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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Jasonette July Day 9: Pixie

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Pixie

Rated: T

(By popular demand, a slight continuation of Game On @aespades, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone.)

A/n: Edits have been made because I noticed the paragraph errors AFTER posting this.

Marinette was really starting to miss the days of working with Chat Noir at that moment, and that was saying something. “Bugaboo” and “My Lady” were starting to feel more tolerable when she wasn’t being called that every second of the day. Being called “Pixie” regardless if she was Ladybug or Marinette, was really starting to get old, fast. For reasons that she could not understand, that’s what Jason insisted on calling her. Sure, she was a lot smaller compared to him, but that coupled with needing to hang back and let Red Hood and Arsenal deal out the heavier hits was starting to get on her nerves. She was just as experienced as them, she had a mentor just like they did, and had been saving lives for just as long as they had. Ever since she had joined them, she thought that she would be fighting alongside a team again. Now she was either supporting them or using her sewing skills to add improvements to their suits. She was in good hands, some might say hands that were a little too good. All this frustrated her to no end because she liked Jason, she would have thought that someone who had been a vigilante from a young age would understand what it felt like to be constantly underestimated.

“Unbelievable,” she snapped one night as she came home from another mission. She pulled off her pink flats and threw them across the room as she entered her apartment. She didn’t even get the chance to use her Miraculous, she was effectively closely guarded bait on that last mission. She slumped on the bed in frustration and Tikki hovered over to her, her antenna drooping in concern. “Some days I want to wipe that smile off of that stupid face, just to prove I can.” Marinette grumbled into her pillow. She didn’t hate Jason, she knew that there was some good in him. Roy was the more optimistic and cheerful of the duo, like Jason, he had also been mentored by a more experienced hero. Jason was a lot more reserved and cynical by comparison, though he wasn’t a complete Ice Prince like his brother Damian.

“Maybe it’s because they’ve been doing this for a little bit longer.” Tikki suggested, after Marinette complained about it for the umpteenth time.

“Batgirl and Black Bat are only a few years younger than me,” she reminded her, “and there’s no doubt that they could hold their own in a fight. No one gives them stupid nicknames, just shortened versions of their real names out of costume.” Tikki awkwardly scratched the back of her head. “I bet you that he barely remembers what my real name is.” Marinette was getting increasingly furious at the thought “it’s always ‘Pixie this’ and ‘Pixie that’. I know I’m shorter than him, but I have taken on giant robot dolls, literal monsters, and I once rode a dragon!” Marinette yelled.

Marinette throws a pillow at Tikki, only for it to phase through her. “What does he think I do as Ladybug? Create Christmas presents with my Lucky Charm?!”

At this very unfortunate moment Jason happened to return back to their apartment with Roy in tow. “What’s got you riled up, Pixie Pop?” Jason quipped after seeing the frustrated look on her face. This was the last straw for Marinette, “Stop calling me that! Does it please you to demean me? Does it bring you joy to fucking bully me day in and day out?” Jason and Roy take a step back from Marinette’s outburst. Marinette continues “I have kept Paris safe ever since I was 13, I didn’t have the World's Greatest Detective or a Robin Hood cosplayer helping me. It’s always you two off saving the day while I’m the distraction. Do I have to remind you that I’ve beaten Robin and Red Robin?”

“So have we, right Roy?” Jason says look backwards to Roy. Roy meanwhile was slowly walking backwards with his arms up in surrender.

“Don’t drag me into this please.” Roy pleaded.

Marinette continued her rant, “So why do you keep calling me Pixie Pop like I'm some pet or stuffed animal?” She storms up to Jason and pulls him down to her height by the collar.

Roy sensed the tension and wanted absolutely no part in making it worse, “You know what? I’m gonna go get us some shawarma.”

Jason looked over at Roy “Really, Roy?” A slight scowl made it clear he knew Roy was essentially leaving him to face Marinette’s wrath.

“All I know is that they are open at four in the morning and I’m hungry, so I’ll be right back.” Roy said, and he left the room. Just as he thought Roy was out of earshot, Jason heard sprinting down the hallway. Roy had abandoned him to face the burning blue fire in Marinette’s eyes.

Marinette let go of him, she didn’t need them, she had made that absolutely clear.

“I’m done, I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be underestimated all of the time.” she muttered harshly, “to always be kept at arm's length, because no one trusts you to do anything right.”

Marinette had no idea just how deep her words cut him, and Jason couldn’t really blame her. As far as she knew, compared to his brothers, he might as well just be ‘the one with the guns and leather jackets’. He hadn’t really told her about what had happened all those years ago, he didn’t even like to think about it himself. Roy was one of the few people who understood what he’d been through. It was true that both of them started out as sidekicks, maybe the red in their costumes helped them stand out from their mentor’s shadows. Their time as young crime fighters had left their scars. They were blindsided when they found someone who had been a heroine since she was 13, and took to it with the same determination they had when they were younger, more innocent, more naïve.

As Marinette flitted around the room, gathering her things, every nerve in Jason’s body was screaming at him to stop her. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, trying not to think about just how small it felt around his hand. “Look, I’m sorry,” he began. What could he say to her? That he knew exactly what that felt like? That the last thing they wanted was for her to end up like them? That every hit they took in a fight was one that she wouldn’t have to, so that she wouldn’t turn out broken like they were? The problem was she didn’t see them as broken, she saw them treating her like glass. If she was put through the same ordeal, Jason had no idea what he would do. If she shattered just like they did, then in a way, they would have failed her. If she came out still whole, still brimming with light, then what did that say about them?

Marinette pulled her arm away, “I’ll show you, then you’ll be sorry” she told him bitterly. With her backpack in hand and shoes on her feet, she pushed past him and walked out the door.

Jason remains staring at the open door, regretting how he had treated her. He grew fond of her during their time together as ‘Red Arse Bug’. She had a cute face, cute voice and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. “Stupid, stupid” he says to himself, facepalm at each syllable. Even with the now hostile relationship with Marinette, he knew he had to follow her. He had to stop her from making the same mistakes he did, so that she would not become like him. He put on his helmet and left to search for clues as to where Marinette would go and what she would do.

Marinette wandered through Gotham city, unsure what to do now that she stormed out of the apartment she shared with Jason and Roy. She felt like everyone belittled her, Selena did, and now so did Jason. She needed to do something eye-catching, to prove to everyone that she didn’t need their help.

As she wanders past the Iceberg Lounge, she gets a spark of inspiration. If she could take down the Penguin single-handedly, nobody in Gotham would doubt her ever again. With unyielding determination she calls out “Spots On” and turns to Ladybug, ready to take on one of the cruelest crime lords in all of Gotham. Ladybug walks up to the front door and kicks it down, sending the door flying and knocking any unfortunate goons behind it. Penguin’s gang whipped out their guns, tire irons, pipes and anything that could count as a weapon and were now charging in to stop the intruder.

Marinette swings her yo-yo to wrap around one of the goon’s ankles, before swinging him around crashing him into several others. A guard points his rifle behind Ladybug, she spins around, sending her yo-yo towards the gun and pulling it from his hands. As the guards begin to group up together in an attempt to minimise the effectiveness of her yo-yo, Marinette looks up and begins to smirk. She flings her yo-yo upwards and hooks it onto a chandelier. She yanks it down, sending the chandelier crashing onto the unsuspecting guards.

Marinette dusts her hands and proceeds to walk through into the main hall. She proceeds to kick down that door too, she is then greeted by The Penguin surrounded by his gang. “I’m taking you down Cobblepot.” She shouts, swinging her yo-yo as if it was a lasso, preparing for a fight.

The Penguin stands up from the seat of his large chair. “What are all you idiots waiting for?” He shouts all around him. He points his umbrella at Ladybug, and begins shooting his umbrella gun. “Get her!” The penguin roars, at this cue every gangster charges at Ladybug.

Marinette gracefully dodges and weaves around Penguin’s army, knocking each one out one by one. Until only The Penguin remains, she wraps her yo-yo around his umbrella, easily disarming one of Gotham’s most wanted. She walks towards The Penguin, slowly unravelling her yo-yo in anticipation of tying him up and sending him to Arkham Asylum.

The Penguin takes out a little remote control from his suit pocket, “It's not over yet.” he snarls and pushes a button. At that moment the entire building shakes.

“Born on a Monday” a voice groaned, followed by another loud thud. “Christened on a Tuesday.” the same voice groaned. Then a giant hand shoots up from beneath the floor, “SOLOMON GRUNDY” roared the giant as it emerged from the floor.

Red Hood and Arsenal had been watching the fight from a careful distance outside the Iceberg Lounge. “Well, she’s managed to take on Penguins goons just fine,” Arsenal observed through the small pair of binoculars, “she’s certainly had plenty of time to get very creative with that yo-yo”.

Red Hood’s hand was still itching to reach for one of his pistols, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. “By the way, how was your shawarma?” he asked sarcastically.

Arsenal looked over at him, raising an eyebrow “Hey, I’m not the one who said the one thing that just made her angrier, you were on your own there.”

“Nice to know you had my back.” he grumbled.

“Oh I do in a fight, you just decided to be an ass and poke the angry girl with a stick.” Arsenal pointed out.

Their banter was interrupted by an earth shattering thud, following a loud groan “Born on a Monday.” At that moment their blood ran cold. Red Hood and Arsenal rushed towards the Iceberg Lounge. Both worried for Ladybug and aware of what comes after that dreadful nursery rhyme.

“What are you two doing here? I can handle this.” growled Ladybug as Red Hood and Arsenal arrived.

Before either Red Hood or Arsenal could answer, they were interrupted by Solomon Grundy smashing the ground where Ladybug was standing. Ladybug gracefully dodged the punch, grappling onto a ceiling lamp to swing towards Grundy with a kick.

The giant grabbed Ladybug while she was mid-air and threw her towards her partners. Red Hood catches her, holding her tightly as the two fly across the room. He shields her from the shock, taking the brunt of the impact as they crash into the wall.

Red Hood groans “You okay?” Ladybug looks up to see she was relatively unharmed, but Red Hood had taken the brunt of the throw. Concern visible on her face as she sees Red Hood’s damaged helmet, and the bruised and bloodied face beneath.

Their quiet moment together was interrupted by Arsenal's cries for help. Every arrow he had in his quiver wasn’t making a dent in Solomon Grundy. Ladybug decides to cast Lucky Charm in desperation, and swings her yo-yo up. The ladybugs converge to form...a polka-dotted stick of dynamite.

“Arsenal!” She called. “Tie this to the end of an arrow, Red Hood and I will keep it busy.” She tosses the dynamite to Arsenal and tells Red Hood to tie Grundy down.

Ladybug using her yo-yo grabs on to Solomon Grundy’s left arm while Red Hood uses his grappling hook to hold on to his right arm. Leaving Grundy exposed and immobile, giving Arsenal the opportunity for a clear unobstructed target.

Arsenal draws and aims the special Lucky Charm Explosive Arrow. The giant zombie growls “Arrow Boy no hurt Grundy.”

“Arrow Boy yes hurt Grundy” quipped Arsenal, before releasing the arrow causing a thunderous explosion into Solomon Grundy’s face. The giant slumps, Ladybug and Red Hood quickly release their hold and watch its body fall back into the hole in which it came from.

Solomon Grundy’s body lays motionless in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge as the three peer over the hole in the ground, “Let’s get outta here before the GCPD or worse, Batman arrive” Red Hood points to the front door, and the three of them leave the lounge to head back to their apartment.

