 

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now. 

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat. 

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes. 

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards. 

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?” 

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more. 

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk. 

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.” 

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone. 

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing. 

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you. 

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up. 

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat. 

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself. 

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face. 

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given. 

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth. 

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.” 

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again. 

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you. 

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered. 

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle. 

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions. 

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways. 

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it. 

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts. 

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him. 

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to. 

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything. 

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?” 

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit. 

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation. 

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again. 

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss. 

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock. 

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear. 

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was. 

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think. 

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could. 

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure. 

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek. 

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”  

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation. 

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see. 

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two. 

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk. 

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure. 

“What is this?” 

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him. 

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him. 

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

[translatemunson]

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

chapter two of death defying acts

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cw: MDNI thank you, fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, yes don't kill me but reader has a fling with another aviator won't say who, implied smut.

If surviving Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the Dagger Squad would be required for you to be sent overseas, you were not sure there was gonna be a lot of you left to fit in a plane seat.

In just two days and one quick chat with Maverick, you had to recognize there was no easy task in front of you. Maverick didn’t show any enthusiasm in your work or questions on that quick meeting, which was somewhat discouraging. You had been spending your morning reviewing previous logs of all of the fighter pilots, your afternoons watching them live on radar, taking notes of their data, style and skills, your evenings analyzing all of your notes and coming up with plans for the simulation.

You were in bed way past your normal schedule on Saturday morning. Your belongings would definitely sit on boxes for another week or two if you didn’t do anything regarding it. You had the essentials out — uniforms, underwear, laptop, hygiene products, and a picture of you with your parents —, but that was it. Even your kitchen was getting appliances as you started to need them.

You grabbed a clean change of clothes, your bag and headed out to do groceries and get your mind out of work. There were a lot of things to get done before you were back to base on Monday: firstly you needed some real food in your fridge, including new tea blends and pasta for when you’re too tired to cook anything that takes longer than 20 minutes. Then you had to pick up more pills for your headache. Maybe some flowers for your living room would make the place livable — and also push you to unpack a few boxes with your books and portraits.

Also you had to call your parents and brief them on your first days. Well, maybe that was easier said than done: while you couldn’t share much details about what you were doing, you knew they were ready to pull some interrogation tactics or whatever to get all the intel. Your father was the one helping you with the moving — because he was free in between flight classes —, but your mom was the one texting people to know why now they wanted to transfer you to San Diego.

Once the call sign Maverick was brought to the table, your father did all he could to get you another opening somewhere else. And as soon as you got the bigger picture of why you were being moved to work with Maverick and his team, the puzzle made sense. Even though they were successful on their mission, they had one more challenge ahead, and there was no margin for errors or close calls for this one — you were gonna receive more information about it after the first few weeks.

Maverick and the Dagger Squad were definitely a lot to deal with. Excellent pilots, an amazing sense of a team — maybe almost being killed does this to a group —, but you could see some flaws slipping through the cracks of their personalities. Maverick still hated authority and being told to follow orders. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin — not Bagman, unfortunately — could be a team player only if that benefited him, otherwise his wingman was the first to go down during training. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace was an excellent pilot, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as her WSO was a great combo, but if paired with someone else, it was a hit or miss — you asked to change pairings on Friday morning, just to check if there was margin for new combos. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch and his WSO, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, were also a great combo, but they needed a strong flight leader to shine and succeed. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was a good pilot, but only on good days — and that was something you couldn’t risk on a mission. And Bradshaw was living for his call sign Rooster, even though he had amazing decision making skills, he was always waiting for the last second to make a move. And that, in the field, meant death.

And those were just a few observations you could get from a few hours in front of the radars and live data from their training exercises. 

You went through your shopping list in no time, stopping for headache meds and some flowers just after you got lunch. Back at your one bedroom apartment, you, once again, found an excuse to avoid a Facetime call with your parents, but you made sure to text them some pictures of your progress — and thank your dad for finding a good place for you to stay, a 20 minutes drive from the base, and also in a walking distance of the Golden Hill Park.

Clothes on drawers and hangers, cutlery in the right places, uniforms in the washer, books in the shelves. You were slowly bringing together the sense of home to San Diego. Your last few weeks in Nevada were crazy: you were back from one deployment in the Pacific just to be called for another quick job in Alaska. Thankfully your dad had a few weeks off to go to Nevada and help you pack, driving all your stuff three days before your arrival and saying he would take care of housing. All you had to do was sign a few papers, pack the stuff you could send ahead and get ready for a quick stop up north.

The sun was setting when you realized you were almost done with things. Maybe you should let some for Sunday, so you could also keep your mind off of work. You got up from your bedroom floor, took a long shower and checked your messages.

On Friday, you were able to catch up with Bob over lunch, asking him about his journey after training. You also got close to Phoenix, kinda relieved she was just as nice as you remembered. You got their numbers, they got yours, and that’s how you end up with an invite to join them at a bar called Hard Deck in an hour. If you were gonna be around for at least ten weeks, you might as well do something else besides working.

 So you went through your clothes, searching for a black top, some jeans and a jacket for when it got chiller from the autumn air. Just some casual clothes to share a few beers and a few more stories. Still getting used to San Diego streets and skyline, you drove like you weren’t in no rush to get to the bar, appreciating the change of scenery from the desert to the beachside.

You parked outside the Hard Deck just a few minutes late. For a Saturday evening, the place was pretty packed, and you could see some clients were proud to walk around in their work khakis — something you avoided as much as you could. After all, you were just a few minutes away from the station. Texting Bob back to ask him if they were already there, you didn’t even hit send before you were able to pick your new colleagues amidst the crowd.

Nat was holding a pool cue on the side of her body, explaining something to Mickey and Bob. Hangman and Coyote were trying to impress some ladies on the darts board — and you were very sorry for those two poor souls, if they knew everything you’ve been hearing while on duty. You stopped by the bar, getting yourself some bar soda and starting a tab.

“You’re sure I can’t fix you anything else?” The lady behind the bar asked you.

“I’m good for now.” And then you turned to your colleagues and thought better, “Do you happen to remember what they’re getting?” You pointed to them.

“Sure thing, they’re just having beers. Are you friends with the Daggers?”

“Not exactly,” you watched her grab six bottles, serve some ice in the bucket and hand it to you. “I was relocated here to work with them. I know Bob and Phoenix from previous training, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you’re part of Maverick’s team?” She definitely knew them, not just because they would be spending their down time on Hard Deck.

“I’m part of the Intelligence Team working with them.” It didn’t get easier every time you talked about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Penny, honey. Well, let me know once you decide to try something else.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

You took the drinks with you to the high top table just on the side of their pool table. Your upbeat spirit died down as soon as you realized Bradshaw was there. After being lectured about Maverick and Goose, Bradley’s father, you weren’t looking forward to tolerating him outside of work. His short temper and slow decision making was something that got on your nerves easily. But you should’ve expected this, since he’s a long time friend with Nat.

“Look who’s out of that desk, guys.” And unfortunately, Hangman was the one to announce your presence. “I thought you were the type to wear your uniform everywhere since you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hyde.”

“Unlike you, Seresin, I have a life and personality outside of base.” You pointed to his khakis. “And don’t worry, I’m not writing down your lack of hobbies, outside women and pissing others off of course. I could already tell that based on your flight maneuvers.”

“Looking forward to reading the file you’re writing about me.” He reached for a beer, and you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, honey.”

“I’ll be surprised if you can actually read,” you bit back. “But I’m not here to work. And these beers are a peace offering. I’m not the enemy.”

“So you just like to point out our weaknesses for fun.” Mickey approached you, but you could tell it was more of a lighthearted comment than a critique. “Thanks, Hyde.”

“Thank me next week when you ace the mission simulation.”

You passed them their beers. There was only one left, but since Bradley was more concerned with his pool game than a beer, you moved the bucket aside and turned to Bob, asking “Is this every Navy favorite place to go?”

“Kinda. It’s close to base, and the service is nice and fairly priced.” Bob looked at his water. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived this week. My father helped me move, but I had zero time to wander around.” But who’s fault was that? Definitely yours. “They are a tough crowd, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, they eventually warm up to strangers,” he explained. “We’re still fresh from last mission, and fresh blood always disturbs a little of a group’s balance.”

“I guess I would know that if I worked closely with fighter pilots,” you confessed. “Most of my missions consist of assisting with data and probabilities when tracing plans and assessing risks. Sometimes I don’t even know who is receiving my reports.”

“But you’ve been training with pilots, right?”

“No real missions, just simulations, mostly with graduates from Top Gun back in Fallon.” This job could be the perfect blend of what you’re good at and your passion, but even though you had extensive training with Air missions, you were stuck with assessing risks for admirals and captains to take charge. “It’s my first real chance to be on a mission where I’m able to build a relationship with the people I’m working with, not just being briefed on the mission and its goals.”

“I see. Yeah, I believe you’re gonna do a great job, not just because I know you, but because there’s still room for improvement and you’re gonna be the key for it.” Bob tried to cheer you up, and even though you wanted to believe his words, the first few days were tough on you.

“Thanks, Bob. But I’ve meant it when I said I’m not here to work,” you laughed, leaving the pressure of your relocation for another time.

“So you better start sharpening your pool skills, Hyde.” Natasha passed you her pool cue and smiled. “Do you even play it?”

“Who do you think I am, Phoenix?” You gasped, as if her words were the biggest betrayal you ever faced. “It’s been a minute since I last played, tho.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to be good at everything you do, you know.” She joked. “Ok, cutthroat rules. You, me and Rooster.” 

She reseted the table as she explained how it was going to work: she was protecting balls 1 to 5, you were in charge with 6 to 10, Rooster had 11 to 15 to himself. The goal was to pocket any opponent's balls while protecting yours. If a foul occurred, the other players had the right to place a ball back at the table.

Natasha breaks, and one of hers was pocketed right away. On her shot, she aimed for the 7-ball, but it lacked strength to send your ball to the pocket. You took a look at the table, spotting a chance to pocket the 12-ball. You walked to the other side, passing just inches away from Bradshaw, and sending his ball to the pocket. He looked unimpressed when you checked for his reaction. You tried to get one of Nat ball’s, but you picked the wrong angle.

Bradshaw fixed his sunglasses on the neck of shirt, assessed the table and went for the 8-ball. Everyone was tied on losses. He sent the 1 straight to the pocket. His third shot scratched the 6-ball and moved it to a dangerous spot, and you held your breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side,” Natasha aimed for the 15-ball and sent it straight to the corner pocket. But it was still a risky position for your 6-ball, and you watched when she pocketed that one as well. “I mean, I took one of his first, which makes us even, right?”

“That’s not what I’ve learned on Math 101, but ok.” You shook your head. “What are you gonna do next?”

“I’m gonna,” she elongated her words, “maybe this one,” she pointed to the 5-ball, “or a small challenge with the 14.” She positioned herself, and missed the latter for a lot. “Your shot, Hyde.”

You sent the 14-ball straight into the pocket, then missed your shot. Bradley took the 3-ball out, followed by the 10, and missed the 7. Nat got the 9-ball, then missed. You tunnel vision on the 13, in the middle of the table, with a huge chance of error. The white ball hit all the wrong corners and you miss it. And it got the white one on the perfect spot to send your last ball to the pocket.

“It was nice playing with you, fellas.” You turned over your cue and crossed your arms, destiny sealed since Bradshaw was a way better player than you. You watched the 7-ball disappear inside the pocket. 

“Wait, Hyde, someone could get a foul, and you can come back,” Nat tried to pull you back to the table.

“I’m good with my loss, don’t worry. I’m not leaving, just wanna get something from the bar.” You took the now empty bucket — did Bradshaw get his beer or someone stole it? — to the bar and returned it to Penny.

“How is it going?” She smiled and motioned her head to the group.

“Could be worse. Can I have a tequila shot?”

“Sure, honey.” Penny checked something under the bar. “Is house tequila ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you get me one water and two more beers as well?”

“Coming right up.”

You took your phone of your pocket, and checked your messages: you were setting the family group chat aside for tomorrow morning; Lisa, your roommate from Fallon, was sharing updates on the gossip you were missing — not even three days and they didn’t failed to surprise you — while in San Diego; Ashton, still unaware of your transference, was asking if you were free. Yeah, things would never change.

“Here.” She laid your order on the counter. “I know you’re an Officer, but do you happen to have a call sign?”

“It’s more common to hear people calling me by it than my own name,” you shared, and she laughed. “It’s Hyde, a character from a gothic novel.”

“Oh, I believe I’ve read this book in high school.” She pressed her lips together and stared at you, like she was trying to put the pieces together. “Do you need some lime and salt for the shot?”

“No, not really.” Maybe not a smart idea since you’re driving, but that was the Hyde in you: nice face, good manners, but short tempered and always down to some trouble. “Thanks, Penny.”

You balanced your shot and the water in one hand, held the two beers in the other and moved carefully between the crowd to your friends. Back to the pool table, you watched Rooster send Nat’s last ball to the pocket.