As the three arrive home, they each find a nice comfortable spot to collapse onto. Jason claimed the sofa, slumped down Roy in the middle of the living room floor and Marinette sat at the dining table. “I vote for a week off.” groaned Roy.

“I second that motion” agreed Jason.

“I still have design work to do.” Marinette told them, not really looking at either of them at that moment. She was torn between appreciating their help, and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to handle the situation herself like she thought.

“Still that was one hell of a fight, and hey, you still managed to take on a squad of goons by yourself.” Roy said, “I’m so proud” he said dramatically pretending to wipe away a happy tear.

He nudged Jason in the leg, “um, yeah, good work” he said awkwardly, slightly lost in thought. Marinette smiled slightly, before turning her attention back to her little fairy friend perched on the table.

“So does this mean Red Arse Bug is back together?” Roy asked enthusiastically, Marinette wasn’t really paying attention.

The name still needed work, for one thing. For once Marinette felt like her powers were being used in harmony with their abilities, but she wasn’t sure if it was a feeling that she should get used to. Marinette could still vividly remember seeing Jason’s bruised and bloodied face beneath his helmet. Jason stood up and walked over to the fridge, looking for ice to dull the swelling on his face.

“Not with that name,” Jason grumbled, not entirely sure if Marinette was willing to stay after their argument. Someday, somehow, he would tell her the full story of what happened to him. Right now, that was a whole Pandora’s Box that he just wasn’t prepared to open. Nestled at the bottom of that box was hope, a hope that no one else would meet that same fate.

“...Lucky Shot?” Marinette suggested as she carried Tikki over to the sofa and sat down. Both Jason and Roy looked up, it made some sense, seeing as they both used projectiles and she had her lucky charms. Jason tentatively made his way back to the sofa, ice pack in hand.

“Sounds better than ‘Red Arse Bug’.” Jason remarked, as he sat back down.

“Well, let’s see if our little adventure made the news” Roy said, as he reached for the TV remote. Jason tuned out Vicki Vale’s voice as she reported on the fight that took place at the Iceberg Lounge.

As Roy slept at their feet, Jason knew if they were going to continue working together as a team, they couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.

“Hey Marinette.” Jason speaks softly. Marinette's ears perk in surprise, hearing speak her name for the first time. “I’m sorry, for what I said and how we treated you. You’re right.” He gestures to the sleeping Roy on the floor, “Both of us started out as sidekicks, we both grew up in the shadows of Batman and Green Arrow. Both old men with impossibly high standards, everything we did was never enough.” Marinette listened intently as she shuffled closer to him on the sofa. “We’ve both been to hell and back, Marinette. Literally in my case.” he explained, Marinette glanced down at Tikki for a moment, as if silently asking if her magic was somehow involved in this. “But always remember, we have each other’s backs, just like The Three Musketeers.” Jason told her, Marinette giggles at his literary reference.

“Roy’s Porthos, you’re Aramis, I guess that makes me D’Artagnan.” Marinette chimes. Jason loved to see that hopeful smile on her face. What scared him the most was the idea that something or someone would try and take that away from her. They couldn’t keep treating her like glass, and they couldn’t keep treating her like a sidekick if they wanted to keep her from making their mistakes. They were all going to fight like hell to make sure this world didn’t break her the way it broke them. Marinette leaned in close and rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her calm even breathing, fanning his neck as she slept peacefully at his side.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat #ml x dc

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ehud1564 · 3 years ago

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The Dragon's early awakening

Introduction, part 1

Summary: Kagami joins Fransua Dupont Highschool. Meaning for Marinette that a new girl is in Adrien’s general field of view, and in front of Marinette. How will she react to it? Will she and Kagami be friends? Will she learn a lesson?

Also posted on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13926798/1/The-Dragon-s-early-awakening

And here's the google doc I'm working on so you can see how I'm progressing: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18T5_-_GYRtF940AJAzyJpT-t6uVQUQyCyyu3EcFeExc/edit?usp=sharing

Kagami woke up at 6:30 AM. She immediately got up from her bed, heading to the shower. Her mind was racing with meaningless thoughts, as it always was in the morning. She was awake enough to shower but not much else. She had a quick shower and quickly got dressed. After this preparation Kagami sat down on her bed and started mentally preparing for the day ahead of her.

Today is her first day in a new school. After she managed to join Mr. Darjencourt’s fencing group, her mother signed her up to a school and bought them a house. It seems they will be moving to Paris permanently.

Her mother was rich enough that they could spontaneously move to Paris, and still keep their house in Japan. Kagami didn’t know how her mother was so rich. She knew her family was always known as rich and famous. But she wasn’t sure how they got there or what they did except fencing.

She knew that while her mother could own multiple houses, most people could not. Some people couldn’t even have one house. She made sure to donate all the money she can get hold off. But it wasn’t much. She was very limited in what she could get. She tried to sell one of the house decorations once, thinking her mother wouldn’t notice because of her blindness. She got beaten and heavily scolded. Since then she never tried selling anything her mother owned. She tried selling her fencing equipment and got a similar result.

Her alarm clock signaled it’s time for breakfast. The personal chef made her a simple meal of Eggs on whole wheat toast, and gave her some yogurt and a few fruits. Kagami made sure to thank him, but mostly focused on her thoughts.

There is one person she knows in Fransua Dupont. And that is Adrien Agreste. The fencer she had to defeat in order to join the group. She hopes she’ll be able to make more friends. But she could only hope.

After eating her breakfast, She put on a coat and took out her bag to go for a morning jog, packing extra clothes in her bag to change. She went through the jog and kept trying to mentally prepare herself.

She ran through different scenarios through what could be when she gets to school. She knew the classes in Fransua Dupont were small. Small enough for her to be very noticeable, but big enough to be very draining to Kagami.

Kagami was never good at interacting with other people. She found interacting with a few people at once hard and draining.

After 15 minutes of running, she reached the school and went to her class. She sat down at a table, and started reviewing her schedule. She was completely alone in the class, having reached the school so early, 45 minutes before the first period started.

She checked her schedule again and reviewed the lesson she had for today. Even though her mother is pretty strict, she doesn't care about Kagami’s grades much. She only sees school as a waste of time for Kagami. Because of that Kagami doesn't work too hard in school, and it doesn't cause her stress.

Kagami is mostly a source of rest and fun for Kagami. Even if she isn’t good at the subject, she can take her time. And it gives her time without her mother. She likes being without her mother. No expectation, she doesn't have to be perfect.

It’s not that she didn’t like her mother. But being next to her makes her miserable. It was why she woke up at 6:30, to get out of the house before her mother woke up.

A student has arrived to the class. He wore a green shirt and glasses. “Oh, hello.”. Kagami replied “Hi” with an awkward smile.”Are you searching for a place to be alone? If so, I’ll recommend you use the library. I have a lesson here soon.” The student asked. “No, this is my homeroom class. Though I appreciate the suggestion. I’m new here so...”

“A new student! Nice to meet you! My name is Max Kante!” He put his hand forward. “Kagami Tsurugi. I apologize but I do not shake hands.” She said. “That’s OK. So what school are you from?”

“I’ve been homeschooled for a while, and I’ve been through plenty of schools.” Kagami replied, fishing in her mind to see if she remembers the last school she was in. “Well that’s interesting! Why were you moving?” Max tried to pull a conversation. “Me and my mother are looking for a fencing school for me. We’ve been through plenty of schools, but we haven’t found one that proved a challenge. That’s why we came here. I now learn Fencing in Mr. Darjencourt’s group, which runs in the Gym of this school, led by Mr. D'argencourt.”

“Ooh nice! Why here specifically?” Max questioned, proud for developing a conversation. “Well we were told this place was the best. And it held out better than the others.” Kagami responded. “Not by much though”.

A new student entered the class room, he wore a red Jacket and a few Sweatbands. “Hi Max! Hi… I don’t think we’ve met!” Kim called excitedly.

“This is Kagami Tsurugi! She’s a new student in our classroom!” Max filled him in.

“Hi.” she called.

“I’m Kim!, very nice to meet you!!” He gives her his hand, which she refuses. “You too Kim”.

“So you fence! That’s a sport right?” Kim asked excitedly. “Yes.” Kagami replied. “Awesome! Another Athlete!! Woo!!! That’s so cool!!” Kim cheered.

“Yeah,” She said awkwardly. She doesn't know how to handle someone as excited and friendly as Kim. No mental preparation prepared her for that. She should have got there later. Maybe she would have been more prepared if she didn’t get before everyone.

Max and Kim started conversing between themselves thankfully. Max was talking about a video game with Kim. Kagami opened her phone to the Making friend apps, trying to figure out what she is going to do.

A new student entered the class, a red head who wore an orange shirt, holding a sketchbook. She prayed he would leave her alone and he did. Instead he began sketching. How much time was left before class? She checked her phone and it was much more than she expected. She didn’t properly appreciate how bad it will be to get to class so early.

If only she could distract herself. But she can’t and she feels very awkward. She wonders what the boy is drawing. She loves to draw, but asking him seems very risky. She thought she might draw, but the room dosen’t feel private enough for that.

Another student entered the room. A girl with purple highlights in her hair. She sat down behind Max, making no comments of her.

Soon later a group of 4 people entered the room. A boy who wore a black shirt with a skull on it, a girl with a green sweater with pins on it,A girl with pink hair and a green pattern throughout her sleeves, and a blonde girl wearing a pink dress. “Oh hello! Nice to meet you!! I’m rose!!” The blonde girl cheered enthusiastically.

“You’re kind of in my seat” Said the boy wearing a skull sign.

“Yeah sure sorry I’ll go.” Kagami got up and sat one chair ahead of the chair she was in.

“So what’s your name?” Asked the girl with the pins. “I am Mylene”

“Ivan” the boy added.

“I’m Alix” Said the girl with pink hair.

“Hello. My name is Kagami.”

“Nice to meet you Kagami!” Rose cheered before going to sit next to the girl with highlights in her hair.

“A little warning, this seat also belongs to someone. The only available places are next to Nathaniel, and next to me.” Said Ivan, pointing to the sketching boy.

“Hmm?” Nathaniel hums as the sound of his name.

“Do not sit next to nathaniel. Nathaniel is terrible!” Alix said loudly.

“I’m right here. I can hear you.” Nathaniel said despretly.

“Yeah that’s part of the point!” Alix shouted at him.

“What did he do?” Kagami asked, somewhat curious. What could have caused such a reaction.

“He made a comic of him saving one of our classmates from Akumas, and then of that classmate falling in love with him in that comic. The classmate knew none of it and didn’t give him any permission.” Ivan explained.

"Then he made a comic of Ladybug falling in love with an Akumatized version of him!" Kim added.

“That’s bad.” Kagami replied. “What’s an Akuma? And who's Ladybug?” She asked.

“You’re new in town?” questioned Millene.

“Somewhat, yes.” Kagami Answered.

“Wait just one minute!” Max said and opened his phone. After a few seconds of messing with it, he said "Come here!”. Kagami went to stand next to him and he gave him her phone.

“She explains it better than any of us can! I’d say she’s somewhat the expert." Alix added seeing the video. Mylene and Alix went to talk in their seet, and Ivan opened his own phone in his seat.

Kagami pressed play, and the video started. There was a short musical intro, and then a girl appeared on screen. She wore glasses and had red hair. “What’s up, Peeps! It’s Alya Cesire, bringing you the one and only Ladyblog! If you're planning to move to Paris, this video is a must watch!” The girl in the Video, Alya, said with excitement.

I already moved. Maybe I should have done my homework. Kagami thought to herself. to be fair, I didn't think we'd actually move here.

“If you ever visit Paris, most likely you’ll come across an Akumatized supervillain.” Alya said as she lost her enthusiasm.3 pictures of people appeared on screen. One girl with dark Red hair and the Wireless symbol on a black shirt labeled “Lady Wifi”. Another, a muscled man wearing a black shirt and golden jewelry Labeled “The Pharaoh”. The last one, A woman with green skin and red hair Labeled “Befana”.

“Akumatized villains, often shortened to just Akumas, are created when someone feels an extreme negative emotion. When you experience an extreme negative emotion in Paris, A supervillain named Hawk Moth can send an Akuma-” A picture of a black butterfly appeared on screen ”'-a corrupted butterfly, to you. The butterfly can enter an Object of yours, and will allow Hawkmoth to speak to you and corrupt you. He will give you superpowers, and his corruption will make you want to hurt others.”

“But, when Hawkmoth first Attacked, two heroes came to save us!” Alya said, regaining her excitement. And a picture of two people appeared on screen. One was wearing A red bodysuit with Polka dots, and was Labeled “Ladybug”. The other wore a black suit and had a bell on his neck, and was labeled “Chat Noir”.

Kagami remembers Ladybug. She met her in the Louvre after… Something... happened. Probably something that has something to do with an Akumatized Villain then. That explains it somewhat.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir rose to fight Hawkmoth, they can save the Akumatized people, release the butterflies from Hawkmoth’s control, and undo the Damage the Akuma did to Paris.” A clip of Ladybug throwing a parachute with the same pattern as her suit plays. It turns into a swirl of Ladybugs all over the place, who started fixing things.

Neet

“Since then, Hawkmoth is trying to get the Heroes’ Jewelry. That became the main target of most of his Akumatized villains. We’re not sure what he can do with them, though I have several theories on my Ladyblog!” Alya explained.

"If you decide to move to Paris anyway, or if you’re interested in Any more detailed explanation, consider giving my Ladyblog a visit! It has everything you need to know, and so much more! For example, the ladyblog has: Akuma Alerts, a Chat to talk to people close to the fight, clips from past fights, clips from current fights if I happen to be there, Personal theories and so much more! Support me on Patreon! Hope I’ll see you on the Ladyblog! Ladyblogger out!” Three links appeared on the videos, one to her Patreon, one to the Ladyblog, and another to the introduction page.

“So, any Questions?” Max asked Kagami.

“I’m not sure yet.” Kagami answered hesitantly, and gave him his phone back..

‘Well I’ll send a link to the Ladyblog, so you can learn more on your own. I’m sure you can also Ask Alya yourself, if you have any questions!” Max said.

ha? she thought.

“Ask me what?” The girl from the Video, Alya, was standing in the door, with a boy wearing a blue shirt with an eye on it, and had earphones hanging on his neck.

oh. She also goes here.

“Hi Alya! We have a new student coming from out of town! So we showed her your video to show her what are Akumas!!” Kim said, as Alya walked towards her.

“Neet!” Alya said, and turned to Kagami. “Hi. I’m Alya. So where are you from?”

“I'm from Japan."

"Oh nice!! Why did you move?"

"For Darjencourt's fencing team."

"Ooh you're a fencer?! That's so cool!! You're probably very serious if you moved just for a fencing group. So are you happy with the group?" Alya asked with excitement.

As Alya and Kagami started their conversation, Max called to The boy “Hey Nino! I'm working on something new, do you wanna check it out?”.

“Hell yeah dude!! Coming right up!” Nino replied enthusiastically, and made his way to stand next to Max.

"It's OK. Better than most groups I've been too, but not great. I might have found someone that is equal to me." Kagami replied to Alya.

“What dose that mean? And who is that?” Alya asked.

Kagami started elaboratinh “This boy was the only one who had ever came close to defeating me. I have been through countless fencing schools, and no one has ever came as close as him. His name is Adrien Agreste, He told-"

“Why are you talking about my Adrikins?” A blonde girl wearing a yellow Jacket yelled at Kagami. Next to her stood a redhead girl wearing glasses and a sweater with purple green and black.

"Fuck off Chloe!!" Alya yelled at the blonde girl. The sudden swear took Kagami by complete surprise.

Her name is Chloe. It's starting to become harder to remember all of their names.

"The audacity! How dare you speak to me in such foul language!! Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!!" Chloe yelled at Alya.

"Anyway, you loser need to stay away from MY Adrikins" Chloe shouted at Kagami and placed her finger on Kagami's chest.

That girl knows Adrien

Kagami wanted to knock Chloe at a table. She doesn't handle being touched well. But she doesn't want to get in trouble. The last time a similar event happened, Kagami couldn't be at school for two full weeks. She had to spend them all with her mother, who put her under very intense training. She tried her best to ignore her.

"Oh shut up. You're the only loser here Adrien isn't yours and you're harassing the new student. Go away or I'll make you!" Alya stepped in.

The door opened and in came Adrien? So they are in the same class. Now she knows that everyone are friendly enough and she won't need him. But they're too friendly, and Kagami has somewhat of a problem dealing with their energy. She supposed she'll adjust eventually. If she can stay here long enough.

"Adrikins! This new loser was talking about you!! Put her in her place." Chloe told Adrien in her sweet voice.

"Oh, Hi Kagami. Didn't know you were moving to the same class as I am."

"Hi." She said unenthusiastically.

"Oh, your name is Kagami! I admit I forgot to ask! Sorry!" Alya apologized to Kagami. "That's a really nice name! What are you named after?"

"Hello everyone! How are you this day?" A red haired lady with a cyan coloured jacket. Said standing next to the teacher's table.

"Talk to you later Kagami!" Alya said sitting in the seat ahead of Ivand.

"I'm here! I'm here!" A girl with blue hair and a gray jacket ran through the door. Kagami recognised that girl as Adrien's friend, who also tried out to the fencing group, and greatly misjudged her.

She shouldn't have been given responsibility as a referee. She did what she could with what she knew. In retrospect, it wasn’t her fault.

"Hello Marinette you're right on time! I was just about to introduce the new student!" Mrs Bustier said to the girl as she went to sit. Alya went to sit next to her, and Nino went to the seat ahead of Alya. Adrien sat next to him.

"Please be a dear and come here Kagami" Kagami obliged to The teacher's request. “This is our new student, Kagami Tsurugi! She came to us from Japan, for a fencing group! I hope we all give her a nice welcome! I am Caline Bustier, and you can call me Mrs. Bustier.”

Mrs. Bustier. That’s her name.

“Sit next to Ivan please! Ivan, please raise your hand so Kagami will know who you are.” Ivan raised his hand. Kagami already knew who he was. She went to the seet to his right. She would have much preferred to sit closer to the forng. She sat down next to him and took out her glasses.

A literature lesson has started. They started studying a new piece, so Kagami could follow the less. Kagami was not good at reading between the lines, and understanding Metaphors. She wrote everything down on her tablet.

The lesson felt longer than she expected it to feel. But eventually it ended. They had a short breakfast break. "Catch you later Marinette!" Alya told and got up from her seat. Kagami took out an apple from her bag and ate it slowly.

"Hey Kagami, want to go with me to the Cafeteria?" Alya asked. "I still have a lot to talk to you about! And alot to ask you!"

Kagami stood up and said "Lead the way please Alya." Knowing where the Cafeteria is might come handy. Kagami isn't planning to buy food from the Cafeteria,she preferred to bring food from home. That way, she'll be able to donate more of her allowance. She started following Alya, as she led her to the Cafeteria.

"Give me your phone number so I can add you to the class group chat." Kagami gave Alya her number, and she saved her number. She fiddled with her phone a little, and Kagami got a notification.

"Well, where were we before the lesson? Oh yes! You said you tried a lot of fencing terms, but they disappointed you? Which ones did you try into?” Alya initiated a conversation.

“A few. We’ve tried pretty much every famously good fencing school there was. It's wierd that the one we settled on was running on a school's gym." Kagami responded and took another bite off her apple.

"Here we are, the Cafeteria! Do you want to buy something?" Alys asked Kagami as she stood in line.

"No thank you. I ate breakfast and I brought food from home." She responded. She took another bite and she was getting close to finish the apple. She stood next to Alya in line.

"You can go sit at a table if you want! You don't have to stay waiting with me!" She didn't know where or why to sit.

"Kagami! Hi!" Adrien called out to her. "I have something to talk to you about. Can we go to the library for a few minutes?"

The library. Max said it's a good place to be alone, and seeing places of the school is good.

But what did Adrien want to talk to her about? That sounds weird.

"OK. Lead the way." Adrien grabbed her hand, and started leading her. She didn't feel great with that. But she didn't know how to politely ask him to let go.

Marinette watched the scene taking place in front of her from her table. Adrien came up to Kagami and started dragging her somewhere. She slowly stood out and followed them, doing her best to stay hidden. She had to hear what they were talking about. She couldn’t let Adrien be alone with Kagami. She followed them to the library, and hid behind a bookshelf.

"Since your new here at school, I thought we'd review the material you missed!" Adrien said to Kagami. His father told him he intends to do business with Kagami's mother, and so he has to be Kagami's friend.

"Alright. So what should we review than?" Kagami responded. She wasn't sure they had time for that, the first break wasn't that long.

"Since the next lesson is Math, we should review it first. There'll be an Algebra test next lesson, but I don't know if you will take it. Since you're a new student and all. But let's start with Algebra incase you do!" Adrien responded and took out his Algebra book. "Take out your Algebra book and let's begin!" They started reviewing the material.

Kagami was quite good at Algebra, and she was aware of that. Adrien was impressed with her but she thought the way he was impressed was weird. He was impressed with everything and made her break down the exercises to too many small steps. As if she can't make larger steps. Like she's a child who's expected to know absolutely nothing about Algebra. She knew Algebra damn it! She didn't like it very much. Maybe she'd find someone else to review the material with her.

Adrien was surprised with Kagami's skill, but was unimpressed. He pretended to be though, pretended to be proud of her so she would like him. He was honestly bored out of his mind.

Marinette was in terror watching the study session. Kagami turned out to be great at Algebra and it seemed Adrien was very impressed! Almost as if he's… flirting? This can't be happening!!!!! She started spiralising.

She had to do something about her. Something to keep her away from her Adrien. Something. But what?

If she could get her away from the school, than she'll leave Adrien alone. Or at least she won't be in front of her. She can try and get her in trouble with the school.

For that she'll need to impersonate her, and the best way to do that. Was to get her phone.

Marinette used the same trick as she did with Lila. She used a bookcart to get close enough to them slowly, and than threw a few books at a shelf to distract them. She had enough time for her to get Kagami's phone, hide it in her perse, and stand us from under the table. She exchanged greetings with Adrien and went away.

She hid behind another shelf of books. Tikki came out from her perse close to her ear and asked whispering "Marinette, why did you take her phone?"

"I need to use it to get her away from Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed.

"But why? What's wrong with her being next to Adrien?" Tikki continued to question. She did somewhat know why. But if Marinette will confess it, maybe she'll see reason. Or hear how she sounds like.

"Look at her! She's so smart and pretty, and she's a good fencer! If I don't do anything about it, Adrien will fall in love with her for sure! I have to do something about it!!" Marinette said anxiously.

Tikki facepalmed and shook her head. The bell rang, and Tikki flew into Marinette's bag.

She's supposed to have an Algebra test now.

That's it! The test! She could convince the Teacher Kagami cheated on the test!! Than Kagami will be off the school for sure, and Adrien will not fall for her!