“Oh no! And I thought you were each other's lucky charm,” you pointed out between her and Bob. You sat by her WSO’s side and passed him a water. “Or do you want a beer?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” he offered you some nuts, and you gladly took a few.

“Here, a consolation prize for you.” You slid a beer for Nat as soon as she joined the table. You looked over her shoulder, seeing Bradshaw walking to the piano. “Is he always like that?”

You looked over your shoulder to Bradshaw. He carried a lot of resemblances to his parents — you could tell after hours looking through your parents’ photos, and seeing Goose and Carole in a few, with a kid Bradley closer. This was way before you were transferred to San Diego or decided to join the Navy.

You thought Bradshaw was just like you, until your father told you what happened to him. Father died after a failed ejection, his mom died of cancer, Maverick pulled his papers and set him back. You felt sorry about it, but if he was raised by Pete Mitchell after all of that, you were expecting to meet the younger version of the captain.

“Give him some time, Rooster is not much of a fan of changes,” she explained.

“As long as this doesn’t interfere with my job, I’m ok with not being friends with everyone.” You drank the tequila shot without making an ugly face, and quickly moved to your beer.

“Do you happen to know anything about our next mission?” Nat asked.

“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you,” you shook your shoulders. “I know about the uranium mission though, which was pretty dangerous. I would’ve done a thing or two differently.”

“What exactly?”

“I mean, they could’ve timed the missiles to hit a few SAMs as you were leaving the valley, and make your way out of there smoother.” They were already flying a dangerous zone on less powerful planes, and exposed the hell of their jets, so not having at least a few bombs to help out was a little dumb.

“You’re kinda right,” Bob threw another nut inside his mouth. “Do you think they considered it?”

“Nah, I bet 20 bucks Admiral Simpson was looking for an opportunity to get rid of Maverick.” You took a sip of your beer.

“That’s cruel. But hey, if you have the chance to make our mission less dangerous, you have my approval.” Nat smiled.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, have you always been part of Intelligence?”

You and Bob shared a look. “No, I joined the Navy after graduating from college. My parents are from the Navy, and they gave me the chance to choose. So education, then enlisting. My records say I graduated from Flight School because I completed the training successfully, but I got in an accident during the last week. Then, because of my college degree, they gave me a spot as part of the Intelligence, and I liked it there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your accident. I bet you miss being in the sky sometimes.”

“Thanks, Nat. My dad is a flight instructor nowadays, and everytime we’re in the same base, he finds a way to let me fly for a few minutes.”

“So you’ve been keeping your flight skills in check? Why don’t you apply to Top Gun?” Bob inquired.

“I really don’t see myself doing what you guys do on a daily basis,” another sip, waiting for them to be convinced. You were way past that Top Gun chance now, anyway.

“A pretty thing like you fits better as a Top Gun pilot's wife,” Hangman came up to the table, a beer in hand.

“I rather crawl naked over hot tarmac than date an aviator, Bagman.” Maybe if the aviator wasn’t part of your team, but just maybe. “You guys are just trouble. Can’t keep your missiles in your pants, and flee as soon as possible.”

“You’re funny, Hyde,” he pointed his beer’s neck at you.

“Don’t let it fool you, Hangman, they don’t call her Hyde for nothing,” Bob warned him.

“Don’t have a lot of Jekyll going on, hun?”

“Oh god, you’re insufferable,” Nat exited the table as fast as she could.

“No wonder those girls left you hanging on the darts,” it was kinda undeniable that there was some tension in the air.

“If you’d excuse me, I think it’s the perfect time to call my girlfriend.” And Bobby was smart to take his cue to leave you two alone. He motioned to his phone, and you noticed the picture on the wallpaper: the WSO with his arms around a beautiful girl. But she didn’t look like anyone you’ve seen around at base so far.

“Needs babysitting, Bob?” Hangman teased.

“Should I remind you who fell for the feral koalas story, Seresin?” Bob biting back? That was a first for you.

You looked between the two men, intrigued.

“Go talk about pandas or whatever, Floyd.” Jake waved his hand.

“See you later, Hyde.” Bob walks to the external deck, phone in his ear.

“What did he mean with feral koalas?” You inquired.

“His lady is Australian, and one time she told us about how koalas got a disease and were attacking people, and she sounded very scared.”

“And you believed it?”

“I mean, there was a lady in distress!”

“Jeez, we should legally change your call sign to Himbo.”

“Him-what?”

You laughed and stared at Jake, “I’m dead serious about not dating aviators, tho.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

One thing led to another. Coyote left the bar with a girl on his side, Hangman was left without a ride. You offered to drive him there, since it was on your way home, but you were none the wiser after a tough week and a few tequila shots.

When the sun started to peak over the waves, you were far away from Jake’s bed and still very much sure of your promise. You were in San Diego with one goal and one goal only: earn that promotion. And nothing or anyone was stepping into your way.

a/n: hello aviators! first of all, thank you SO MUCH for the support on the first chapter. yes, i wrote what i wrote and i don't regret it (hyde hooking up with hangman, but it was mostly implied so don't worry, it's almost like it didn't happened haha). also even tho we know who the daggers are, hyde is still getting to know them, i couldn't pass on a hard deck introduction scene (top gun: maverick movie style!). well, let me know what you guys think about this chapter, don't forget to reblog, vote and comment! see ya soon!

[surrealitea]

Trigger warnings: fem! reader, pm! dazai, angst, blood, death, guns, alcohol, angry at waitress (abusing staff is never okay), dazai-typical suicide comments, please comment if I'm missing anything

Belladonna: silence

Word count: 3.8k

Author notes: This have been in my drafts since late November and I wanted to get it out before I turned 19 (that didn't exactly happen), so here's a birthday gift from me to you. I also apologise because all my other Dazai drafts are also angst.

The rain started to pick up but neither of the two teens bothered to pull out an umbrella, not that they had one, or take cover beneath the restaurant awnings. They welcomed the light shower which soaked their clothing and prevented the blood that coated it from permanently staining the garments. Trailing behind the bandaged young man, who skilfully avoided the lit streetlights which would reveal the darkened red patches to an innocent passer-by, was a young girl of the same age in equally dark clothing.

“Have you ever considered leaving the Port Mafia?”

The question made the boy’s artful steps pause as he turned to his companion.

“Why? Do you plan on leaving me, Belladonna?” he teasingly replied with that classic ambiguous smile that never got close to reaching his eyes.

The girl paused, lips parted slightly as if to say something but shut just as quickly. She stood there facing him, however her eyes never met his unbandaged one, instead staying fixated on the straightness of his nose and pointiness of his jaw. After a moment of pause, the answer followed.

“Of course not, I could never leave you… till death do us part.”

The boy’s piercing stare didn’t soften. The answer was hardly satisfying considering the prolonged pause used only by those yet to master the art of lying. He said nothing though, and simply turned back around, relieving the suffocating atmosphere that unnerved the weary office worker unfortunate enough to pass by them in that moment.

The pair continued their walk once more under the starless night sky whose hopeful twinkles were slaughtered by the insomniac-inducing brightness of city-light neon.

The office door closed with a slight click as the person failed in their attempt to enter unnoticed. The man that sat conceitedly in the plush leather chair, which looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, turned his calculative eyes upon his visitor.

“Ah, Dazai, what brings you to my office?”

“Why did you give orders to execute Y/N without consulting me?”

“Come now, you are smart enough to already know why.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Why? Because she is your girlfriend? Surely you aren’t foolish enough to actually fall in love.”

Dazai gave no response, only hardening his glare at the man still seated in the plush throne of an armchair.

“As an executive you should already be aware that such relationships are a weakness not needed in the Port Mafia.”

Silence from Dazai continued to pervade the room as his stare took on a bloodthirsty edge which would have unnerved anyone else.

“Let me handle this, there is no reason for you to involve others when she is my subordinate.”

“No, another executive will be tasked with the mission of eliminating Y/N and you are not to interfere. Should your personal feelings get in the way then I will have no choice but to take disciplinary action against you.”

Knowing he no longer had room to argue with his superior, Dazai reluctantly resigned from the verbal battle. Though he was sure to leave the with the stench of unfinished business, and a clear promise of defiance which certainly wasn’t his brightest idea but not regrettable to the boy.

With the insolent slam of the office door, Mori picked up the phone beside him and dialled a number. It didn’t ring long before a familiar snarly voice answered the call. “Chuuya, could you come to my office?”

The tight dress felt constrictive around the girl who was used to her looser work clothes that provided the freedom of movement needed for her line of work. The boy opposite her, who stayed in his usual attire despite his request to dress up, busied himself with the menu although it was obvious that no words were being comprehended. The girl’s menu, wrapped in an elegant black leather cover characteristic of such a high-end restaurant, stayed in its neat form, untouched.

Without ever having removed his eyes from the cream tinted paper, “Are you not going to order, Belladonna? You’ve been staring into space for the past fifteen minutes.”

She startled out of the daydreams that violently consumed her like a starved beast and shakily grabbed the menu from its resting place only to tear apart the binding with more brutality than necessary. She quickly flicked through the pages while restlessly shuffling, from the overpriced entrees that wouldn’t be more than a mouthful to the extensive wine selection flown in from every famous vineyard in Europe, none of the elegantly printed words registered to her frazzled brain still drowned in its own paranoia heavy enough to block out the world around her.

She was saved seconds into reaching the last page by the waitress that seated them that evening and had already been waved off by Dazai prior for the two guests were then still indecisive. With a practiced upturn of the lips she patiently asked if they were now ready to order.

The boy closed the menu and handed it back to the woman, not once taking his eyes off the fidgety girl across from him, as he recited his order that consisted of the priciest steak and a bottle of vintage wine he definitely wouldn’t enjoy.

When silence followed his response, Dazai asked, “Belladonna, have you made a decision?”

The frazzled girl dared to glimpse at the eyes of her lover which she had until then avoided all evening so far. Dark pools of hollowness which took in everything they saw without giving away anything themselves caught hers and trapped them there inconsiderate of her pleas to look away.

“Belladonna.”

His voice took on a sharper commanding edge this time but still sounded light and teasing to any stranger.

“Uh, I- I’ll have the same, thanks.”

“An excellent choice, ma’am.” With that the waitress left the two teens to their uncomfortable silence.

Dazai’s mouth was moving, and the girl could just barely make out the hot air spilling from his mouth from their close distance. But his words never registered, blurred instead with the dozens of other patrons merrily chattering away till it became incomprehensible white noise. Her eyes drifted longingly to the door a dozen or so paces away and just barely obscured by the oriental plant that didn’t quite suit the establishment’s French aesthetic.

“-re you listening to me? Belladonna? I’m recounting my brush with death here, and you’re spacing out? Do you not care about me anymore?!”

The buzz finally subsided into a medley of words again, and the girl was confronted with the pouty face of her lover           whom she starred confusingly back at with owlish, empty eyes still not quite present.

“… I’m listening, you were talking about-“

She was thankfully saved by the waitress who had returned with the exorbitant wine comfortably blanketed by a bucket of ice and was placed at the edge of the table. She took the already uncorked bottle and poured the bloody liquid into two glasses then elegantly wiped the nozzle on a white cloth, the colour bleeding into the pure shade, before slightly bowing and leaving them to savour the ambrosia.

As Dazai lifted the glass toward his date in preparation of a toast, the last few drops were already sliding down the glass and past rouge painted lips.

“Belladonna, you’re meant to savour such wines. You’re lucky that slug isn’t here to chew you out for such barbarism,” he teased as his own lips kissed the glass only to slightly pucker at the unaccustomed sweet fruitiness not found in his usual choice of poison.

Now drowned in a strained silence once again, and with no attempt made by his partner to break it, Dazai decided to make the first move and asked, “how was your day, Belladonna? I was so busy overseeing a weapons shipment that I never got to visit you.”

“Oh, it was fine, just the usual boring paperwork regarding mission reports and such.”

“Aww! And without me there to entertain you it must have been so boring you were willing to finally join me in the afterlife to escape this oxidising world’s mundanity!”

An empty, sad chuckle left her chewed-up lips at the Dazai-typical comment as she placed the glass down that was already half empty of her second drink.

“No, not yet. There are still things I want to do with my life, places I want to see once I’m finally free.”

The unnoticeable twitch on Dazai’s lips lasted no more than a split second, though whether it was a smile or a frown not even the demon himself could tell. “Free? And what exactly do you mean by that, my Belladonna?”

The poor girl didn’t get out more than a few frantic stutters before they were interrupted by the waitress again who had arrived with two steaming plates of their finest cuts personally cooked by their renowned head chef himself. A look of blissful relief painted the girl’s countenance at the sudden end to a tense interrogation.

Dinner was shrouded in silence as the two quietly ate their meals while the steak was still juicy and tender, and salad still fresh and crispy. Dazai had scoffed his down with a little too much vigour (probably being the first thing he’s eaten today, maybe yesterday too), and with only a few mouthfuls to go finally looked to his partner. She, on the other hand, had barely touched her food, and was currently chewing with about as much enthusiasm as someone forced to eat sand.

“What’s wrong, Belladonna? Is the food not to your liking? You look like the slug whenever we’re forced to work together.”

“Oh, um- it’s a little dry, I guess…” she stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front.

“Really? It looks fine to me. Here, let me try some.”

The girl frantically grabbed the plate and yanked it away from the outstretched hand, the knife fell in the process with a deafening clatter. Two pairs of owlish eyes met, though one had a touch of fear that the demon could definitely discern. Sheepishly, the girl returned the plate back to the table and collected the knife from the floor while avoiding the impassive eyes of her partner.

Another minute of tense silence was thankfully broken by Dazai as he waved down the waitress.

“My dear Belladonna here says the steak is dry. Bring the chef out so he can fix this abomination, I can’t go serving anything but the best to my Belladonna.”

“Oh! Of course, Sir. I’ll bring him here right away, Sir. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” the waitress hysterically apologised with overly exaggerated bows to the two.

“Ah- No! It’s fine, really! The steak isn’t that bad actually, and I wouldn’t want to cause them any more trouble.”

“Belladonna,” Dazai’s strict chastisement shut the girl up. “If it’s not to your liking then say so. You’ve been a mess all evening, it’s getting annoying.”

A muffled sorry escaped bitten lips.

“What are you still doing here? I already gave you an order.”

The waitress, who till now had been watching the two, turned around in a panic to escape the wrath of the demon before her.

“You know what, it’s fine, I’ve lost my appetite. Belladonna, we’re going.” Dazai stood up with a loud clatter and grabbed his partner’s hand to drag her away from the teary-eyed waitress fearing for her employment.

 “Ah! Dazai, wait!”

The boy turned around, only to address the waitress that was too distressed to move. “You can charge our meal to my dog, Chuuya Nakahara, when he visits this weekend,” he proclaimed, before promptly storming out of the fine-dining establishment. The mood, already soured by the earlier commotion, felt even worse now as all the staff were already well aware of the rumours surrounding his reputation.

The cool breeze nipped and chilled the girl’s bones to ice as her jacket was sadly left abandoned on the side of her chair back inside. Her wrist was still being painfully clenched in the vice grip of her partner who clearly had no intention of loosening his hold.

“Hey, um- thank you for tonight. Though, I need to go now, I have an early mission tomorrow and am really tired.”

“I want to take you somewhere,” Dazai interrupted as he stared absently into the distance.

He started walking off into the pitch black yonder, and while his grip slightly lessened it did nothing to ease the hand-shaped bruise forming, nor the tempest of anxiety in her stomach.

The full moon, tinted an eerie blue, illuminated the abandoned warehouse and its surroundings just enough to make out the outline of a young man in a pitch-black coat. Obscured in the shadows was his partner, the young girl of the same age in equally dark clothing. A gentle breeze tickled the two’s hair enough to send a chill down the shadowed body’s spine (or was it the boy’s stare?). 

“Have you ever considered leaving the Port Mafia?”

The question made the girl’s eyes widen as her muscles tensed in trepidation. 

“Of course not, I could never leave you.”

She tried her best to hide behind a smile, but the rueful upturn of her lips easily gave away her secrets to the boy who could read her like a book.

“Then tell me what you were thinking of when you colluded with the Special Division?”

The girl wasn’t stunned by the statement that she had already known was coming, though it certainly didn’t help her prepare for this situation. She  stood in silence, no longer worried about the chilly evening that didn’t bother her anymore, instead more concerned for her trembling soul being consumed by the red-eyed demon.

“Answer me!”

His response lacked the subtle warmth and adoration it once had, to the point she thought all of their history together was just  an unrealistic dream that would never come true. And maybe that was so because…

Now all the fear that had been building up in her stomach and tormenting her mind was finally on full display at the sight of that all-too-familiar tarnished silver barrel. She flinched. Not the subtle jerks she had been giving all night whenever he said her name, but a jolt backwards like she was prepared to flee.

She wanted to throw up. Spill the pricey contents that unsettlingly filled her stomach across the gravel below.

She wanted to run away. Leave her life and everything- the good and the bad- behind to start anew in a foreign country far, far away from the Port Mafia.

That was the plan after all. But what did it matter now? What did it matter now that she was cornered by the man who used to whisper sweet nothings into her ear under sweaty sheets, the man who now forced her to either stare down the imposing loaded barrel waiting to dole out her inevitable fate, or the demonic, unfamiliar, red eye.

She wanted to breakdown and cry. Maybe his non-existent heart would have just enough pity to end her suffering quickly rather than continue this pointless torment. But what was she expecting from the mafia’s greatest torture specialist, the demon prodigy himself? He was probably relishing in her suffering, quietly laughing behind those watery eye mocked her for naively believing their relationship was ever truly real to him.

She wanted to give up. So tired of all these mind games and bloodshed that maybe she knew this was the only true way to release her soul from the bloodstained underworld, from all this worldly suffering she regrets enduring.

The click of the safety being turned off broke the agonizing silence. The muzzle pointed between her eyes at an almost point-blank range that even a blind man couldn’t miss. Most in her situation would be on their knees by now pathetically begging for their lives as they lie through their teeth about some loving family they can’t bear to part with, however she just stood there. Eyes were murky with tears that refused to fall, and a defeated smile graced the lips that he wished to kiss such sorrow off of because they only ever deserved joy.

“I love you, Osamu.”

The sorrowful crow whose beady black eye had silently judged the scene took flight in a frenzy as the gentle thud disturbed it. The dark liquid which miraculously until now had yet to stain the girl’s dark clothing soaked the black cotton a disturbing wet colour till the original shade disappeared in its entirety.

A barely visible stream of smoke rose from the hot muzzle as it rested by the side of the heartbroken lover.

The silence that followed suffocated the midnight air which took on the faintest hint of an irony scent.

“You can come out now, Chuuya, the deed is done.”

The shadow clad figure hesitated but didn’t seem surprised by the address from his partner. Unmistakeable orange locks came into the moon’s view for the first time since arriving at the warehouse as their owner floated down from the cracked window on the second floor.

“I didn’t think you would actually go through with it,” the ginger apprehensively replied.

“Oh come on, Chuuya, we’re partners, you should know me better than anyone, that a demon can’t fall in love.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Dazai never answered Chuuya. Never spat back a teasing comment like usual to raise the ginger’s short temper in hopes of him kicking the bucket from high blood pressure. Dazai never even looked his way.

Instead, his right arm started to lift. The heavy object weighty in his hold, and the slight sizzle to his temple unpleasant, though it didn’t matter when all would be over soon. Nothing mattered anymore now that the heart that once beat for you both had gone silent at his own hands.

He was ready. Always had been for the past eighteen years. All he had to do was pull this trigger and-

“Hey!”

A swift kick to the wrist was all it took for the gun to fall from his grip with a resonant thud.

“Geez! If you were going to take it this badly why’d you kill her at all, you clearly knew I was following you.” The chihuahua’s barking never registered to his ears which still rang with the sound of his yet-again failed attempt.

“Oi, are you even listening to me?!” It was clear by the lightless eye that he was not. Chuuya seriously didn’t understand why he still bothered with this enigma of a man. Even if he was the only one who could read him, Dazai still managed to dumbfound him at times.

Though, looking back on his meeting earlier in the day, he supposed the outcome was inevitable.

“Chuuya,” the mafia don started the second his office door clicked shut, “I have a mission for you.”

“What is it, Boss?”

“I want you to eliminate Y/N. She has been caught leaking important documents to the Special Division in hopes of defecting from the mafia under their protection.”

The words clearly shocked the young man as his mind raced with any possibility that such a statement was untrue. He had met the girl several times while in the company of their mutual, Dazai, and was never once struck with any suspicion of possible disloyalty from her. Afterall, she was (somehow) the Demon Prodigy’s lover, and Chuuya knew that despite his general laziness toward work his partner would never tolerate betrayal to both him and the organisation. But Chuuya also knew better than to question the words of the boss as the former doctor would always, always prioritise the organisation’s security no matter the cost.

“I’ll see to it that it’s done,” was all the ginger could respond with.

“Chuuya… Dazai will try to interfere, you don’t have to stop him, just make sure that the task is completed. Afterall, I’m sure he won’t risk his position over some senseless feelings that need to be purged.”

With that, the young man was dismissed from the office and sent on his way to end the life of his work partner’s cherished lover.

“hehehe hahahaha!”

Chuuya was broken from his thoughts by the deranged laughter in front of him.

“Oh, hat rack, did you honestly think I could ever fall in love? Someone like me isn’t capable of such senseless feelings… no, if they do exist, they should be purged or else I might start seeing a point to living.” His tone was kept light the whole time, even his partner somehow bought it, though deep down he wasn’t entirely fooled by the lack of eye contact and the brunette’s quivering shoulders.

They stood like that for some time, in the silence of midnight which ate up the distant noise of Yokohama’s always bustling nightlife. They ignored the corpse not even five feet from them despite knowing they would have to call the cleaner to dispose of it and the blood which had somehow dried despite its unsettling size, a testament to how long they stood there.

Eventually, the silence and the cold became too much for Chuuya who had started to make his way back to the busy streets and toward home. But he stopped after only a few paces.

Dazai had not moved from his position, not even looked toward his partner, and instead opted to continue staring into the jet-black sea that perfectly reflected the moon’s azure glow.

“Hey… you coming or what?”

All he got was a hollow hum of approval in reply, though it still took Dazai another minute to finally set off. Chuuya never tried to leave without him despite his muffled grumbles of “damn, it’s cold,” and “hurry it up already.”

As they finally set off, Dazai couldn’t help but stop beside the cold body of his once lover. Her skin a ghostly pale- even for a corpse- and a clear icy blue tint to her lips that even his favourite vibrant red lipstick couldn’t disguise. And yet she was still the most beautiful woman to ever grace his sight, and probably ever will in his (hopefully) short, pitiful life.

“Don’t worry, my dear Belladonna. I’ll join you in hell soon.”

And as if it was a careless afterthought, whispered to the winds, the boy didn’t even realise the words escaped his lips.

“I love you.”

Extra (because I really wanted this in but didn't want to ruin the vibe):

“Oh, and I’m not paying for your meal, stupid mackerel, or sharing the rest of this bottle with you after you wasted it.”

“Aww, but as my dog, it’s your duty to serve your master.”

“You- I’ll kill you!”

[dreadark]

Fresh Snow

some drabbles of kim dokja's company during a snow day, before the story of orv starts

-

One could say Kim Dokja was lucky for reaching his apartment before the snowstorm truly picked up. Another could say he was unlucky for the storm happening exactly on the night he meant to go grocery shopping. And the first would argue with the second, saying if he’d just checked the weather forecast a day earlier he wouldn’t even be in this situation, so that couldn’t be called bad luck, only a lack of forethought…

…Damn it, he really was hungry.

It was lucky he had time to eat lunch during work today, and unlucky he had literally nothing left in his fridge or pantry now for dinner. Clear proof that trying to cut himself off from instant noodles was a mistake.

The cold was worse than the hunger, though. Kim Dokja knew this building had terrible insulation, but now he was feeling the lack of it seep into his bones. Wasn’t it some building code violation to let the temperatures indoors drop this low? Of course, having the time or money to do anything about that was out of the question, but he could daydream taking his bastard landlord to court anyway.

For now, he just had to bear it. If the Iron-Blooded Supreme King Yoo Joonghyuk could withstand being plunged into the coldest depths of Poseidon’s ocean, then Completely Average Salaryman Kim Dokja could definitely triumph over a particularly cold Seoul night…!

Before he could cringe himself to death over that thought, a notification popped up on his phone. A new chapter of Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World? tls123 had announced another hiatus earlier this week, which from previous experience would last a couple days longer, so he hadn’t expected an update today. Maybe, they’d come back early just to save him—?

>> lol there ws rly smn like this… s5gir antis r so sad

Unfortunately, it was only a reply to a comment he’d made years ago. Specifically, one on a chapter of SSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor pointing out how obviously “Yoo Joonhyun” was ripping off his Joonghyuk-ie…

The person who replied had probably assumed his account was old enough to have been abandoned, especially with how much backlash his comments had gotten then. So they’d surely be in for a shock if the original commenter shot back with definitive proof of this so-called author’s plagiarism.

…Kim Dokja was twenty-seven now. Having graduated university despite all odds he now “contributed to society” by going through the motions of a meaningless QA job, so he would definitely be considered an adult. Definitely too old to participate in flame wars online. Definitely too mature to start typing up a cool reply (carefully composed, he couldn’t seem like he was letting emotion get to his head) on how much evidence he’d collected to support his point (all saved to a draft on his personal email account, so he could access it wherever) and how they should at least apologize to tls123-nim in place of this pretentious “writer” who still refused to…

And really, ‘s5gir’? With an abbreviation that clunky, no wonder they had to copy someone. Couldn’t even come up with a decent title.