Marinette went to the classroom And sat down in her seet. Adrien and Kagami already arrived before her. The teacher walked in after Marinette. She was a tall white skinned girl with black hair. She wore a black jacket on a white shirt, and a pair of blue Jeans, black glasses, and black shoes.

“Good morning! are you all Ready for the test?” The teacher asked.

“Not at all Mrs. Shamai.” Nino replied. Nino Lahife was a fairly average student. He was OK at Math, his grades were never good, but never raised concerns. He was pretty much OK in all fields equally.

"Don't worry Nino! I'm sure you'll do great!" Alya cheered him on. Alya Cesire was not a good student, but Mrs. Shamai really appreciated her, mainly because of the Ladyblog. If Alya spent half as much on school as she does on the Ladyblog, she'd probably be the best student in class, Maybe even the school. But than, Paris wouldn't have the Ladyblog. And that'd be a catastrophe for everyone.

So she sometimes cheats the system a little in Alya's favour. She lets her get away with not doing homework, she judges her tests softer. Alya is doing so much for Paris, so she does that for her.

"Hey Mrs." A student called. She doesn't recognize her. Oh! She's probably the new student.

"Hello there! Are you new? My name is Michal Shamai! And what's yours?" Well what is she going to do with her now. Obviously she can't take the test. She'll have to speak to her after class to see how much she knows and schedule private lessons to cover what she doesn't.

"My name is Kagami Tsurugi." Kagami replied trying to stand out.

"Well it's lovely to meat you Kagami! We have a test today, but you'll take it another time. Take one test so you can see what we learned so far and you can go on break. I'll need to talk you after the test, OK?" Michal told Kagami, doing her best to be bright and accepting.

"OK." Kagami took a copy of the test, and left.

Marinette found that pleasing. Kagami now has the means to cheat. If only she could get out, she could send the answers to the test from Kagami's phone, and make everyone think it's Kagami.

"Everyone turn of your phones. If you need to have it on, put it on my desk." Adrien and Max stood up and put their phone on her desk.

Adrien always needed to have his phone on and ready to take calls. She knows he has a busy life and was expected to disappear any minute.

As a student, he was a good student. She didn't like him, cause he was a rich boy. But she couldn't deny that his grades were always good. From what she seems of him, it's not like he has a knack for it. It seems he just has good teachers and high expectations.

Max used to give his phones to her on tests, to avoid distractions as he once told her. It was always off. He was a good student, he had quite a skill for Algebra. She liked him too, he was very nice.

They both sat down and Michal gave out the tests one by one. By her orders everyone turned over the test and started.

Marinette started the test, and started doing it as fast she could. Skipping questions, not really doing everything. After ten minutes, she stood up and gave Mrs. Shamai the test.

"Are you sure Marinette?" Mrs. Shamai asked her. Marinette was very bad at Algebra, and got easily confused. Her grades were very low. Watching her give the test so early means she probably gave up. That felt wrong with her.

"Positive!" Marinette said.

"Please try more." Mrs. Shamai requested. She saw the test and it was almost empty. "If you really can't, we can schedule a private lesson and go over it. Ok?"

Marinette knew she couldn't escape that. Maybe if she'll take it, she'll have an opportunity to raise her grade. "OK" she answered and got out of the classroom.

It was time for her to execute her plan. She started first by going to the Teacher's Lounge, and secretly looking in Mrs. Shamai's locker. She found another copy of the test and started searching for Kagami. Fortunately she found her in the same table she had the study session with Adrien.

She used one of the free algebra apps and inputted the questions from the test. She opened Kagami's phone. Who'd she send the answers to? Everyone. The more the better, the more chance of Mrs. Shamai finding it.

She copied the first answer into the message and sent. She patiently waited, checking every chat window if the message was read. Most of them haven't received the message, but Adrien received it, so she stuck to him. She sent the second message to everyone again, and waited patiently again.

She did it again. Now the message was shown as read. She had to act quickly. She opened YouTube through the browser on Kagami's phone, played Wind Up God from Pandora Voxx on full volume, and made her escape. She knew the song only started five seconds in the video, so she could have time to escape.

Kagami suddenly heard a very loud noise. She went to check it and found a phone playing a song. Her phone. She turned it off. How did get there? How did she not notice it was lost? She didn't think she took it out from her bag. Why was it playing that song? Was it stolen?

Mrs. Shamai was watching the class, when Adrien’s phone got a notification. She saw how everyone got distracted. Adrien can only check his phone privately if he gets a phone call. Meaning it’s very urgent. If that happens, he will leave for the day and will do the test another time.

Adrien got another notification. And another notification. “Adrien make the notifications stop. If you have to check it, show it to me so I know you don’t cheat.”

Adrien stood up and opened the phone so both he and Mrs. Shamai could see it. He got a message from Kagami? He opened the message and saw it’s conents. Mrs. Shamai gasped, and Adrien tried explaining he didn't try to cheat.

“I didn’t try to cheat! I promise! It’s not my fault! Please don’t fail me.” He begged Mrs. Shamai.

“Leave it for the principal.” Mrs. Shamai said. She called the principal and told him what happened.

Kagami heard a voice calling “Kagami Tsurugi to the principal's office”. That sounds very bad. She started spiralizing. That was very very bad.

In a different place, Hawkmoth was rejoicing. "I can feel it. The anxiety and distress of a girl who might lose everything." A butterfly landed in his hand, and he corrupted it. "Fly away my little Akuma! Wait for her anxiety to blow up, and evilise her!!"

Marinette had done it! She managed to execute her plan, and run away undetected! Now Kagami will stay away from Adrien for sure! In the corner of her eye, she saw a black butterfly. “An Akuma? Who might it be for?” She asked out loud.

“You know exactly who it’s for Marinette!!” Tikki said with anger. Obviously, she was referring to Kagami.

“Oh Please come on. There’s a Math test today. Basically everyone is upset. It can be for anyone.” Marinette said annoyed, not fully grasping the effect she had on Kagami. “We better transform.” Marinette ran to the bathroom which were luckily empty. “Tikki Spots on!”

Kagami didn’t know where the principal office was, so she had to ask many people for directions. But eventually she found it and entered to find Adrien, Mrs. Shamai, and someone else. Probably the principal.

“Young Mrs. you’re in great trouble!” He yelled at her. Adrien looked at her in a way she couldn't decipher. Mrs. Shamai was glaring. What did she do to deserve this? Why were they so angry at her? She looked down in shame.

The Akuma following Kagami had settled hiding behind her, waiting for a command from Hawkmoth.

"What happened?" Kagami asked trying to hold back tears.

"You know exactly what you've done young lady! You thought we wouldn't catch you? But we did! Mrs. Shamai saw what you sent to Adrien." The principal replied mockingly. What messages? She didn't even have his number! Was her phone stolen? Oh no! She'll get in so much trouble!

"I never sent Adrien anything!" Kagami said, panicking.

"That won't work on us now. We have evidence. Helping someone cheat? On your first day?How dare you! We are going to call your mother!" The principal told her.

Hawkmoth felt a very sudden increase in Kagami's negative feelings. "Catch her my Akuma!". The Akuma obeyed and entered Kagami's phone, clutched in her hand. Kagami's sadness and fear started to transform into burning wrath.

Adrien made a quick escape, and ran away to the Bathroom.

"Come on, can't we sit this one out? You have a Math test! And I have some perfect cheese to indulge in!" Plagg started complaining.

"No time for Cheese! Plagg, Claws Out!"

"Elemental, I am Hawkmoth! This thief thinks he can destroy your world? Well I'm giving you the power to break their world! And everyone's world! All I ask in return is Ladybug's and Cat Noir's Miraculous! Will you help me?" Hawkmoth said in his usual dramatic fashion.

"Yes, Hawkmoth." With that, Kagami became wrapped in purple, and the Principal and the teacher scrambled to escape.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #kagami tsurugi #Max Kante #alya cesaire #MLB #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alix kubdel #long post

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shadowthrone-ammanas · 4 years ago

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‘Life’ as a Ghost Chapter One: Bow

The continuation of ‘Ghost Kid’ is here at last! I don’t know how often I’m gonna update it but it’s a thing now. As stated before, it’s gonna be one shots so don’t expect a longform story like the first one was.

I refer to Hat Kid as 'Spensa' here because obviously that's what Bow is gonna think of her as and call her. My headcanon name for Bow is Beauregard which shortens to Bow as a nickname and thus why she's still Bow.

It took a long time but Bow had finally done it! She’d found Spensa’s ship! It was on a planet that she wasn’t even supposed to have stopped at. Bow had only found it because it was vaguely on the way back home from where Spensa was supposed to have been. A lot of it had to do with just being lucky though because it was on the planet itself, making it harder to detect. But even better than that luck was that according to the readings on Bow’s ship, it was intact, meaning Spensa was alive! That was honestly a miracle; Bow had insisted on being the one do this particular mission thinking it’d end with her learning how Spensa had died. Not a pleasant thing to find but most people wouldn’t have bothered to investigate the cause of the death and Bow had wanted to know for closure. Finding out that Spensa was actually most likely alive was so much better.

Now Bow was supposed to contact Homebase to relay the coordinates before going to investigate but… something was fishy here. If Spensa’s ship was intact, that could only mean she’d landed it there, right? Why would she have done that? And more importantly why hadn’t she returned home since she obviously could? There was something going on here and it might be something Homebase would disapprove of and thus it was best not to contact them until Bow knew the exact situation.

She settled her ship into the planet’s orbit – if need be, she’d edit the log of its coordinates later to make it look like she’d never been here. She then pulled out her phone and with a few quick taps was beaming down to the planet’s surface as close to Spensa’s ship as her own ship could land her.

She landed in a dead forest in a clearing in front of a large hollow tree. It was dark and rather spooky looking, the exact kind of place Spensa would love so it was honestly no surprise that her ship was here. Bow would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it too though; they were both weird like that.

Tapping her bow pointed her towards Spensa’s ship; off and to the left. Too excited to finally see her friend again to bother with walking, she took off at steady jog towards it.

There had to be a reason Spensa hadn’t returned, but what was it? She hadn’t turned traitor, had she? … If so, then by finding her, Bow would have to as well. … That honestly didn’t bother her much, she cared more about having a space ship she could fly than being loyal to the people who gave it to her. Of course, if she and/or Spensa got caught they’d be brought back home and executed. What were the chances of that happening though? … Considering the fact that Bow had found Spensa’s ship it definitely wasn’t zero percent.

Well, if need be Bow could return home, say she’d found Spensa’s ship damaged beyond repair and then mysteriously vanish to come back and hang with Spensa again. If she had turned traitor of course. Bow shouldn’t be planning on what to do next until…

A creepy giggle that sent a shiver down Bow’s spine came from right behind her. She slid to an abrupt halt, turning to see nothing there. That was odd. She wasn’t afraid though… not much anyway. Something was watching her from the shadows, she could feel it. … If only she’d thought to bring a weapon with her.

“Hello?” she said because maybe whatever it was wasn’t…

“Oh my gosh Bow, it is you!”

She snapped around just in time to see a ghost rushing towards her. Before she could react, it was hugging her. … Well at least it was friendly but what was going on? And… Bow’s translator wasn’t even on right now, how was a being from another planet speaking her language?

“When I decided to stay, I thought I’d never see you again!” The ghost said as she pulled back at last to smile at Bow. “But here you are!” … Wait a minute…

“Spensa?” Bow almost couldn’t believe her eyes but… the ghost looked an awful lot like Spensa and her voice was very similar too, only difference really as that it was a tad echoey. The only thing that was off was that she was a ghost.