Only after posting the reply did Kim Dokja realize he’d completely forgotten about the cold while typing.

read the rest on ao3 here

[oh-shtars]

Reach for the Stars! AU QnA:

Thank you so much for those of you who sent in asks!! Y’all are the best. 🥹

I’ve decided to compile the asks I received into one post for easier access. So far, this is Part 1. If y’all want Part 2, keep shooting me more questions! 😉

I had to type in some of the questions myself since Tumblr unfortunately only lets me put on 10 screenshots maximum. (I still put them in word-for-word too btw 😂)

But let’s dive into it, shall we?

(⚠️This is going to be a loooooooong read-)

……

@annymation

Yeaaaah, this section is dedicated to you. Couldn’t thank you enough for the support from the very beginning. Love ya, Anny!!! 💖✨

1.) Who are Asha’s parents? What do they mean to her and how have they influenced her life?

Asha’s parents are still known as the same from the canon movie, Tomás and Sakina.

It really bugged me in the film how they mentioned Asha’s father like TWICE, and never brought it up again. That sounds like a very good thing for character building, but nooooooo. They won’t even address it anymore. It’s just there so that Asha wins sympathy points from Magnifico >:/

Anyways, Tomás:

is a philosopher who had a dream to share his ideas with people around him. But he also had a passion to learning the ways of magic, which is why he worked as Oliver’s (the previous king before Mag) apprentice for 2 years in his reign before he passed away. After the king’s passing, Tomás became Magnifico’s assistant. No longer an apprentice since Mag had banned the usage of it other than him and his wife for “Rosas’ greater good.”

Tomás is passionate and holds true to his beliefs. He has a love and curious wonder for the ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’ of the old myth about Wishing Stars. Most of his work is written around them, gathering old info and recordings from old sources that claim the authors have been visited and blessed with the guidance of one. It’s a ‘legendary and once-in-a-lifetime’ chance for a star to ever go down to earth. But because of its rarity, most people don’t really believe the myth is true.

He shared this wonder and love of dreaming to his daughter, Asha. It was her favourite thing to do every now and then each night to sit under the stars, and listen to her father tell her about her favorite bedtime story about these wonderful, celestial and magical beings above them.

When Tomás unfortunately died from their house on fire, that ambition and confidence to become just like her dad someday within Asha, broke. It’s like it had withered away along with him. Ever since the tragedy, Asha closed in on herself and spent her time drawing on her sketchbook and on her own to cope with the loss. Keeping her mind busy by helping her mother carry out chores in the castle as she grew older.

Thus, it’s why she got so estranged with her 7 childhood friends. Asha loved her father and all her memories with him very dearly and it struck hard to have this dream be taken away from her so suddenly.

Tomás’ death is a very sensitive topic for her. Asha’s insecurities to accomplish things for herself stem from the fear of dreaming too big and experience that very same pain again of being disappointed if that dream could never be achieved. But at the same time, it serves as her motivation to help others with their own wishes and help them be happy. Because she, herself, wasn’t able to.

Sakina:

is a little more down-to-earth. She wants Asha to not look up at the sky all the time and actually appreciate what she currently has. She balances out her husband’s influence on their daughter. She’s happy to have Asha be a dreamer like her father, but it’s also important for her to notice just how lucky she is in the moment.

One of Asha’s flaws is that she fails to notice these little precious things since her eyes are always on the prize. She believes that the only way people can ever be truly happy is if their wish is granted. Her strongest trait is love. She cares so much that she barely looks out for herself anymore.

Sakina loves her daughter and is also saddened by her husband’s death. It pains her to see Asha be so distant and be missing that little spark she had as a child. It’s Sakina that constantly encourages her to open up to her old friends more.

Like I said, Sakina is a “in-the-moment” kind of person in contrast to Tomás. She was a seamstress before the tragedy, but ever since then, Sakina barely does this hobby that she used to love doing. She just does it in her free time now, which she barely even has. (She does spend the time making cute clothes for Valentino).

Whenever Asha is concerned on why her mother isn’t pursuing that hobby as much anymore, Sakina reassures her that it’s not so bad. What’s more important right now ‘at the moment’ is do her job as a servant to the king and queen and raise and look after her daughter.

………

2.) Are the 7 teens, or any different interpretation of them, any different in your rewrite? If so, how are they like and what will they serve to the story?

Funny, I actually already answered this same ask like twice now. 😂

I’ll just link the answer I’ve already done here.

……….

3.) How was Asha’s childhood?

It went just as normally as any child would have. Loving parents and a home with a South European exterior and a North African interior design. (I’m pretty sure that’s what it said in Wish’s Art book)

Asha pretty much lived in her family’s home until she’s 10 years old. That’s when tragedy struck, their house burned down, her dad…..you know. And now, Asha and her mother are generously given a place to stay in the castle in exchange for their services. To express their gratitude for the king and queen’s kindness.

Asha was only 8 when Magnifico started his reign as king, so she doesn’t really remember much of what Rosas was like back then. When magic wasn’t forbidden and can be studied by anyone. Back when the easy route didn’t exist and no one gives up their wishes to the king.

But at least she’s now growing up in a time where all wishes are given an equal chance to be granted very easily with no struggle or strife anymore, right?

……

4.) What do you want the moral of your story to be?

Fun fact:

When I was brainstorming how I would go with this rewrite, I went back to Disney’s roots. How did this company’s legacy come to life? Of course, I went back to their first movie: “Snow White and the 7 Dwarves.”

And you know what I found?:

Walt risked everything to let this movie exist. He risked selling his house and going bankrupt because he believed so much that ‘Snow White’ would be a success.

“Omg, this company. Disney. All these amazing movies. Started because one man took a giant leap of faith and never gave up on his wish.”

And I knew I just HAVE to capture this one action that brought the Disney we all grew to love into life. (No. Not the corporate Disney we have now unfortunately-)

Every character in my AU will experience the fear of “what ifs.” What if this doesn’t work? What if I fail? What if it’ll all be for nothing?

But Walt Disney pushed and strived to reach his dream. Even if the odds weren’t pretty. So I wanted the moral of my story to be THIS. To never stop dreaming big.

And now, at least you know why I named my Wish rewrite: ✨ “Reach for the Stars” ✨

………

@apricotchocolate

Awwwwww, THX SO MUCH. 💖 It makes me so happy that people love what I’m trying to create. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve ever felt this committed to creating something grand. It’s kinda scary :,).

And Sueño’s backstory?

Hmmmm, I don’t want to spoil much.

All I’m going to say is he was unfairly captured from the sky at a very young age of only 12. And ever since then, Magnifico exploits and uses the young star’s Wish Magic to grant, collect and store the wishes of Rosas.

Basically, just think of this deleted scene where Mag attempts to pull down a star from the sky. ⬇️

Will Sueño ever run out of Wish magic? No, not really.

The most important part of a star is their magical core. It’s like a human heart. A Wishing Star is born every time two mortals share their FIRST and MUTUAL Act of True Love, whether platonically, familial or romantically. The magic of this act of love shoots upwards to the sky, where a Wishing Star’s core is created and an ordinary ball of burning gas gains consciousness.

This core is what holds them together and it’s what produces more Wish Magic that is used up whenever they grant a wish. Without it, they fade away to dust and basically die.

So as long Sueño’s core is still intact, he’s fine. Sure, it still hurts to have Wish Magic extracted from him but, he’s alive. 🤷

I sure hope Mag doesn’t intend in absorbing it for desperate measures in the end, amirite?

……..

@chillwildwave

I’ll be honest here, I’m no song writer. No experience or not even know what makes a song “perfect” for a scene. As long as the song is a vibe and it makes sense to me, I don’t really pay attention much to the rhythm or beats.

But most likely, I’m going to be keeping some of the canon songs and tweak them a little bit? (Definitely keeping “This Wish” and “At All Costs” but tweaked.)

Or, if the song is too far gone to save it from my story’s context, (like “Welcome to Rosas”), I’ll probably just explain what happens in that scene and pretend there’s a song there.

Or

I could use some pre-existing Disney songs to set up a scene’s vibe but they won’t actually be sung. It’s just to enhance the experience I guess.

……….

@spectator-zee

1.) I do actually! Omg, I even amazed myself on how I even came up with it. 😂

Magnifico’s end is going to be poetic and I already have a design in mind for him post-story. Also, the final battle? Ohohoho- it’s SOMETHING!!

It’s always the middle part of the story that gets me unfortunately 😤.

……..

2.) My favourite character has to be Sueño. I really love how I got creative with his character and make him really stand out from the other Starboys. Where he’s not exactly the naive “Let’s-grant-everyone’s-wishes!!” kind of guy. It’s the opposite.

I’ve also come to become fond on how he slowly opens up to the human world around him after all the paranoia and anxiety he used to have. Character development~ ✨

But I also liked Magnifico’s complexity too.

He’s tragic but it doesn’t excuse what he’s done. He’s incredibly cruel and he’s aware of it. He’s a hopeless romantic when it comes to Amaya. He’s someone sympathetic who didn’t deserve his village getting destroyed. He’s still a jerk and an arsehole who needs to be stopped. He’s someone whose concerns were unfairly ignored in the past. He’s still completely willing to make innocent people suffer underneath him.

Idk, I guess I just like grey characters.

……….

3.) Lol, Magnifico nor Amaya can’t speak sign language. And they’re used to the star’s passive attitude and being too afraid to stand up to them at all.

But the universal sign of ‘Fck you’ isn’t too hard to figure out once Sueño finally had enough of them and grow a backbone. Mag would be caught off-guard and heavily pissed about it, that’s for sure.

………..

@ficsinhistory

Thank you so much for this question, because it really made me think about this for a bit!! (Not saying the previous asks didn’t, but this is just a point that I had a vague idea but didn’t put much detail into it yet.)

When Asha accidentally released the star that Magnifico had been keeping this past decade, the star escapes the castle and tries to return back to the sky. Only to crash back down again due to an enchantment on him that prevents him from leaving Rosas at all. He’s stuck on earth basically until they find and break the artefact holding the spell.

Which is undoubtedly back with King Magnifico-

If he wants to go back home to the sky, he’s going to have to go back to the castle and break this enchantment. Asha wants to help him, but out of concern and love for her kingdom, she needs his help to release a few wishes and grant these poor, dull and zest-less people a chance to experience the joy of their wishes granted without being in the king’s debt.

The star did not like the idea. He is out of the Wishing business for the next million years or so. But he literally has no idea how to sneak back in without attracting attention and without confronting the scary meanie of a king as much as possible. Plus, he doesn’t even know what a “normal human” acts like. Without her help, he could risk getting caught by the king’s magic. Again…

And dammit, how could he say no to that desperate, sad look on this girl’s face-

Fiiiiine. A few wishes granted but that’s it.

I guess ‘trusting Asha’ is more of a ‘he had no other choice’ kind of thing? He does inevitably have to interact with her on the way though. And at first, Star expresses his frustration with this situation with little harmless jokes, pranks, and stalling their journey back by interacting with the cute woodland creatures. Much to Asha’s frustration.

He initially thinks Asha is just like everyone else. She wants something from him. That’s it. He’s sort of distant at first, and he flinches and reacts negatively to any attempt of touching him.

But over the course of the story, Star gets to learn more about who she really is. A loving and empathetic person who just wants what’s best for those around her. She even gave him a new name that meant she doesn’t see him as just merely a star.

Sueño. Someone who’s not just a wishing tool. She really treats him like an actual person. A person with feelings. Slowly, he starts to really trust her and become genuine friends with Asha.

And overtime, become a little smitten of her beauty both inside and out.

I mean, what, who said that-

………

@tumblingdownthefoxden

………..

@kstarsarts

I guess for Asha, she will try to understand as best she could and if it’s something serious, she’ll try to really listen and seek further clarification.

Though, if it’s casual talk and nothing important, she’ll do that introvert thing where they just politely nod and pretend that they definitely heard you because it’s too embarrassing to be saying “Huh???” like 5 times.

Sueño? He’s actually pretty extroverted once he’s out of his shell. So he isn’t shy to really ask for more detail on the subject if he needs to. He’s VERY familiar with the feeling of not being understood often because he, himself, can’t speak. So, he makes sure that he does put an effort to understand the person he’s talking to.

Though, he might accidentally go a little off-track with his questions and suddenly, you’re talking about an entirely different topic.

…………

Wow, this sure was interesting. Don’t you think?

As always, details might change in the future but this is really helpful for me to track down my thoughts on where this passion project is going.

I can’t say enough thank yous for all the asks and all the support!! Love y’all!! :DD 💖💖

Edit: Look at that, we have a Part 2 :)). Thanks Saph!!

[miracleintheandes]

what do you think about Claudio Lucero’s claims (for anyone who doesn’t know because i assume you do ofc Lucero was one of the volunteers that stayed with the survivors on their final night in the fuselage) that the boys stayed in the mountains for so long for money and fame?

very disagreeable man, it’s bonkers to me that such a (formerly) respected and experienced mountaineer would ask questions such as why did they wait so long to start walking and act as if that’s not a question anyone has ever had, as if nando and roberto haven’t addressed it in every single interview they’ve given (while also saying they waited 72 days, does he think it took them a single day?) he apparently threatened them with a gun because they scared the volunteers with their odor and their insistence on inviting them to visit the fuselage. also unrelated but he’s a dictator apologist and had personal contact with Pinochet which says a lot about his character, an unbelievable show of disrespect in my opinion

Yes, unfortunately I'm aware of what that man claimed.

It's a conspiracy theory and should be treated as such.

"Oh yeah let's risk our lives a while longer for shits and giggles"

First of all, for 10 days they waited for a rescue that never came. Nando and Roberto's expedition lasted 10 days. Let's take a look at the remaining 50 days, shall we? (the remaining two days were the actual rescues, December 22nd and 23rd):

After day 10, they were way too weak to try any type of expedition, as they had only just started feeding off human flesh after starving for days. Nando wanted to leave right away and had to be contained by the others based on this very argument.

According to Pedro Algorta, who had previously lived in Chile, summer would start around November 15th. Mind you, there had already been two attempts at an expedition by October 24th, one with Roberto, Numa, Carlitos and Fito and another with Numa, Maspons and Gustavo, the second of which completely destroyed the expeditionaries, who had to sleep out in the open and nearly froze to death. Waiting for warmer conditions was perfectly reasonable.

By the time November 15th came around, Nando, Roberto and Tintín set off towards the east and unexpectedly found the tail of the plane, where the radio batteries were stored: they had to try and make the radio work. That could alert the authorities and spare them a suicidal mission. So Roberto and Roy took a few days trying to fix the radio. Add a couple more days to and from the tail.

On the tail of the plane, they found the waterproof cloth that they used to make a sleeping bag. Without it, any expeditionary risked dying of hypothermia. Add a few more days to sew the sleeping bag.

Meanwhile (more precisely on November 28th), they heard on the radio that new rescue missions were being organized (looking for bodies, not survivors). Roberto, in particular, thought they should wait, for the same reason they tried to fix the radio: they might be rescued without having to risk an expedition.

Numa's death on December 11th finally prompted the final expedition, with the sleeping bag ready to be used.

Could they have left a few days prior? Sure. But overall they left when they had to, plain and simple.

[licially]

Interlude #1

//Hey y'all, I never normally post stuff on here but that is because I've been stressed to death between project works, writer's block and general burnout for the last week. //I managed to push this out but I have been taking a break since then. This goes out to @blogplutocrat, and my second real attempt at angst with a theme? I'm not sure what to make of it but I will keep practicing.

It hasn’t been unusually quiet within the household, yet today stands a contradiction. The busy streets outside of the complex proved a superstition, but the quietness that surrounded the place made it all the more mysterious what this superstition was supposed to be. The tenants of the apartment that was decrepit enough to house those financially unfortunate enough were silent. Not a slight footstep, not a shuffle and not a word from the walls. The hallways replied to the silence with the same, until a door creaked open from the bottom floor. The disruption of what seemed a peaceful silence reverberated back to the person, who gave a deep sigh as they shut the door slightly behind them. They didn’t seem to mind it, as if they were also basked in it. Slowly, they trailed towards the staircase that stood towards the side without longer hesitation. The climb was made difficult with the heels that they wore, and the reach to the second floor was relieved by the contact of the floor.

The footsteps did stop, merely for a moment as they caught up on their breath under what window of time and place they had. Their hair, a low cut that didn’t expand past their head, swirled the air surrounding them. It also partially revealed a dress that they wore, as she sighed one more time. Through the vague lighting that sporadically bounced through the hallways and emptiness of the rooms, she waltzed through the darkness. It was eerie, not only because of the lack of life but what was present didn’t want to make itself known. She kept at it, her steps brought more authority and rule over a place that was chaos crossed with introspection. 

Quiet thoughts also lingered as she filtered the insanity within: What place is this, and why does it feel like an infinity unexplained? Where was she going, and where is the room she was looking for? How did she end up here, and not back at the apartment that she previously entered? She pondered, as she stopped to catch her breath and what little sanity she had left. Her questions still stood untested, and she still kept going at both. The questions only brought answers, and more questions that arose. She was distressed, under stress and everything she did was under duress.

Eventually, she found the number of the room that belonged to both her and her significant other. The door, engraved with a golden plaque that read out the number ‘4514’, which is also supported by the glow that emanated from the borders. She swiped at the door handle, and out she went towards her apartment, in the sunlight that brought color back to the empty void that was outside.

The entrance was short and narrow, with the walkway immediately going towards the living area that served both as a dining place and a kitchen place. The space expanded to a singular window, sat towards the streets below and faced a multitude of buildings across a tiny section of St. Louis’ metropolitan area. Towards the left, a bathroom that tucked itself away with cracks slightly forming at the sink and above towards the roof. The right handside was a bedroom that she and her boyfriend shared endearingly. Although it didn’t seem like much, she called this place her home, and even decorated it with various things. A tiny chandelier that lit up the space between the windows and the living space, which had a rug and several comfortable chairs that stood around a circle. It also included instruments, strawn over the place.

However, she wasn’t quite sure that this place was home. Considering where she was mere moments ago, she had every right to be paranoid that this place was another nightmare or something entirely fabricated. After taking off her heels onto a nearby shoe rack, she checked outside once again to see if the void still existed out there. Outside, the apartment felt normal again. She heard chatter and shuffling coming from all parts of the building; from down the hall, two people were going on about the recent murder spree by someone, another person walked out from a door just closer towards the end of the hallway that took one quick glance around them before they were gone and the hallway was lit up by the windows that she did not see as she came home. 

Weird. She swore she could have been going through this space without any lights to help her, and no one to help her. She didn’t want to sound like a lunatic going around, so she wanted to figure out the answer on her own. As she closed the door and went back inside, the previous ‘how’ and ‘why’ questions had a different name under it: “Why did everything disappear, and why did everything seem so… normal?” she uttered aloud, going through towards the windowsill, as she looked outside and letting the sunlight hit her. It’s here her eyes pondered through the streets and her mind subconsciously dwelled on the questions.

Through the cars and stars that she can and can’t see, she was searching for an answer: Why did she go through the impossible apartment? She paced around the room, trying to sort out herself as she was just outside in the heat, clasping a briefcase with a great deal of care and a suit. Throughout her journey through the household, she held herself on a high after that entire encounter. The soft steps turned softer, her hair became more undone, and her moody attitude seemed to seep into what she was wanting to do.

“What even was that- I don’t get it!” She frustratingly thought out loud, her head and body swaying through the complex to do maintenance: sweeping the household, preparing food from the fridge to cook for her and him for tonight. Since he hadn’t been home at all, she thought ahead and prepared one of their favorite meals together: a simple spaghetti carbonara, with bacon pieces and a sauce she had also prepared the night before. Although it wasn’t everyday she cooked like this, it’s… much better than his monstrosities.

Like ‘pancakes with bacon and eggs on top, with syrup drizzled all over it’ type of monstrosity.

She stopped by now, and planned to do more to the place to make it look pretty. Two sharp knocks came from the front door, unexpectedly so. Lola put everything aside, and yelled out a “coming!” before slowly making her way towards it. Unusual, since she hadn’t had anyone made plans with her, let alone have them come over to this dingy apartment. To have someone knock is either someone from across the hall, or it was Rocky, which shouldn’t be home until about 7PM. Regardless, she wouldn’t dare answer if it weren’t for the peephole that came with the door. She peeked through, and she was surprised.

Rocky stood there, albeit more steady than ever, and his head was covered by a hat that made him look like anyone else. Lola stood for a moment, before proclaiming to him that this wasn’t like him at all.

“Rocky! You can’t scare me with that!” She teased him, trying to get anything out of the guy.

Nothing.

“Rocky?” She lowered her sarcastic tone, this time a concern spread across her face.

Again, Rocky stood absolutely still, without any noise and movement. 

Confused, she clasped the door handle and swung it open. There he still was, standing still with a coat and a hat that still covered his face up towards his mouth. She staggered, not used to seeing him in this sort of quietness before. Carefully, she catered to him and managed to walk him inside the house. He, reluctantly, staggered through the front door and down through towards the open space. Until now, she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him, maybe the job at hand was a bit too much and he had gone home. But she took another look at her hand and realized the crimson it held. It bled into her viewpoint, and she watched as Rocky took one more step before collapsing onto the floor, the bloody footprints and the impact he made on the floor suddenly shook her subconscious into question, as she paced towards Rocky and grabbed hold of him, whose face is now shown to her.

Her strength was close to being diminished, her eyes’ tears flooded a river and her mouth couldn’t utter any other words. Silence was her only friend as she tugged on him again. For the first time, his smile left him behind. His body felt colder and colder to touch, what he had to say soon also followed the plunge. His head slowly slumped backwards, and Lola felt that everything halted. His eyes were bloodshot, almost too much that she didn’t even recognize it. His face had blood pouring out of his forehead, a cut made by something extremely sharp. His face scrambled every word that fell out of his mouth, as he weakly addressed the lady of the household. 

“Lola- Ms Deluca!...” He coughed out, words mixed with spit and blood. “I’m– sorry…��

“What happened–?!” Lola reprised, her eyes searching up and down for any other wounds that left him in this state.

“I… was a little carr-ied away!” He flinched slightly, still jovially despite his life threatening situation.

“Carried away?! Rocky, you could have died!” She put her eyes away from him, and left to find a first aid kit that finally came in handy thanks to Rocky’s profession. She wrapped his head in the bandage, and sat him up on a nearby chair. Her worries were far from over, however, as she stood next to him to try and find an answer to why and how… he was like this.

“I.. am sorry.” He bore a frown, his eyes seemed to also disconnect from Lola. 

“Rocky, you do so much for so little!” Lola angrily told him, her eyes watering because of the shock from that entire experience. “Please, have some thoughts about some danger that you’re putting yourself through! For goodness’ sake, I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here!” 

Soon, an uncomfortable silence took up the room, with Rocky dumbfounded and Lola left overwhelmed by how Rocky acted outside in his job. The silence, briefly sliced by the mid afternoon commune and murmurs that echoed through the walls and throughout the entire afternoon towards the night time, they didn’t speak to each other. Not even through the meal that she had planned for the both of them, not even through the countless chores and homework they do together. Nothing got them talking to each other, yet the silence persisted.

Soon, as he finally got rid of his temporary headband, he was back at the entrance again. Lola narrowed her eyes, and pondered if she could have been too protective of him. Sure, he’d have days where he’d be like this 90% of the time, but it all seemed without care. Like an honest mistake. She didn’t seem to know how much trouble this man would go through for her, and maybe she’d be ignorant enough to overlook that side of him. 

Lola approached Rocky, sitting beside him as he put on his shoes. His eyes didn’t seem to catch her, not did it look away from his foot as he slipped on his shoes. She tugged at his jacket, her arms shook both what she had left in her sanity and his balance. As a result, he was dragged towards her ears and tearful eyes that he hadn't seen in a while. He murmured some words into his own head, and listened to what Lola had to say. 

“Promise me something, Rocky.” She said, a somber tone whispered across her voice.

He stared back at her, again silent because of the guilt that swept over him.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself. Promise me you’ll be more considerate of yourself out there. Promise me.” She continued, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as Rocky looked on with guilt.

“I… promise.” He said, swallowing his own words. 

She held him closer towards him. This time, they were face to face without any space between them. Reminiscent of their first meeting, and every meeting after that. She didn’t know whether to be glad he was still here with her or to be upset that he was left in this condition by the unending dangers of bootlegging. She held him, and her hands shook slightly as Rocky saw her well of tears surround his vision. She sobbed and weeped, silently as the night went on. 

“Promise you’ll never forget about me.” She remarked one last time, through her tears and choked voice.

“I promise, my dear. I can… only promise.” 

His words meant a lot more than what it is, and Lola knew it would be enough if it came from him.

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 4: "Les mots de Whistledown"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: While the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. You learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. However, there were some things that not even the Duke of Burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to London for a while and go to the Royal Academy of Art.

Nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. You had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. But again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? Especially when a man like Benedict Bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, love triangles (but not really), lgbtq+ themes, bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: After enough days hiding in plain view, your arrival in London gets announced by Lady Whistledown. Its consequences—dozens of suitors— wrecked your plans for the day, but the dinner at the Bridgerton home wasn't one of those, but unfortunately, there is one Bridgerton brother you are still yet to meet.

Word count: 3.7K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Dearest gentle reader,

It is this author's duty to keep you informed of the most important news, and it mortified me to not have a positive thing to notify you of in recent times. However, it has come to my attention that there is a charmant new arrival in town.

Walls have ears, doors have eyes, trees have voices, and so do I, and we all have gathered here to tell you, dear reader, that the distinguished Lady Y/N of Burgundy, daughter of the late Duke of Burgundy, took a trip from France to delight us with her presence.

By now, you are sure I cannot grant you incomplete information here, so I must let you know that Lady Y/N is nothing but grace, elegance, kindness and virtue in the flesh. If she had arrived at the beginning of the Season, and we could count on Her Majesty's judgment to be correct, she would have been named the Queen's diamond.