“Yep, it’s me!” She smiled wide.

“But… you’re a ghost? You died?!” That wasn’t what Bow wanted to find. “This is a joke, right?” It was a bit extreme but it was certainly the kind of joke Spensa would pull if she had the means to make herself look and sound like a ghost.

“Uh…” Spensa grimaced and looked away. “No, it’s not a joke. I’m dead and a ghost. It’s… really not that bad though.” She smiled again as she looked back up at Bow. “Well, at first it was, but the more power I gain, the more not bad it becomes. And like… now that you’re here everything’s good again!”

Well… becoming a ghost was better than not becoming one. Even if ghosts weren’t looked at fondly by most people, Bow had never fully understood why. It was still Spensa, just… as a ghost now. That was better than finding her dead and not around anymore. … It still meant she died though.

“Can I ask how… it happened?” That wasn’t rude, was it? Probably was but Bow wanted to know.

“Someone who I used think was a friend caused my ship to crash while we were both on it. She survived which is still a load of bullshit but whatever I guess, lucky her.” She frowned, crossing her arms before shaking it off. “But I managed to repair the ship and being a ghost really ain’t that bad once you get used to it so I don’t really care anymore.”

“Well… I’m happy to see you again.” Bow hugged her, trying her best not to be bothered by how cold and… odd she felt now. She was still Spensa though and therefore she was still Bow’s friend and that’s all that mattered.

“You’re so warm.” Spensa squeezed her tight. “Why are you here though?” she asked as they withdrew.

“I’m looking for you. I insisted on being the one to search for your ship to either salvage it or to bring you back home. I assume you’re not going back though, are you?” Because if she’d wanted to she would’ve, ghost or not.

“Nope, this is my home now. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” It was certainly very spooky and dark, the exact kind of things she liked. And now that she was a ghost, she fit right in. “But speaking of that, you have to meet my mentor, he’s the best. … He’s also maybe kind of my dad? I don’t really know though because I’ve never had a dad before so I don’t really know what they’re like. So, don’t tell him I told you he’s my dad, it’s like an awkward subject for him… me too honestly. But let’s go meet him!” She grabbed Bow’s arm and started dragging her back the way she’d come.

It wasn’t long before they reached the clearing with the big tree again. Spensa paused to check inside, apparently not finding what she was looking for because she grabbed Bow’s wrist again and started down a different path. Not far down it Spensa pulled her off the path to walk alongside it instead.

“There’s a trap there,” she explained. “It’s one of mine though so tripping it won’t summon…” she said a word in a language Bow didn’t understand, presumably her mentor’s name. “I’ll show you it later though.”

With her free hand, Bow pulled out her magic translator and put it in her ear. The last thing she wanted was to meet Spensa’s mentor and not be able to understand him. He had to be quite something if Spensa looked up to him. … What that something might be was hard to guess though because Spensa wasn’t known for being the most level person around.

Eventually they reached another clearing that seemed to be a village; there were little house made from trees by a little river. Little fellows that looked kind of like stuffed toys with glowing faces milled about the place. There was also a large ghost in the center speaking to a small group of them.

“Snatcher!” Spensa called, speaking a different language now as increased their pace towards him.

The big ghost looked at her and then at Bow. “Uh… kiddo, have you forgotten how soul contracts are supposed to work? You’re supposed to make her sign the piece of paper that gives you her soul.”

“This is Bow,” Spensa replied. “She was my only friend back at the school and now she’s here because she came looking for me. And Bow, this is Snatcher. He’s my mentor. He taught me how to do all kinds of spooky ghost stuff and is helping with my magic as I get more powerful and stuff. He also helped me with all sorts of other things too.”

Unfortunately, the translator didn’t let Bow speak the language, just understand it, so all she could do for now was smile and wave in greeting. Like Spensa she was good with languages though so she should be able to pick it up fairly quickly assuming she stayed long enough.

“Great,” Snatcher said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just what I need, another feral alien child running around my forest.”

“Don’t worry, she’s not as bad as me. Not that that’s saying a whole lot but she’s cool and nice.”

Bow nodded, giving Snatcher another smile and a thumbs up. Since he was Spensa’s friend and mentor, she’d play nice and would endeavor to get along.

“If he ever says anything mean to you, ignore it, he doesn’t really mean it most of the time.” Spensa said, speaking to Bow now.

Snatcher scoffed. “Don’t spread lies kid, I’ve meant every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, totally.” Spensa nodded sarcastically, clearly not believing it. “Can I show her around the forest now? Show her the sights and introduce her to the Subconites and all that?” She linked her ghostly arm through Bow’s, pulling her closer.

“If it’ll get you leave me alone for a while, sure, go have fun.” Snatcher dismissed them with a wave noodle-like arm before vanishing all at once.

“This’ll be fun,” Spensa said, reverting back to their home language as she started guiding Bow elsewhere. “Subcon Forest is like the best place on the planet. Though I’ll have to introduce to my other friends too. Oh, and you’ll love the Metro. I’d tell you why but I want it to be surprise. I’m like… not allowed to go there anymore because there’s a powerful gang there and I kind of angered their leader but it’s whatever, I’m a ghost now so I can do what I want.”

“Sounds like something you’d do.” Bow was almost a little jealous, Spensa had been going on adventures and making friends while Bow had been increasingly worried that she was dead. Well, actually she was dead, but not gone and that’s what mattered most.

#My writing #ahit #A Hat In Time #ghost kid fic #Ghost kid #Dadcher #snatcher & hat kid #Bow & hat Kid

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bastogne-boys-blog · 5 years ago

Text

NyQuil

Pairing: George Luz x Reader

Warnings: none just fluff. not really edited

Word Count: 1503

Taglist: @gottapenny

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George knew that the prospect of sleep was far from guaranteed but that did not stop him from tossing and turning all throughout the night. He felt all drowsiness (along with most of his hope) leave his tightly closed eyes. George attempted laying on his stomach, back, and side but to no avail. There was no use. George Luz could not fall asleep.

Distressed, George's hand absentmindedly gravitated towards his wife sleeping soundly next to him. He slowly intertwined the locks of her hair in between his fingers like he was plucking a nylon stringed instrument. His hand grazed the surface of the goosebumps that were scattered like constellations across her skin and his chapped lips softly whispered in her ear. "Y/N, you awake?"

Y/N could feel the fragments of her dream fizzle and the reality of her bed sheets and George's voice set in. She sighed. The good night's sleep she seldom had was starting to circle the drain. "George, it's after midnight. Go to bed." Sealing the deal, Y/N turned her back to her husband and used the pillows to block out an impending retort.

"I've been trying to this whole time but no matter what I do, I just can't fall asleep. I've tried literally everything but nothing seems to be working."

Silence was the best, worst, and only reply he got, for Y/N was avid in the quest of regaining her dream. "Y/N? Y/N? Y/NNNNN?"

George exhaled. He didn't want to do it but the circumstances left him with no other option.

“Y/N, I don't know if you know this but you swallow an average of eight spiders a year and I just wanted you to know because I see a big one on your shoulder."

Y/N awoke with a start and hastily thrashed trying to swat the pretend insect so that her heart would stop beating a mile a minute. Her hands flew about wildly as she exclaimed "Get it off! Get it off!"

However, her efforts were abruptly halted as the shrill laughter of her lover cut through to her ears. George clutched his stomach, making no attempt to conceal the fact that he was the perpetrator of this heinous prank and found it absolutely priceless.

"George Luz, you are a national dipshit." She declared with a snit as her cheeks were covered in a sheen of color.

"Well, Ms. George Luz, I do try." He chuckled heartily and in asking for forgiveness, kissed the very same shoulder that fell victim to one of his usual pranks. "I had to get you up somehow."

Exasperated, Y/N rubbed her temples, for her patience was dwindling. "But why? Why did you have to wake me up?"

George's expression took an unexpected softening. "I already told you, Y/N. I can't sleep at all and it's making me frustrated. I'm sorry I woke you up but I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't this desperate."

Y/N sighed. There was those nights with nothing pleasant to offer that often haunted her poor husband. Nights that were unwavering with relentless nightmares or in this case, insomnia. "Have you tried reading? Or your breathing exercises?"

George solemnly nodded and rested his head on her chest, where it had layed many times before. "Yeah." he muttered.

"What about drinking some milk? That always seems to knock you out cold."

"I already looked but we ran out. Same with the NyQuil. "

Y/N felt ashamed of her earlier outburst because it seemed all of the misfortunes were happening all at once for George. He felt disheartened and in his time of need, she raised her voice at him. The guilt loomed over her shoulder like a watchful shadow, critical of the next move she was about to make.

"George... how about I go to the 7-11 that's down the road and get you some NyQuil?"

Her husband lifted his head, allowing the light that was departing from the moon to illuminate his affable features. In agreement with his emotions, his brows rose and his eyes widened in shock. "Y/N, are you nuts?"

Y/N shrugged. "Well, I have to be since I'm married to you."

"Touchè. But seriously, it's two in the morning. My love, I can't have you do that for me."

Y/N could admit that her actions were instantaneous and lacked careful thought but her generosity outweighed the left side of her brain. "Sweetheart, I want to do this. I feel a little bad for how I ignored you earlier and I want to make it up to you." Reaffirming her decision, Y/N kissed his lips and her fingertips delicately brushed the surface of his cheeks.

"Y/N, you didn't make me upset. I'm not angry at all. I understand why you ignored me; I can be a bit annoying especially at two am. Just, please don't go to the store for me. I'll be fine."

Y/N smirked. "It appears we have reached a stalemate. But y'know what helps when that happens?"

"What?"

"NyQuil."

"There's really no talking you out of this, huh?"

"Nope." Y/N slid out from under the duvet and pulled her robe on her shoulders. George followed suit with an unnerved expression. "Wait, it's really late, sweetheart. It's dark and you don't know the kind of people that are out there."

"If you're so nervous just come with me."

George Luz could only scoff.

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

"George, we came here for one thing and one thing only. And that thing is NyQuil so put the hershy bar down."

"Alright. Alright. I'm putting it back."

Dressed in nothing but a robe to cover their pajamas, George Luz had dutifully followed his wife out into a nearby 7-11. The journey was less than ideal. It was cold and the street lamps were their only source of light. But regardless, they reached the convenience store and were greeted with an incredulous look from the clerk, believing he had taken too many night shifts to actually convince himself that he was seeing a couple at this time of night. The speakers played cheesy 80s love songs and the overhead, artificial lights were nearing the end of their spell as they flickered on and off.

Y/N searched every aisle, every shelf and rack but unfortunately came up short. It also didn't help that her husband decided now was a good time more than ever to try out all the pick up lines and puns under his belt.

"Are you from Japan? Because I'm trying to get in Japanties."

"You're name must be Coca-Cola because you're so-da-licious."

"If I had a garden, I'd put your tulips and my tulips together."

George's pleasantries were all but pleasing to the impatient girl. Each minute that passed subsequently became minutes that ticked away at the growing time bomb in her chest. Becoming dissatisfied with the lack of over-the-counter drugs the 7-11 had in their stock, Y/N dragged her husband by the collar of his robe to the next convenience store. However, at this store (and the third and fourth) they were faced with the same result. The hands of her watch traveled so quickly she couldn't keep up. The hours grew long and her forbearance shortened.

Y/N accepted defeat. She didn't want to but she did. Y/N and George returned home just in time to see the sun peak through from the ground. "I guess I really fucked up our sleeping schedule." George chuckled as he set the house keys on the counter.