That takes us, dear reader, to our next topic of conversation in this issue, a matter most must be pondering about. Surely, there is a reason for her to be in London, and do not think for a second your beloved author will leave you in the dark any longer: she is looking for a husband!

Now, I plead the gentlemen of the Ton not to get eager, for there are certain requirements you must possess in order to even consider courting her: heart, wealth, face, and brains!

If you are a respectable gentleman and consider yourself not only in possession of those requirements, but also worthy of her, do not hesitate to pay Lady Y/N a visit at the Carrington Mansion.

And a little help: it seems like she is quite the emerald enthusiast.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Whistledown.

"Mama! Your dearest Lady Y/N is on today's issue of Lady Whistledown!" Eloise yelled after reading the paper.

Violet Bridgerton frowned. "Is she really?"

Eloise nodded eagerly, starting to read the article out loud to her mother and some of her siblings that were in the room.

"Is she to be a duchess, then?" Hyacinth asked.

"That is not how it works, Sister." Anthony said.

"Is she pretty?" Colin questioned.

"Oh, she is." Benedict answered to Colin with a smirk.

"You know her?" Eloise looked at her brother wide-eyed.

"The director of the Academy, Lord Carrington, is her godfather. I even painted her portrait the day before yesterday," he explained. "How do you know her?"

"Her father was friends of your father and I," Violet replied. "I reunited with her at Lady Danbury's first, but yesterday, Eloise and I were at the Modiste and saw her again."

Benedict smiled and stood up with a groan, hoping that maybe you would go to the Academy today for whatever reason. "I am off to the Academy!"

Lady Bridgerton shook her head at her son. "If you or your brother try to get close to her, let me warn you that you shall only do so if you have the best of intentions."

"Did you know she was the one to send those cufflinks you're wearing, Brother?" Eloise questioned, looking at him attentively as he admired the precious emeralds adorning the cuffs of his shirt. Even after so many years, he still wore them from time to time.

"Oh, is she also the one who sent us wine a couple years ago?"

"Yes, it was her," His mother gave him a quick glance. "You should know that the wine came with a heartfelt letter thanking me for the condolences I sent for her father's death, so you must not mention that to her during dinner tonight."

"Is she coming tonight?!"

"Yes, Sister, my mother invited her for dinner," Eloise told Hyacinth. "Although, I fear she might not come when she hears that both Colin and Benedict have their intentions set on courting her."

"Benedict is not going to court her," Colin stated, ignoring where his brother was the past afternoon. "And I cannot conceive the idea of her ignoring me! I've got the heart, the wealth, the brains and the hair!"

"Heart, wealth, face and brains." Eloise corrected him.

"The great hair is surely a bonus point in my favor, is it not?"

Hyacinth laughed. "You don't even know her!"

"I have heard enough." He smiled.

"What could Lady Whistledown even know anyway? Y/N arrived just a few days ago, and for Whistledown to say such amazing things about her, it would mean they have known each other for a while or simply Y/N did something nice for Whistledown, doesn't it?" Eloise theorized. She gave it a thought in silence and then ran to her room.

"She is everything Lady Whistledown says," Lady Bridgerton commented, giving Colin a serious look. "She is also self-righteous, obedient, honest, and service-oriented. She would make such a lovely wife… But as I just said, if you do not have the best intentions, Colin Bridgerton, don't you dare get near her."

"You are taking all the fun out of it, now I think I do not want her anymore."

"Good."

Hyacinth looked at the scene in amusement, returning to the pianoforte.

You woke up to Antoinette's insistence. "Antoinette! Is it not too early for you to wake me up so violently?"

"You are in the newest issue of Lady Whistledown!"

"Who on Earth is that?" you questioned with a frown.

"It is a gossip newspaper here in London, you must read it!"

"Does it have to do with Antoine?"

"Thanks to the Heavens, it does not."

"Then, I couldn't care less. I have a few minutes of sleep left until I have to go to the Academy."

Antoinette sighed. "I am afraid you won't be able to attend the Academy today."

"What?" You wrinkled your nose. "Why not?!"

"Because there is a long line of suitors waiting just for you, my Lady."

You sat up immediately and took the newspaper in Antoinette's hands, reading it all in less than a minute.

"Mon Dieu !" you groaned. "How many men are waiting for me?"

"At least four dozens." A tired exhalation indicated just your mood as you stood up and got changed with the help of Antoinette.

Once you were ready, you went downstairs to meet with quite the entourage of gentlemen. The staff of the mansion were running here and there, trying to accommodate everyone as best as they could.

"At least one of these must be interesting enough to marry."

You laughed. "Everyone younger than me or old must be sent away. The same applies if the man seems slow or a shag-bag, I am not going to tolerate that. Other than that, let the games begin," you instructed, letting your pettiness get the best of you. "This must be fun!"

"Anything you say."

"If any of them is Lord Walker or Mr. Schwartz, let them in," you said. "Madame Delacroix recommended them. Oh, you remember about Benedict, do you not?"

"I do, he was here yesterday."

You smiled at the memory. "If he is here, make him come first."

Antoinette tried not to laugh as she nodded, and soon enough, you were sitting in front of the third gentleman Lady Carrington had sent your way. Antoinette was your escort and some of the staff.

"Was the 'heart, wealth, face, and brains' your line?" he asked, making you chuckle.

"I did not say that, though it is not like those are four qualities I don't search for in a man. Especially the heart and the brains."

Lord Weber smiled. "Parler français est une condition nécessaire, aussi ?"

[Is speaking French a requirement also?]

"Uh, oui, mon copain doit parler français car je viens de France," you explained to him that your husband must speak French because you are French. "And you do."

"Are you looking to marry anytime soon?"

"I was exposed by your clownesque gossip writer, so I must say yes."

He chuckled. "Do you not want to marry?"

"I do, but not as soon as that woman said. She made me look desperate, did she not?"

"Just a little."

"I only ever wanted to make my debut during the Carrington ball and see what happens," You shrugged. "At least I know that the men Lady Carrington threw out will not come back."

She did all of us a favor, did she not?"

"She did," You curved your lips. "So, tell me about your family: do you have brothers or sisters?"

"A younger brother and an older sister. My father passed away a few years ago, and my mother lives in the country," he replied. "We have a manor in the outskirts of town, actually. Maybe you and the Carringtons could come and stay with my family for the annual Weber Masquerade Ball if you wish."

"Oh, when is it going to be held?"

"The last weekend of the next month, my Lady."

"I shall speak to the Carringtons about it and give you an answer, then, my Lord."

He gave you a charming smirk. "Would you be interested in walking along the promenade with me this afternoon?"

"I'm afraid I already have plans for the afternoon, Lord Weber, but perhaps we could arrange it for another day." you said, wishing for him to not invite you anywhere if it was time for you to be at the Academy.

"Tomorrow afternoon sounds good?"

You nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."

Lord Weber stood up and offered you his hand to help you stand up. You took it and once you were both standing in front of one another, he kissed your knuckles.

"Would you forgive me if I said to everyone that you are an insufferable young lady? All is fair in love and war, or so I've heard."

"I would be very offended and disappointed that you didn't stand a chance against some men who do not even speak French, my Lord."

He winked. "You're right. See you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes."

When he disappeared, you threw yourself on the couch.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be," you complained. "I am tired of them, are there many more?"

"Around ten."

You groaned. "They are always inviting me to do something and I am obliged to say yes! What if I am busy doing something actually important? They are inviting me to go for walks and do stuff when I should be in…"

Your face shone with enlightenment when the idea crossed your mind, and a loud, excited shriek echoed in the entire room.

"Every cloud has a silver lining!" You hugged Antoinette, who laughed as she tried to push you away. "Bring them all in!"

"Did you tell your sister you're going out tonight?" Cortez asked you. You gave him a condescending look.

"I am invited to go to dinner tonight at someone's family, I have no idea where, to be honest. So, right after dinner, I'll go to White's."

"Yes!" he cheered. "But don't you be too late."

"I will not promise you a thing, Santiago," you replied. "That I am going must be more than enough for you."

"We will be drowning that hostility in whiskey, Antoine!"

"I am more of a wine person, you know?"

"Oh, let's get this man back to his homeland!" he yelled. "Not at White's tonight, by the way. It will be a private party at the Cortez Manor."

"Sure, see you there." You got inside your carriage with a big smile. "We should get going to the Carrington Mansion so I can get ready to go to the Bridgertons for dinner and then I'm going to the Cortez Manor for a private party!"

"You are doing what?!" Antoinette questioned, altered. "It has been a very long, hard day, my Lady. Go back to the Carrington Mansion after dinner, listen to me."

"I already promised Santiago I would go. Antoine Voclain is a man of his word."

"Antoine Voclain doesn't exist, my Lady, please stop this before it gets out of hand!" she pleaded. "We can still say he passed away and you will not get in any trouble."

"I will not get in any trouble, Antoinette," you told her, taking your clothes off. "And I'm not going to stay in Art School my entire life, just for some time until… I don't know, until I find out who I am."

She sighed. "You are Y/N Voclain, the future duchess of Burgundy. You are a respectable Lady, you are intelligent, talented… You are going to make an excellent wife, mother to many children, and you are going to marry a man who can see that. You will bring so much pride and honor to your father to watch from the Heavens."

"Look at me," you demanded. "I am taking off the clothes that I stole from my cousin, I just finished another day at a school I am not allowed to attend, I am on my way to the home of a family who received me with open arms and open doors, the same family I lie to every single day. I am sitting in this carriage I stole from home, with the maid and the drivers I forced to travel for two days to a strange city with me. I should be looking for a husband, but instead, I wear jewels a second and a hat the other. Most ladies are only allowed to have makeup and ball gowns, but I have all of that plus a library of all the books I have read and the poems I have written, I have a bow and arrows, I fence, I travel, I paint, I do the numbers, I speak, and that is not who a respectable lady is supposed to be! I hate to think that I was born to be a wife and a mother while my father raised me to be more than that… Once I realize who that person is, I will return to France. Not a second before."

Antoinette felt silent while you wiped the tears you didn't notice had run down your face. You arrived at the mansion but didn't leave the carriage until you were ready.

"My, my, where have you been?" Lady Carrington asked as soon as you were in front of her.

"I went out for a walk with Antoinette," you mumbled. "I asked your maid to please tell you."

"She did, but you must let me know when you are going out, you're a lady!"

You nodded. "I understand, Lady Carrington. My apologies."

"It is okay, dear," She exhaled. "Are you going to the Bridgertons'?"

"Yes, I will get ready first."

"If Lady Bridgerton invites you to stay a little longer for some tea, stay. I know you must be tired for such a hectic morning full of suitors and the promenade in the afternoon, but it would be rude not to."

"I will, Lady Carrington."

"It is a pleasure to finally have met you all," You smiled. "Though, I was informed that there were eight of you."

"Our brother had a… matter to attend to," Anthony informed. "But he sends his apologies for not being here."

"Very well," You nodded. "I am looking forward to seeing him later."

"So is he." Gregory mentioned under everyone's apprehensive glance, and his sister Hyacinth jostled him.

You ignored it with a small smile.

"Shall we start?" Lady Bridgerton asked.

"Yes! I am starving." you agreed.

Most of the siblings thanked you.

"How has been your time here in London, Lady Y/N?" Colin asked.

"It has been great! I have met a lot of nice people, thanks to that I could see your mother again," you replied, muttering a thank you to the maid who served your food. "Everything was perfect until that absurd Lady Whistledown exposed my arrival to absolutely everyone, and had the Carrington Mansion full of gentlemen."

"No one caught your attention?"

You chuckled. "It's not that. Lady Carrington filtered all the men for me. I suppose that knowing everything about everyone is convenient from time to time. Lady Whistledown made me look desperate, did she not? It was humiliating to some extent."

"That is what I thought, too," Eloise said. "To anyone it could be flattering, right? But she described you like a trophy to get!"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed. "I thought I could make the most out of it, but I am a little offended that she made me look like nothing but a lovely bride."

Eloise smiled widely, but before she could say anything, her mother interrupted her. "Was there any suitor interesting, my dear?"

"One or two," you confessed. "I am afraid they will lose their interest in me once they find out I would rather be visiting my mother's family in the Americas instead of attending balls like a trophy."

"Have you been to the Americas?" Colin asked with wide eyes.

"Yes! My mother is from there, and her family owns the biggest emerald mines," you replied. "I wish to return soon, but I have never traveled such distances alone. After my father's death, I am afraid my voyages will have to wait until I marry."

"You travel a lot?" Anthony asked.

"I used to with my father… ever the explorer," You took a sip of your drink. "I would go with him whenever and wherever he went, so I have been to many places."

"I was traveling, too, a couple of months ago. My favorite stop was the Greek Islands." The rest of the Bridgertons groaned at Colin's intervention.

"I have been to Greece also. My father wanted paintings of the Greek Ancient Ruins in Athens and Epidaurus," you commented. "Although I would not change the Kingdom of Tahiti for anywhere in the world, it is certainly the most glorious land I have set foot in."

"Y/N, Colin will never shut up if you keep feeding him with information about travels."

"Eloise!" Lady Bridgerton scolded her.

You laughed. "It is not a problem, if you wish I will stop talking."

"Do not listen to her," Colin asked you with a grin. "Did your father get the paintings?"

"He did indeed, I painted them." you answered, and Eloise and Anthony looked at each other with knowing eyes.

"It is such a shame that our brother is not here, he would adore you." Eloise commented, making you look at her in confusion.

"He will regret not being here, certainly," Daphne smirked. "I hope you see each other at the Carrington ball."

Colin shook his head. "Please, ignore them."

You frowned. "Uh… the food is incredible, Lady Bridgerton."

"I am glad you like it, dear." She sighed in relief. "Did you like the wine?"

"I did," You nodded. "Which reminds me, did you like the wine I had sent to you the last time?"

"We all did," Lady Bridgerton answered. "Actually, Colin was telling me how much he had enjoyed it earlier today."

"That is good to hear!" you exclaimed happily. "It comes from our winery."

"It was one of the best wines I have ever had." Anthony added.

You smiled. "Thank you very much, my Lord. I will make sure to send a letter and have some bottles sent to you directly from Burgundy."

"We will be looking forward to it," Anthony said. "And please, call me Anthony."

"However you please, Anthony. Please, call me Y/N, too."

"And how is Burgundy, Y/N?" Francesca asked you.

"It is a wonderful region, dear Francesca," you told her. "And all of you are more than welcome at the Château de Germolles, the Château du Clos de Vougeot, or the Palace of the Dukes."

"Thank you, dear, we will take it into consideration. Perhaps for vacations." Lady Bridgerton answered.

"I hope it doesn't stay in consideration and I get to have you. All of you are welcome, there is more than enough space for all the Bridgertons. I am sure you would adore the Palace... it is enormous, there is art everywhere, the most precious gardens for you to explore."

"We must tell Benedict everything, he will be so mad to have missed her!" Eloise whispered to Anthony, and they both chuckled.

"I would love to!" Hyacinth nodded eagerly.

"Then I will be expecting you. Your presence would be a treasure to have in my homeland." You winked.

The rest of the dinner was great. Daphne talked about her husband and child, and invited you to Hastings whenever you wanted to. There was some teasing at Anthony when you mentioned, accidentally, that you had met the Sharmas at Lady Danbury's, and somehow Colin managed to find a way to mention his travels again.

After the dessert, you said goodbye to everyone and returned to your carriage.

"Now, we shall go to the Cortez Manor." you told Antoinette, who told the drivers. Once the carriage started moving, you started getting changed.

"You cannot tell Benedict about everything that she said!"

Eloise laughed. "They have already met, Colin."

"Oh, they would make the perfect match, would they not?" Hyacinth commented.

"I hear wedding bells." Francesca added with a smile.

"This counts as treason." Colin shook his head, making his siblings laugh.

"Colin, Y/N does not have a father to look after her, so I feel personally responsible for her now that she is here in London. If you do not have good intentions, I beg you to stay away from her."

"Why do you not have faith in me?"

Daphne laughed. "You have said more than enough times that you do not wish to marry, so forgive Mama for doubting you."

"So has Benedict!"

"While it is fairly obvious that she is too good for our brother, and this is coming from someone who is deeply against marriage, me, you have to admit that they have enough in common to make a good couple," Eloise told Colin. "And I would only support her getting married because that is what she wishes for."

Her mother looked at her surprised. "I hope you do not brainwash her into not wanting to marry, Eloise."

"Do you think she would have been named the Queen's diamond had she arrived earlier?" Hyacinth wondered.

"She surely would have." Colin replied.

"Then she would be engaged to Anthony." Eloise joked.

"I would have proposed, just so you know, Colin." Anthony mocked his brother. "We would be with child right now."

"Anthony!" his mother chided.

"Y/N would not marry Anthony if she knew Benedict… Being engaged to the wrong brother sounds awful, does it not?" Daphne gave Anthony a look, making him roll his eyes.

"Then it is good no one is engaged to a wrong sibling." Anthony cut the conversation, leaving the dining room.

[ladylynse]

Happy Halloween, and trick or treat, please!

I was considering asking for one of the other "duffel bag" prompts you didn't already extend, but I thought I shouldn't be a one-trick ghost who asks for the same thing over and over.

SO, instead I am going to ask for a prequel to the DP prompt "Danny returns Lancer's wallet". For whatever reason, I just like to cause Danny and Lancer trouble, and want to see Lancer's wallet in Danny's pocket. Whether that annoys or concerns Danny.

Happy Halloween! Something in between this ficlet and this ficlet it is! Since Lancer didn't know the wallet was missing in the second ficlet, I actually built this off the first one (“Danny, why do you have Mr. Lancer’s wallet?”), in italics below.

-|-

“Danny, why do you have Mr. Lancer’s wallet?”

“What?” Danny asked, not understanding Valerie’s question, but he followed her pointing finger and, sure enough, there was a wallet on top of his backpack, neatly flipped open to reveal Lancer’s driver’s license.

Youngblood was so going to pay for this.

And, okay, fine, it might not be Youngblood, even if Youngblood had been playing one too many pranks recently. It might not have anything to do with ghosts. It could be Dash or someone else acting on his orders.

Still, that did not make it better.

Danny’s parents might not murder him for real if he got suspended from school, but they would have him do his make-up work in the lab while they worked in the meantime, and that might result in him being murdered for real by one invention or another. Just. Accidentally. Which, in that light, strictly speaking wasn’t murder. What did that make it, criminal negligence causing death? That ship had already sailed.

Technically.

Not that he was going to tell his parents that, let alone any authorities.

Danny snatched the wallet off his backpack and stuffed it into his back pocket, hoping it wouldn’t seem out of place there. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he said quickly. Why did Valerie have to have such sharp eyes? Why couldn’t this be a class he shared with Sam or Tucker so they could help distract her?

“Uh huh.” Valerie wasn’t even pretending to believe him. “If Dash or Paulina put you up to this as some twisted sort of test to get invited to the next big party, they’re pulling your leg. Ten to one they tell Lancer if you don’t turn it in before lunch, assuming they’re not telling someone right now. And leaving it out in the open like that is just plain stupid. I know you’re smarter than that.”

Danny groaned. “That’s why I said this isn’t what it looks like.”

 Valerie raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me that’s a fake?”

Danny tried a smile, but judging by Valerie’s expression, it didn’t come across as one. “Would you believe me if I did?”

Valerie huffed. “They’re setting you up. I know their style. Just give it back sooner rather than later, okay?”

Danny might be set up by the living or framed by the dead, but that wouldn’t matter if Lancer caught him with his wallet and Danny didn’t have a better explanation than this isn’t what it looks like and I think I’m being haunted. The ever handy and only sometimes true excuse of ghosts only went so far, even in Amity Park.

“I promise you, I do not intend to keep this for any longer than I have to.” Danny didn’t want to keep the wallet at all, really. He’d much rather steal money from Vlad than Lancer, and Danny was pretty sure he already knew the closest thing to Lancer’s deep dark secret. Giving this back ASAP was the plan.

But if this was Youngblood and not a human’s prank, there was unfortunately a very, very high chance of the wallet ending up in Danny’s possession again. As in, after he returned it. As in, returning it a second time would be awkward, something he’d try to spin as a coincidence and Lancer might buy if he were feeling particularly gracious.

If Danny wound up with the wallet three times, he was screwed.

Which is why taking precautions would probably be prudent, even if it meant hanging onto the wallet for a little longer.

And skiving off biology to sneak home to dunk Lancer’s wallet in some phase-proof foam.

…That might come back to bite him, but if it did, that would be Future Danny’s problem. Current Danny thought it was a great idea to get Youngblood to stop doing this to him.

Assuming this was Youngblood.

If it was Dash after all, treating the wallet wouldn’t help, and there was still a half decent chance of it ending up in his possession more than once.

Eh, Future Danny’s problem. He was only going to figure out how to cross that bridge if he actually came to it. It’s not like a thorough examination of the wallet would tell him who had stolen it either way.

It…may not be a bad plan, though. If only because then he could make sure nothing had been slipped into Lancer’s wallet. Because that could be bad, depending on what that something was and how incriminating it was.

Danny couldn’t see right now how this could be Vlad’s scheme, but he still wouldn’t put it past Vlad if it wasn’t Youngblood or Dash.

“You’re not….” Valerie hesitated and bit her lip. “I mean, you guys aren’t…. You’re still okay, right?”

Danny stared at her.

“Like, your parents haven’t, uh, not gotten groceries or something when you need them, right?”

Wait.

Did she think—?

“Because if it’s money you need,” Valerie continued, her voice somehow even quieter than before despite the sudden rush of her words, “I can talk to my boss. Even if you get detention, it’s just for an hour, right? So you could start a shift after that. You could be the mascot. No one would know it’s you, so no one else will know it’s because of…this.”

“We’re still fine,” Danny blurted out. That was probably true. Jazz had gone grocery shopping last week, anyway, and barely anything had gotten contaminated since. “I should just…return this. Now.”

Valerie was frowning at him.

Great.

She didn’t believe him.

Actually, how bad that was depended on which part she didn’t believe.

There wasn’t a way to ask that wouldn’t make this worse, was there?

“So, uh.” Danny reached down to pick up and then shouldered his backpack. “Yeah. I’ll see you in math, I guess?”

“Don’t do anything stupider than you already have.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Danny quipped, but Valerie just pursed her lips and finally—finally—left, though that was more likely so she could make it to class before the bell rang than because she was finished with him.

Danny headed for the washroom instead of class, locked himself in a stall, and dug the wallet out of his pocket to get a better look at it.

Yeah, there was no mistaking it. This was Lancer’s wallet. It even contained a picture of his ‘sister’.

Crud.

Why did this kind of thing always happen to him?

(see more fics | related musing | related musing)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

days after the bit of rereading inspiring it Hraaarghh summoning the power to verbalize "i appreciate how much Everyone's Really Motivated Rn Huh & Barely Keeping Ahead Of Things is set up / converging At This Moment for the gamers in lackadaisy"

go mitzi lmao with the fraud or whatever (more importantly robbing the last friend in the world cashed in like poker chips you said it wasn't gonna be like that it wasn't supposed to be but etc Great Exchanges) stringing back together the symbolism necklace, are you sure progress is the world, all this on the line to barely hold things together a bit longer & then the payoff of this relies on what's going on with the other active players in the operation, which is "even more haphazardly strung together into an operation" and "it's going: bad"

which is to say, getting An begrudging shipment of goods based on a bluff, which hasn't been made yet, things are hanging together by a thread as it were, mostly nobody's having a good or particularly strategic time but now they're sure More In It than ever. and killing a guy from the most powerful enemy to make around here who is already on the defensive (ft. good offense style) but whoops where's the other guy? well that's probably fine, as was almost getting shot, and the entire run isn't even completed & compare this to the success of the marigold trifecta operation we were just shown. really ramping up the "no way this can go on indefinitely, & only would keep going on if you Need To Believe It Can Work Out rather than bring down disaster 5 min later"

shoutout to zib in whatever stage of imprisonment he's in where initially it's like "well dropping your access to / affiliation with lackadaisy pin down a drain could solely be about 'ha ha, now Another authority won't detect this'" but i'm supposing it's (also) about giving up on the operation / actually intending to cut his losses. But What Will Happen....and will the time devoted to his establishing any rapport with a prohibition bureau agent lead to him Learning Anything important? hmm

meanwhile there's viktor over there not wanting everything to end with paisley & regret, who's also like "wow i'm moved to tragically look at these unanswered letters from my Daughter daughter, whoops i lost (a picture of) her to the abyssal underworld (basement space) & can't manage to retrieve her (photo) from it. sure hope i don't get a call from elsa telling me a daughter figure is doing her first rumrunning challenge for the vine"

lmao MY guy. you imply around mordecai that marigold WAS up to something that could've played into atlas's death, On Top Of that Something's Up currently that's involving him but he doesn't understand it and he can't get any info from marigold about it, it's like two nights later & he's asking gracie about it, what a special time they're having. unfortunate that it's gonna end in ten seconds based on "mordecai is pushing a guy like thrice his size along on a squeaking desk chair through the obstacle course of an abandoned brewery so i don't think that's prime conditions to evade the savoys' detection / catching up to that" and "also wip sketch pages suggest serafine's about to noscope gracie 'what's going on here' shoot first ask questions of the guy who was supposed to have shot him already later" so like, a) mordecai will presumably have the info about gracie's scheduled Next Meeting With Drago (in several days) so like hm what's he gonna do? we know drago is focused on marigold. does he have info for zib, for mordecai? how would mordecai approach a meeting with a fed out here & as little Specificity to work with as he's had in questioning gracie, even if plausibly drago Does have more relevant info? i guess you could abduct him too, for a start. risky, ups the stakes, but that's just what he's Already done (as has Everyone Else, as per the central topic of this post) and so now b) seems like the savoys' getting to go "uhhh so. what's up" about mordecai's antics (like. also do we really think the savoys believe he's Having Fun anyways. i Guess. just also probably they'll very easily readjust that belief lmao)