Y/N found no amusement in their failed pursuit. She collapsed on the sofa with a fed up attitude as the situation still vexed her. "Is NyQuil the holy grail or am I missing something? You would think after searching for hours and hours we would be rewarded. But no. Nothing ever goes right for us."

George sighed as he delicately took the hand of his wife and kissed her left ring finer. "Y'know... despite the mishaps, I actually had a fun time."

"Really?" He nodded.

"I'm still fucking tired." George let out a breathy laugh. "But I got to spend time with my love."

Y/N fell into the warm embrace of her lover. His arms locked in place around her waist. "You're too good to me, Luz." said Y/N as he massaged her back, trying to ease the tension.

"You joking? That's all you my love. You're the one willing to buy me drugs at two in the morning. What more could I ask for?"

"Oh hush."

"Ok how about this?" George placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. "You and me will call in sick for work today and spend the rest of the day napping and watching movies?"

The corner of Y/N's lips turned upward and with it, lifted all of her stress and anxieties. "You really are too good to me, Luz."

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers x reader #george luz #george luz x reader

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maximoffvizh · 5 years ago

Text

fic: take me out and take me home

a ‘you see everything in black and white until you meet your soulmate’ au. posted here at ao3 | mostly canon compliant except vision was resurrected for endgame

Vision has always seen in colour.

Even before he came to consciousness, when he was a stone and a body and a floating intelligence searching for an anchor, there was colour. It was shadow and light, and he understood it, processed each shade with his new mind. He knew the strange blinking lights in Stark Tower, mind telling him they were named red and blue and green, and he looked at the colours of the people. The red of the scarf tangled around Ms. Maximoff's neck and shoulders, the different red of the jacket she wore later, and the green of her eyes when they found his in the falling train.

It wasn't until later that he learned what colour meant. The world is black and white until you meet your soulmate, and when known public figures see colour it's something worth reporting. He finds out that Mr. Stark kept it hidden for years that he saw colour when he met Ms. Potts, that Captain Rogers went into the ice in a bright world and came out to one of fading pastel as Ms. Carter's health declines, that Ms. Romanoff is always tight-lipped about whether she sees colour or not, that Colonel Rhodes only know his once-partner is alive because he still sees colour.

His world is colour, and he doesn't hide that. He sees the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, the red of Ms. Maximoff's lipstick. It shortens any debate on who he is, what he is - if he sees colour, he has a soul. One matched perfectly with another out there, and he tries to understand why he saw colour before he existed, before the lightning shocked life into his veins. If one of the group who saw him born is his soulmate, he still shouldn't have seen colour until they were in the same room.

Late at night, when no one else is awake, he finds the videos that are splashed all over the Internet of soulmate meeting for the first time. Careful editing is done to match the perfect moment when two people lock eyes and see in colour for the first time, and he feels a lump in his throat watching footage of two young women getting married in the brightest colours he's even seen, this celebrating of matching souls. He'll never have the true moment of knowing, the glance up accompanied by tears he sees in another video of someone being brought together with their soulmate in a coffeeshop. He even watches the interview where Mr. Stark publicly announced that Ms. Potts was his soulmate after years of publicly denying he saw colour, and their soft smiles and happy eyes leave him raw. He wants that with someone.

A soft knock on the door, and he closes his laptop and opens the door to Wanda. The green of her eyes and the pale scatter of her freckles, and he notes the deep blue of her pyjamas, the white stripes, and then the redness that rims her eyes, the blotching on her nose and cheeks. She's been crying. "I can't sleep," she says softly, twisting at one of the tiny pearlescent buttons on her shirt. "Can I sit up with you?"

"Of course, Ms. Maximoff," he says, moving aside to let her in. She looks so vulnerable in pyjamas, hair in braids, young and lost and sad.

"Please just call me Wanda," she says, and he ducks his head, embarrassed that she has to ask again. "Can I borrow a blanket?" His stack are folded neatly on his desk chair, all bought at the recent trip Ms. Romanoff took them on in her excitement at the new compound, and he reaches for the top one before she says, "Not that one. The navy one."

He pulls out the particular blanket, velvety navy material that matches her pyjamas, and asks, "So you see colour?"

"I do," she says quietly, and there's a heaviness in her voice. He wonders if somehow the source of the colour was her brother, platonic soulmates have been proven to be viable thought he's never heard of family soulmates, but that wouldn't make sense. She would see in black and white now.

He wants to ask so badly, to find out who it was that brought her colour, to know the story behind the magical moment of black and white bursting into brightness, but something about the look in her eyes stops him. He just returns to his laptop, another article of someone writing up their joy at meeting their soulmate and describing the colour of everything they've seen, and lets her sit quietly until she moves closer. They watch a movie on Netflix, a romantic comedy about a young woman who sees a pair of best friends at exactly the same time and doesn't know which brought colour to her and the various hijinks that ensue, and she falls asleep on his shoulder. He feels her breath warm against his neck and the desperate desire to protect her warms in his chest.

It soon becomes apparent to him that it's not culturally acceptable to ask about someone's soulmate. He's not supposed to ask someone if they see colour, who it was that gave them that, whether someone has lost their colour again after a tragedy. Learning about the stories of his teammates is slow, tiny pinpricks of information gleaned over conversations after training, at night, over team dinners. Mr. Wilson saw in colour for a few years, but hasn't since his wingman in the military died. But he refuses to subscribe to the belief that there is only one perfect person for everybody, thinking that he just met one possible soulmate and there will be another one. Captain Rogers always looks particularly grim during those conversations.

He starts to forget the mystery of why he saw colour before he was truly alive. It's enough to see it, to appreciate it, to see Wanda wearing a new jumper and says, "That shade of red looks lovely on you, Wanda." To see her smile and tug the sleeves down over her ringed fingers, hair lighter than it was when he met her, her eyes still that same glowing green. She teaches him that he doesn't have to understand each other with her confessed lack of understanding of her own powers, her shushing him whenever she asks a rhetorical question about science and he tries to explain. The world is a more beautiful place when shrouded in magic and mystery - and there is nothing more magical or mysterious than his feelings for Wanda.

Colour stays with him even as his world falls apart. As he loses friends, watches news bulletins that flash Wanda's face across them when she's arrested, as he sits alone in the compound at the chessboard and stares at nothing. It's a time when the colours seem to fade, when his mind is barred up by a mist of sadness, and the colours only seem to brighten again after he finds a note hidden behind the coffee machine with his name on it. With an address and a tiny note written in Wanda's familiar slanted hand, obviously left there by Scott or Clint after they were placed in the compound for a few nights during their deal negotiations.

He goes to see her, and the colours of her overwhelm him almost immediately. She's changed her hair to a lighter brown, cut it short, curling around her jaw beneath a dark green baseball cap. Different colours now, her signature red too likely to get her caught, and she's so beautiful and bright, even when the air is heavy with early resentment. They talk in a park, half-hidden in bushes of bright flowers, and when she smiles for the first time he smiles back.

His colours are different when he sees her, the blonde hair and the pale skin, and when she smiles and he feels heat trace across his cheek her fingers trace the splash of pink on his skin, fascinated. Their eyes meet, in the quiet of a hotel room, and she tugs at the sleeves of her shirt - striped navy and white, knotted to show off a strip of pale skin above the waistband of her dark jeans - and meets his eyes. "Why have you never asked me when I started to see colour?"

"I learned it isn't polite to pry into someone's history with their soulmate," he says, and she sets her half-empty mug of tea down on the carpet between them. Perhaps it was once coloured, but now it's a murky grey, and she shifts on it to curl her bare feet beneath her and shift closer to him. "And I never know how to answer when people ask me. I've just...always seen it."

"Always?" she asks, and he nods. "So someone in the room the night you were...born-"

"I prefer created," he says, and she cracks a small smile.

"So we'll celebrate your creation day instead of your birthday, got it," she teases, and he smiles. "But someone in the room that night...they'd have to be your soulmate?"

"Not necessarily," he says. "I...saw colour before then. I remember it, just being this...conscious thing. And I didn't see black and white, I saw red and yellow and all these colours. It was always there for me." He glances at her, the seriousness in her eyes, and asks, "When did you start to see colour?"

"The moment that I looked into your head while you were still in the cradle." He blinks at her in confusion, and she raises a hand before she hesitates. "Can I show you?" He nods, and she brings her hand to the mind stone, and he accepts the gentle press of her mind into his, of her memories mingling with his. He sees the world in black and white, as he's never seen it, and he sees the cradle he came from, sees Wanda's pale hands, laden in rings, creep across its lid. And the explosion of colour, the world painting itself bright, and then he's back in the hotel room, staring into her beautiful green eyes.

"You...I gave you colour?" he asks, and she nods, pulling her lower lip nervously between her teeth. "And...you gave it to me?"

"I guess I did," she says, stumbling over the middle of the sentence like she's choking up, and he stares at her for a long, silent moment. Then he jerks forward to close the distance between them and kiss her, cradling her face between his hands, and her arms fly around his neck and pull him close, months of pent-up emotions poured into a kiss that turns into wandering hands pulling at clothes, her smile a silken promise against his skin, the bed squeaking beneath them and her wrapped around him so tightly he can't tell where he ends and she begins.

Much later, so late that dawn is creeping a glowing finger across the horizon, he lies with her propped up on his chest, her fingers wandering an idle path down the plate of vibranium that crosses his chest, he asks her, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? That we're soulmates?"

"I...at first, I had a hard time coming to terms with it," she says, hand moving back up to prop her better on his chest, her hair falling forward against his skin, the sheet tangled around them both. "I looked in your head, and saw annihilation, then the world turned to colour. And I spent that whole day thinking this thing that would only bring destruction was meant for me, but then you...were created. And you're you. Then I didn't want to tell you because you...you didn't question the way the world is. And we were becoming friends, getting close, and I didn't...I didn't want you to feel pressured to be with me because we're soulmates." She looks up at him, gives a tiny bashful smile, and says, "I genuinely liked you. And I wanted you to genuinely like me, not just because the universe says it's meant to be."

"I do genuinely like you," he says, and she smiles so brightly he's overwhelmed. Leans up to kiss him again, and as the sun rises he loses himself in her.

Colour rules his life with her. When she dyes her hair red, and wears bright colours in the sun-drenched cities they frequent, and he buys her bouquets of flowers, and spends hours gazing at the green of her eyes. Every day he's overwhelmed by how beautiful she is, and every night she reminds him that it was her who brought him colour. He falls in love with her so slowly, and realises it in a stunning rush watching her skip stones across a loch in the Scottish Highlands, scarf tugged up around her mouth against the cold day.

She's wearing a grey beanie and a green checked coat, white trainers scuffed with mud and moss, and when she joins him sitting on a wide flat rock and pulls him in by his collar to kiss him he tries to imagine the words. Sees them standing out in every glowing colour in his mind, and vows that he'll say them to her the next time he visits. When he walks past a jewellery store and a red stone in a gold setting catches his eye, the band of the ring a slender golden braid, he buys it and slips it into the pocket of a black coat. Only to think later that buying a ring means he wants to keep her colour in his life forever.

If only he could. But it won't work out, and he finds himself asking her to destroy him, making the choice to die at the hands of the woman he loves. To make it peaceful, to not show pain, and to focus on her colours. The green of her eyes, the red of her hair and her uniform, the silver slick of tears on her cheeks. To speak the words he never told her before, to feel at peace with her knowing before he dies.

Then he knows confusion. Pain. Blackness. Oblivion. A slow climb through shades of grey back to the surface, into white light. And no colour, a world in black and white. He knows Mr. Stark's face, full of concern, knows Shuri hovering next to him, and the first words from his mouth come out caught in a sob. "Why can't I see colours?"