actually this is just a paragraph break for the hell of it. MY GUY....so that basically it's looking like another thing that'll happen is mordecai will have to accept an Affiliation Outside Marigold with the savoys, simply b/c suddenly they have all this leverage knowing he's up to something, But based on what they've Just said & done, they aren't particularly interested in Telling On Him but Are particularly interested in "yeah we don't assume we or you will work at marigold forever, so also we Do want to be allied outside marigold forever" and like seems plausible they could be interested in [find out what's going on at marigold that Concerns Them but that they can't be more privy to than they are now] designs as well anyways. difficult to imagine that they can get on exactly the same page here, but it could be some Good Enough compromise between all of them. and i hope so because they Are still crushing it out here and i certainly think their allying in recognition of We're All Out Here Doing What It Takes To Survive is a basis of encouraging clarity / accuracy on the matter and of course a powerful teamup to maintain & work with & because like lord the [this is a narrative] target on mordecai otherwise perhaps lmao like he does not have the insulation of "wow, family, beautiful" or "wow, romance, beautiful" or "wow, the 'innocence' to have been insulated from This Kind Of Situation in the first place, beautiful" or "wow, randos happen to find you useful AND personable, beautiful" or "so you're up to violence in the violence business & so is everyone else but did you see all these preceding points?? watch out" like boy he needs the backup here. fingers crossed my special little guy. and rooting for the savoys too. anyways

and like see all my murder mystery musing but ofc i dunno what marigold's other Ventures and other Warnings and other Thorns are all about, but that we know Something's Up, and it sure could be that like whatever retrenchment type of maneuvers might've led to some situation of marigold like ummm maybe we care more about an alliance with atlas being a potential liability rather than an asset and then that nonzero involvement in the interest of Indefinite Survival For The Business will have been a little domino of its own destruction set off. would be wild if such "whoops trying to outrun one's own doom was feeding into it??" & Cycles Of Violence & stuff were like some fundamental themes driving the whole narrative here. would be wild if it was like nooo not the isolated guy too Weird to everyone else nooooo....at least one way or another getting up to plenty of Drama first. that's right

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: The Apothecary Diaries Light Novel, Vol. 1

Author: Natsu Hyuuga, Kevin Steinbach (trans.)

Illustrator: Touko Shino

Genre/s: historical, mystery

Content/Trigger Warnings: implied pedophilia by a character no longer present in the series, kidnapping, being sold into indentured servitude, death, suicide, physical and emotional abuse

Summary (from publisher's website): In the East is a land ruled by an emperor, whose consorts and serving women live in a sprawling complex known as the hougong, the rear palace. Maomao, an unassuming girl raised in an unassuming town by her apothecary father, never imagined the rear palace would have anything to do with her—until she was kidnapped and sold into service there. Though she looks ordinary, Maomao has a quick wit, a sharp mind, and an extensive knowledge of medicine. That’s her secret, until she encounters a resident of the palace at least as perceptive as she is: the head eunuch, Jinshi. He sees through Maomao’s façade and makes her a lady-in-waiting to none other than the Emperor’s favorite consort… so she can taste the lady’s food for poison! At her lady’s side, Maomao starts to learn about everything that goes on in the rear palace—not all of it seemly. Can she ever lead a quiet life, or will her powers of deduction and insatiable curiosity bring her ever more adventures, and ever more dangers?

Buy Here: https://j-novel.club/series/the-apothecary-diaries

Spoiler-Free Review: Oh but this was a delight! The way I think of this is that Maomao is kind of like Sherlock Holmes, except she’s stuck in a period intrigue drama set in the rear palace of the Chinese imperial court and has to negotiate all the etiquette and conspiracies in THAT particular setting while also solving mysteries. Which, given all the conspiring, there are actually plenty of.

While the mysteries are pretty interesting, what REALLY hooked me was reading about Maomao interacting with the consorts and their ladies-in-waiting. The way Maomao views herself (low-ranked servant/food taster/apothecary) stands in direct contrast to the way the REST of the inhabitants of the rear palace view her (poor unfortunate waif), and there’s plenty of hilarious moments where Maomao does or says something that makes the other rear palace residents react in a certain way, and she does NOT for the life of her understand WHY. It’s not that she can’t READ people, because she CAN; she just doesn’t seem the least bit interested in anything that might necessarily apply to HER. On one hand there’s a pretty good reason for that: she firmly believes no one would care about her because she’s so low in the overall hierarchy that she doesn’t think anyone would care about her welfare. On the other hand, she’s just the type of person who’s not easily impressed by anyone. She knows how to act in front of her social betters, but that’s just manners; she doesn’t go out of her way to impress anyone because, in her opinion, it’s a waste of time.

What this means is that Maomao has some entertaining, and often outright HILARIOUS, interactions with the other residents of the rear palace. There is a moment in the novel where some ladies-in-waiting concoct a tragic backstory for Maomao that Maomao finds annoying - not only because it gets the facts of her life wrong, but also because it prevents her from working as much as she used to. Despite that, though, she tends to let it slide because the privileges she gains from the misunderstanding allow her to do OTHER things that are more aligned with her preferences. There’s a lot of “It is what it is, I should just make the most of it” to Maomao’s outlook in life, which is juxtaposed against her intense curiosity and willingness to go to any lengths to find the answer to any question she might have.

And then there is Jinshi: the beautiful eunuch who is constantly giving Maomao migraines. At first he’s an almost adversarial character, but that’s only because the reader first sees him through Maomao’s THOROUGHLY unimpressed eyes. It becomes clear later on that Jinshi isn’t all that he seems to be on the surface - something that Maomao figures out herself later on, though that doesn’t lessen her annoyance at him. It’s also through Maomao’s interactions with Jinshi and his assistant Gaoshun that the reader gets a sense of something brewing in the palace - something that goes beyond the games and intrigues of the imperial consorts and their ladies. Still, it’s clear his and Maomao’s dynamic is something to keep an eye on, and it’s easy to see why they’re popular as a ship in the manga and anime fandoms.

Overall, this is a very quick and entertaining read. Maomao’s an absolutely endearing character, both because she is extraordinary and extraordinarily flawed. The way she interacts with the characters around her and navigates rear palace politics often make for hilarious moments, but they make for some pretty interesting mysteries for Maomao to solve as well. It’s interesting to see where Maomao’s curiosity will take her, and what mysteries she will unravel - not just in the rear palace, but perhaps in the Imperial court itself.

Rating: five rare herbs

[gone-series-orchid]

do you think any of the villains are written well? i think caine's crew was good in Gone, but after that they just got. stereotype-y. and a little two-dimensional.

that’s a good question! i’ll hesitantly say yes—though the best antagonists, captain orc and his gang on bully row, don’t stay antagonistic for long (unfortunately).

i think having orc and howard and their group stay the ostensible leaders of the fayz would be really interesting. it could lay some of the groundwork for orc’s development early on, precluding his murder of bette. it would be fascinating for michael grant to have to toe the line between keeping orc and howard as firmly antagonistic figures while still underlining their general ineffectiveness as leaders.

not to mention, keeping orc in power for a longer time would give more “oomph” to the whole bette situation—there would be more suspense leading up to it. hypothetically, at this point we’ve gotten a pretty good insight into orc and howard’s specific petty antagonism. they’re the schoolyard bullies given an unprecedented amount of power…but they don’t really know what to do with it. they’re still menaces, and dangerous because they’re so confident (howard) and stupid (orc), but at the same time they don’t know any more than any other kid does about this new world little pete has created. they’re bad kids hopped up on this new influx of authority, but they’re not evil.

so when orc does accidentally kill bette, it’s even more of a shock than it is in canon, because we’ve seen what his rule is actually like and we know what kind of person he is.

maybe bette’s death could be built up to even more. maybe orc at this point is used to punishing people with his baseball bat if they don’t do what he says (always below the chest, though). he does it to intimidate and shock kids, and it works. sam and co. are of course concerned and disgusted by his and howard’s schoolyard tyranny.

maybe orc starts drinking at first to celebrate his captaincy (his gang has confiscated all the town’s alcohol for themselves because haha, the adults aren’t around and they can do whatever they want). he drinks to heighten his enjoyment, lower his inhibitions, and numb whatever mild stressors he’s dealing with as the fayz’s captain. he probably doesn’t even connect his drinking with his dad (that’s how different the context of said drinking is!) at that point. he’s on top of the world. he’s riding high. why shouldn’t he have fun and get drunk with his friends? it’s the fayz, after all. it’s a party.

it’s only after bette’s death that he drinks to dull his suffering and guilt.

sorry, i kind of went off on a tangent. anyway!

in a similar vein, i enjoy the human crew for their very human awfulness. i think mg writes them well. i just wish they had a lasting effect on the fayz as a whole and were generally taken more seriously as threats—the gaiaphage, drake, and caine were always prioritized over the call coming from inside the house. which of course, they’re bigger threats, but there’s something a lot more compelling about rooting out the villains festering in the fayz itself. zil and the human crew are driven by bigotry and resentment that have grown because of the power dynamic of the council that the protagonists have spearheaded.

i guess i just love pathetic bullies being the big bad antagonists of the fayz. they’re more interesting because they’re so fallible and human. i just don’t find caine or drake or the gaiaphage interesting in comparison.

on the coates trio, i definitely think they were at their peak in the first book. in hindsight i’m really surprised mg didn’t refer back to their alliance in later books. that might give drake a little bit more pathos, if he half-genuinely looks back on his time with cementing kids with caine and diana through a rose-tinted lens. sure, it’s mostly the torture he enjoys, but being a weird whip-handed servant to a radioactive alien in a mineshaft sounds pretty lonely. maybe he misses being a normal sadistic kid instead of a weird monstrosity, at least to a point. once the shine has worn off. 🤷‍♀️

anyway once again! sorry this got a bit more scattershot than i meant it to be. i hope i answered your question!

please feel free to send more asks!

[beonhwarp]

INTRODUCING, KUROKAWA MITSUKI (HINA) OF THE HOUSE OF GLADIOLUS !

the TWENTY-EIGHT year old is said to look a lot like MINATOZAKI SANA and resides in the HIGHBUSH HOME. they are best known as a MOON TAVERN SERVER. look! i think they're headed this way! but make sure to read this CHECKLIST before you go.

a look further into their life . . .

( TW: death by execution, kidnapping )

PAST

born to a grand officer and captain within the gladiolus knights, it was only natural that kurokawa mitsuki would follow suit.

even before she was old enough to officially join training, mitsuki was being taught by her parents. consequently, she passed the qualification test on her first attempt with ease.

infamously known as a child prodigy, mitsuki was immediately placed into the rank of a 1st class knight. despite her young age, she was able to hold her own against others who questioned her authority, leaving no opportunity for them to believe that she simply got in through her parents' name and status.

there was no doubt, however, that they held much influence within the knight order. they used their connections to raise their child to even higher heights than they even imagined for themselves: they intended to make her the next house of gladiolus heir.

they used her age as an advantage to get closer to the house of gladiolus children, to learn all there was to know about them. when the time came, her parents used all the information she'd gathered to execute the plan to kidnap the house heir.

as time went on and the house had presumed the heir to be long lost, they set a new plan into motion to completely secure mitsuki's spot as the next proclaimed heir. having rose up to the rank of captain on her own accord, the odds were slowly shifting into her favor.

but all seemed to crumble the day that the missing heir found their way back home. internal conflict shook the house and those who had once supported the kurokawa's were beginning to turn on them one by one. until eventually, someone bore the truth of the matter to the head of house.

an official investigation was sanctioned and they were found guilty of treason within the house. not wanting to attract attention to the matter, the kurokawa's were executed swiftly and quietly. as they continued to protest that mitsuki was innocent and was not involved, her life was spared. still, as a descendent of their bloodline, she was exiled from the house with all possessions and titles stripped of her.

PRESENT

she doesn't hate beonhwa, she never has. mitsuki was raised to protect her nation above all else. unfortunately, that role has been stripped of her officially, but that never changed the beliefs that were rooted within her. however, house of gladiolus has left a sour taste in mitsuki's mouth. these days, as hina, she wants nothing to do with the houses. all she wants is to go about her days quietly, avoiding any potential complications that may derive from her presence in the outskirts. the only loyalty she has is towards the landlord who extended kindness to her, despite how her particular situation may inconvenience him.

FUTURE

coming to terms with the fact that she did play a role in endangering the house of gladiolus heir more than she takes responsibility for

maybe potentially working her way back into house of gladiolus? having to really re-earn the trust of the family and all the knights around her

or really going the opposite route and choosing to no longer live in silence. she does want to complete her parents' goal and uproot the houses entirely all for her own

vengeance plot? does she feel the need to get revenge for the death of her family?

perhaps finding peace with the consequences of her past and accepting her new, quiet life outside of the houses

any feeling of finding a purpose or goal in life again— perhaps a muse that could help her find that???

written by rina (she/her), 25+ in the GMT-10 tmz. personal triggers: insects (imagery)