Mr. Stark and Shuri exchange a look, and he repeats it frantically. "Why can't I see colours?!"

"Vision, it's...oh God, it's hard to explain...what do you remember?" Mr. Stark stares at him, and he looks hollow and miserable, and a horrible jolt goes through him. "Thanos got them. All of the stones. And he...he snapped. Destroyed half the life in the universe."

A horrible chill drips down Vision's spine, and he sees Shuri turn her face away, her shoulders heave, when he pleads, "Where's Wanda?"

"I'm so sorry, Vision." He can't bring himself to look up, can't look at Mr. Stark's grey face, his ears ringing when he finally hears that solemn, "She didn't make it."

"No. No no no no no no no it was supposed to be alright it was supposed to work she was supposed to be safe-" He can't breathe, chest tight and panic crawling in him, and then Mr. Stark is far away, voice like he's underwater, urging him to take a deep breath and unclench and calm down, tugging him up from the wing and out onto the balcony and the air and the grim, grey world without Wanda.

It's been five years, he learns quickly. They revived him because they have a way to help, to go back to set the world right again, to bring back everyone they lost. He learns Mr. Stark has a child, a sweet little girl intrigued by Vision. Colonel Rhodes is seeing in colour brighter than before, and Vision watches his interactions with Captain Danvers in mourning, seeing his days with Wanda in their stilted dance around each other. He tries to pretend to muddle along with the team, but he's only enthusiastic about the plan for the slim chance he'll have Wanda back.

When they stand around waiting for Mr. Banner to snap the gauntlet, with his eyes still brightened by tears after Ms. Romanoff's death, Vision stares out at the empty shades of grey that make his world. He locks eyes with Mr. Barton for a moment, knows that he has seen in black and white too since his wife died in the Snap, and they exchange a respectful nod. Just the two of them desperately hoping for their soulmates back.

Mr. Banner snaps. The sound echoes around the room, and Mr. Lang is the first to pipe up, "Did it work?" Vision looks around desperately, and almost collapses when the world brightens to dull pastels. It slowly brightens, he can see the red patch on the breast of the bird outside, and he hears a wrecked sob from Mr. Barton, and looks around the shellshocked, silent room.

"It worked," he says, and every face brightens in hope.

Then the first missile hits the compound, and the world turns to chaos. The sounds of battle, smoke, Vision dragging Colonel Rhodes out of the bottom of the compound before he drowns in the water pouring in, forever looking. Waiting, hoping that this coloured world will bring her back to him, that he'll see her. Captain Rogers standing looking out over the battlefield, a single man facing down a war, and then the spark of yellow in the corner of Vision's eyes. Spinning softly gold, and then the familiar sound of Mr. Wilson's engines, and the field is flooded with reinforcements.

He starts to cry the moment he sees that familiar glow of red, sees her, Wanda landing with the Asgardians. But before he can run to her the battle is raging, and he's forced to fight, hearing a call overhead from Mr. Wilson of, "Glad you're back, buddy!" He can't pause to acknowledge him, pushing his way through the fray to get to Wanda.

She's fighting Thanos alone, throwing balls of bright crackling energy at him, and Thanos is glaring, raising his weapon to sweep her out of his way, no doubt to break her against one of the chunks of rock lying around. And Vision presses power into the new gem at his forehead, Shuri's creation to replace the mind stone, and leaps between the woman he loves and Thanos, snarling, "Get away from her."

The jet of hot power melts Thanos' weapon, and he growls and roars, "Rain fire!" to his allies. Bullets rain down on the battlefield, and a scarlet shield slams down over Vision to protect him, and he turns to face Wanda, her eyes wide and silvered with tears.

"Vizh?" She reaches for him, the power wrapped around her fingers tingling against his skin when she cups his face, and she lets out a sob. "Are you real?"

"I'm right here," he breathes, wrapping a hand around her waist, holding her close, drinking in the beautiful sight of her. "You brought my colour back."

"Oh God, I was so scared, I...I woke up right where I left you, right where you died, and I could see colour but I still...I thought I'd lost you," she says, words trailing off in a sob, and he pulls her tightly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She's clutching at him so hard it hurts, but he welcomes it, welcomes the slight pain. It reminds him he's alive, she's alive, they're together.

"I love you," he breathes, and she pulls away from him, thumb brushing a tear gently away from his cheek.

"I love you too," she whispers, and launches herself into a kiss, and he pulls her so close her feet fly off the ground, just the two of them in their bubble of red in the centre of a battle. In a bright world, together.

"Hey!" They break apart at the yell, Mr. Barton sprinting full-force past them cradling the gauntlet beneath one arm, shouting, "We have bigger problems right now than reunion makeouts!"

Vision fights. He fights harder than he ever has before, because he has a future to fight for. It's right there on the battlefield, wrapped up in the magnificence of Wanda Maximoff, her hair and coat flying, so stunningly colourful amongst the smoke. When it's all over, when the field echoes with the distant sobs of their allies, when Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts are holding each other in the shadow of Mr. Stark's body, he finds her at the edge of it all. There's a crimson line of blood on her cheek, and her eyes are rimmed with red.

"I thought everything would be alright when we came back," she says quietly when he sits down next to her. "I thought...I know Nat died. But I thought this battle...I thought we could do it without losing anyone." She shifts on the rock she's sitting on, and she says, "I know I wasn't close to him...God knows there was no love lost between us, but I...I-"

"You don't have to explain your feelings to me," he says, and slides an arm gently around her. "I'm here, Wanda. No matter what." He kisses her temple, smooths a finger over the wound on her cheek to smear the blood away, and murmurs, "I love you."

She leans against him and sighs, and he pulls his cape around her, letting the silence settle over them. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. It's enough to know that he brought her colour.

He will always see in colour. And she will too.

#scarlet vision #scarletvision fic #scarletvision au #beth writes fic

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lisatelramor · 5 years ago

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Black Cat (or a White Elephant)

Every now and then I pull out a DCMK genderbend fic I started in 2012. Probably never going to finish or edit it to be honest. But. Because it took a sidestep and became an AU of an AU partway through (thus why it either needs compatibility editing i can’t be assed to do or made into 2 different things...) I had a few scenes that no longer fit. This is one of them, so the genderbending is kind of a side note. Also in this AU Kaito and Saguru started forming a sort of tentative friendship sooner than later.

***

Kaito poked the box with her toe. The creature in it growled and thumped around the plastic interior. Kaito pulled out her cell phone. It was answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Did you mail me a kitten?” Coughing and sputtering came from the other end of the phone conversation.

“…What?”

“Did you mail me a kitten?” The cat in the box was quiet again. Too quiet.

“Why would you think I sent you a kitten?” Hakuba sounded like she swallowed a sip of tea wrong.

Kaito squatted down to the box’s label. “I just signed off on an air-mailed package from Europe. A package containing a cat.”

“And you thought I sent it?”

“Well…” Not really, no. She couldn’t see Hakuba sending anything other than the occasional letters from halfway across the world, and certainly not something like a cat. “It was kind of a stretch, but I don’t really know anyone…from…Europe. Huh.” Kaito peeked through the hole in the box. Black fur.

“I take it you figured out your mystery cat mailer?” Hakuba’s dry tone was something Kaito found herself missing. She could go without the superior attitude it often accompanied, but Hakuba could be a wonderful straight-man to Kaito’s goofiness if she’d play along.

“I think I might have an idea.” She did know one other person in Europe. And Chat Noir was probably the only person who would think to send Kaito a black cat.

“Does it have a name?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t opened the box yet.”

“Great, call it Schrodinger.”

Kaito snorted. “I’m not naming a cat Schrodinger. And I’m pretty certain the cat in there is alive since it was growling at me just a minute ago. Besides, that’s a mouthful.”

“Then shorten it to Schrodi. Or Ding.” It sounded like Hakuba was holding back laughter.

“Just a sec.” Kaito opened the cat crate. A black furred body shot out of the opening in a blur of fluffed fur and claws. It hid under the couch glaring at Kaito irritably. It probably blamed her for the nasty cross-continental trip. Taped inside the crate was a short letter. “Her name’s Estelle and she’s supposed to keep me company.”

“Does this person realize you have enough doves to supply wedding halls with complimentary flights across the chapel?”

“Probably not.” Hmm, a cat and doves. This wouldn’t turn out well would it? The cat growled from under the couch. “Well I can’t ship it back to Europe.”

“Keep it on a trial basis,” Hakuba advised. “If it gets into trouble, Aoshi seems like the type who would like a pet.”

“Good idea.” Kaito crumpled the note and went in search of something a cat could eat. She was pretty sure there was canned chicken in some cupboard. Honestly this could just as easily be a way of messing with her than Chat Noir sending a thoughtful gift. She would have appreciated some notice at least. “Cats eat chicken, right?”

“And fish.” Kaito flinched, almost dropping the can and her phone. The damn f-word. “I wish you luck as the new, proud owner of a cat.”

“I’ll let you know if it lasts the week.” She set the dish of canned chicken in the center of the living room and retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room as the cat. “Thanks for not being the one sending me a cat.”

“I can safely say that I will never be the person air mailing you a cat, Kuroba.” Hakuba was surely smiling on the other end. “I should be able to visit Japan in the future. This is your fair warning.”

“I’m not KID,” Kaito said automatically. It was practically a scripted part of their conversations by now. “But it will be good to catch up. I’ll pass along the news to Aoshi.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll get to meet Watson.”

“Can you get a European sparrow-hawk through customs?”

“With the right papers you can get just about anything through customs.”

“True.” The cat stuck her head out from under the couch. Her ears flicked back and forth in Kaito’s direction in time with her voice. Paw-step by paw-step, she crept until she reached the bowl in the middle of the room. Her tail twitched. Kaito could see her preparing from a trap. “I’ll see you around, Hakuba.”

“Have a good morning, Kuroba.” The phone disconnected and Kaito closed her phone silently. The cat finally stooped to eat the chicken. It looked like this would be a long process to get it to trust her. Thankfully Kaito was a patient person when it came to animals. She’d just have to keep the doves far away from dangerous kitty claws. “Hey, Estelle,” Kaito murmured. Ears flicked forward, but she kept gulping down the chicken. “What is Chat Noir thinking sending you, kitty cat?” Estelle growled. It was going to be a very long process.

*o*o*o*o*

“Allô? C'est de la part de qui?”

“Ms. Jones?” Kaito purred in her best Kid voice. “Just calling to inform you that your gift might not live until her adult fur grows in.”

“Kaitou Kid,” Chat Noir said, sounding pleased. “So you received Estelle.”

“Yes.” Kaito glared at the cat currently trapped under a laundry basket. It was alternating between batting at a feather and glaring at her with big, yellow eyes. “I don’t think we’ve hit it off.”

Chat Noir laughed. “Cats are picky. Friendship is something that must be earned.”

“Well she isn’t really helping me like her.” Kaito shifted her phone to the other ear so that she could better soothe the dove on her forearm. Poor Karui was missing feathers from her tail and still shaking an hour after Kaito found her trying and failing to escape the cat. “She tried to eat my doves.”

“You keep birds?” There was a sigh from the other end. “No, no, of course you keep birds. You are self-proclaimed a magician-thief. You have kept them separate; you would not be so foolish as to let a cat into the roost, so to speak.”

“Of course, I’m not stupid.” Kaito skritched at Karui’s feathers along her head and neck like she enjoyed. The trembling became soft coos of contentment. “Accidents, however, happen and I can’t watch her all the time.” The cat in the basket chose that moment to meow loudly and authoritatively, like it could convince Kaito to let it out. She scowled at it. “The cat likes my neighbor for some reason. She climbs onto his shoulder and everything.”

“Does this neighbor like Estelle?”

“Terribly.” Estelle meowed again. Karui ruffled her feathers and shuffled higher along Kaito’s shoulder.

“Give her a bit more time. If she remains a nuisance, your neighbor would be a good home.” Chat Noir sounded amused. She probably was enjoying one-upping Kaito in some way even if it was in the form of a gift-turned-irritant.

“Fine. I wanted to be sure that there would be no hard feelings if this were the case.” Kaito transferred Karui to the perch she kept in her room for when she trained her doves. Karui scooted to her favorite place by the edge that was scored with hundreds of claw indentations from generations of doves. Kaito squatted to look at the cat. Surprisingly, Estelle didn’t hiss.

“None at all,” Chat Noir said. “She was sent with good intentions. I am glad to hear that you have companions of the human sort.” There was almost a question in her tone. Kaito frowned.

“He doesn’t know. I have friends who do, so please butt out.”

“Territorial, no?” Chat Noir was definitely laughing on her end of the phone. “Do I count among these friends, Petite Phantom?”

Kaito snorted and stuck out a hand for Estelle to sniff. The kitten sneezed. “Maybe. Maybe not.” She was still annoyed that Chat Noir knew where to send the package. Kaito would have to respond in kind… Although knowing her phone number probably was equally invasive for people who liked their private lives to remain private. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Estelle licked Kaito’s fingers before biting her pinky with needle teeth. Kaito winced. Thankfully she couldn’t bite too hard since she was still a kitten.

“Then I wish you luck with this…male friend.” She was grinning and Kaito was going to send her something nasty. Maybe a package that spat blue dye onto everything the moment it was opened. Or combining it with a glitter bomb. She would find glitter in places for years.

“It’s not like that, and thanks anyway.” Estelle was licking her hand again, but she was keeping her teeth to herself. Aoshi was going to love his new kitten. Love. And Kaito would gladly send the cat-toys, litter, food, and water dishes with her. “A pleasant day to you.”

“And to you, Kuroba-chan.”

Kaito winced. “Please don’t.” Chat Noir laughed and Kaito hung up the phone. It was probably a waste of an international phone call. At least she knew that the cat hadn’t been sent just to harass her. She was sure there was a little bit of harassment involved though. Chat Noir seemed intent on fitting into some kind of older sister role. It was annoying. Kaito could take care of herself and she certainly didn’t want anyone meddling. But Chat Noir wasn’t too bad. Kaito had wanted someone for cross dressing tips after all. Estelle bit Kaito’s finger again. She glared at the innocent, wide yellow eyes.

“You. You are going to live with Aoshi.”

Estelle purred low in her throat, rubbing against Kaito and the laundry basket. There would be fur stuck to the plastic next time Kaito went to use it.

“Don’t play cute. You just want out so you can murder my pretty birdies.” She was too much of a softie if a bit of purring and rubbing earned her forgiveness. Estelle mewed and butted her head against Kaito’s fingers, rubbing her whole body along them. “That counts as bribery. You’re not winning any points.” The kitten made a churring sound deep in her throat. Kaito sighed. “Fine. But far from Karui. You almost scared her to death.”

She lifted off the basket and scooped the ball of fluff into her arms. Pinpricks of claws immediately dug into her chest and forearm. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Kaito scratched the fuzzy triangular ears and the kitten purred even as she tried to eat a button on Kaito’s shirt. “I’m sure Aoshi will spoil you rotten.” The kitten went back to the living room where she was supposed to be and Kaito closed her door firmly with Karui safe inside. The dovecot was closed for the night as well and not even a particularly intrepid cat would get in or out of there tonight. She’d talk to Aoshi in the morning. He’d probably even hug her for it. That was one upshot of an unwanted cat. And Hakuba would laugh her head off when she told her… internally. Kaito couldn’t really see Hakuba laughing hard out loud for anything short of Kaitou Kid doing something both embarrassing and entrapping. And even then it would be smug. Actually, screw Hakuba. Kaito wasn’t telling her anything. Estelle, after a day of mischief, was finally asleep.

#magic kaito #genderbend au snippet #fanfiction #my writing #i'm posting this because i keep coming back to it #so maybe posting a bit of it will let me let go #my long wips haunt me ok #i like the idea of girl!kaito and ruby jones bonding over being female thieves

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heavyonthecost · 6 years ago

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fatamoru snippets dump #5: nsfw edition

Pardon me for these but someone’s gotta suffer these beside the anons. Only the first three are explicit, really, but the rest also contain (Reincarnation-setting) less vanilla kinky stuff so figured it’s safer to group them together. This one also has something that isn’t Yukipauline... just the first one, though.

(#1, #2, #3, #4)

(Content notes: infidelity, menstrual sex, rape roleplay (setup), light D/s, knifeplay, (consensual) snuff)

(Prompt: fingering, 300 words, Maria/WHG. Contains infidelity)

“Poor Madam. Your husband can’t be bothered to visit you, let alone touch you like this…”

Maria inserted a third finger, causing the Madam to to arch her back, repeating the same words, “Darling… I’m sorry…”

“You really don’t have to be, Madam. It’s his fault for neglecting you this badly.” Maria made the most pained expression she could. “I’m sorry I can’t be a better replacement for him…”

“It’s - not your - fault…”

“Tell me, Madam,” Maria said, keeping her fingers moving. “How can I touch you like he did? How did he use to run his hands over your body?”

“That… I… don’t know…”

Maria paused. “Has it been so long that you forgot? Or… have you never…” When only heavy breathing came in answer, Maria let out a loud gasp - an exaggerated reaction, but on some level the surprise was genuine. “Oh, Madam, how pitiful!”

The sudden speed-up of Maria’s fingers jolted her eyes open. “Maria, wait -”

“Please leave this to me, Madam. You can just relax, you deserve as much after all you’ve been through.”

A few more thrusts, and Maria could feel a tightening around her fingers, the Madam’s body trembling against her own. Between her breathing, Maria could vaguely make out the name of the master of the house escaping from her lips.

Maria marvelled at the result of her handiwork - pale skin flushed with a colour almost as red as those eyes behind half-closed lids, long flowing white hair strewn across the bed, the wetness covering her own fingers - and tried her best not to smirk in satisfaction. Sure, what she just did wasn’t strictly required for her plans - the rift between them was growing beautifully already. But what was a little bit of fun to be had with such a lovely, unsuspecting lady?

(Prompt: weird fetishes, 300 words. Contains menstrual sex, written pre-Defectives so the characterisation might be kinda wonky)

Usually, sex was something he only partook to humour Pauline, as part of his “good lover” act. But sometimes, the times he would be in her town would overlap with those times for her, and it made things... different.

“...I mean, we’re already here now, but… are you sure you really want to do this again?”

“We don’t get to meet often as it is. It’d be a pity to let this ruin it.”

With his face between her legs, the scent of blood wafting from her filled him with - not arousal, perhaps, but a sort of excitement nonetheless. Not as much as smelling freshly drawn blood dripping from his sword, but still enough to get him breathing more heavily, his heart beating slightly faster.

“You don’t want to do it?”

She cast her gaze aside, and then back at him. “I… do. I want to make the most of our time together too…”

He stuck his tongue forward to catch a drop of blood that was about to drip down, and as soon as the metallic tang spread in his mouth, he instinctively pushed further, his tongue sliding into her, searching for more. He pushed back the urge to sink his teeth somewhere, drawing more blood and maybe even a scream - but the urgency in her moans, pleading for more, was a close enough substitute to push him onward.

Pulling out, he licked upwards, over all dried traces of blood, and he felt her fingers grasping onto his hair, heard her hitched breathing interspersed with his name. He repeated the motion some more, at which her legs locked around him, and he could feel her whole body trembling from where her thighs pushed against him.

He wondered if there was a good way to strategically time his next visit.

(Prompt: Blasphemy, 100 words)

The Archangel in the stained glass leered down as she violated her vows behind the pews.

He’s a stranger to this land, he couldn’t be expected to understand all of our customs and beliefs, she told herself, but of course he did - he had never shown any intention of laying his hands on her until she made it clear in everything but words that she wanted him to - and her guilt grew from trying to frame him for her transgressions.

Trembling under his touch, she wished that she wasn’t Marie, everyone’s beloved Saintess, but just Pauline, a normal town girl.

(Prompt: kink negotiation, 300 words. Contains rape roleplay (or the setup thereof, rather))

“Do I really have to tie you up?”

“It’s important to set the mood!”

Yukimasa still only frowned at the rope. “I’m still not convinced hurting -”

“Pretending to.”

“- you before it’s time is a good idea.”

“It’s only pretend. And who knows, maybe having an outlet for your tendencies like this can help you last longer.” Realising the possible double meaning of her words, Pauline quickly added, “I mean -”

“Before I kill you, right?”

“...yeah.” Even she surprised herself with that ‘come kill me’ deal, but they’d since established that they were both kinda weird, after all. Soon, she felt ropes rustling against her wrists, gradually tightening around them.

“Is this enough?”

She tried pulling her wrists apart - and found little resistance. “I could probably break out of this.”

“Good. So you can stop me if needed.”

“But we have the word for that! And you can’t say you’re pretending if you’re not even trying.”

“...all right.” Through a frown, he re-tightened the ropes. “Why are you going this far for me?”

“What if I say… it’s not just for your urges?”

“Huh?”

Throughout everything, this was the first thing to cause Pauline to blush. “The books I used to sneak from my mother’s collection were… inspirational.”

“...I see.” Times like these, she was thankful for Yukimasa’s stoic disposition. Finished with tightening the ropes, he stood upright. “And now I have to get out of the room?”

“Yep! Building the atmosphere is important.”

He took a step away, but quickly turned back. “You will stop me if needed, right?”

“...if you really feel like killing me in the middle, I don’t mind letting you?”

“Don’t.” The answer came firmly. “Stop me if I try to. I don’t want to kill you yet.”

She smiled. “If that’s what you want, then.”

(Prompt: submission, 100 words. Contains light D/s)

“Is this too tight for you?”

“No, just right.”

Done adjusting his collar, she straddled his kneeling form, one hand holding his leash.

She herself was his chain, his tether. But the collar, the leash served to emphasise that. She grabbed his jaw and pushed her thumb between his parted lips, running it across his teeth. “You’re not to bare these teeth against anyone else, okay?”

She smiled when he nodded, then tugged on the leash until her collarbone was right in front of his eyes. “Go ahead.”

He sunk his teeth into her skin, drawing blood and a moan.

(Prompt: your favourite kink, 200 words. Contains knife+bloodplay)

“Can I try it out too?”

Yukimasa stayed still, bloodied knife in hand. “Why?”

“I want to know what it’s like.” Pauline brushed a finger against the still-bleeding cuts on her chest, ones he just left. “What, you can deal it out but not take it?”

“That’s not it,” he said, glancing away. “Someone like you shouldn’t know about -”

She pushed a finger against his lips and pried the knife away with the other hand. “Weren’t you the one who called me not so normal after all?” She pressed the edge against his chest and blood flew out, bright red flowing onto his skin, onto the blade, spilling onto her hand. If she were to forget what it was, forget the slight hiss of pain she heard from him when the knife cut into his skin, and just focus on the vivid colour as she smeared it across his chest with her hand - perhaps she could see a part of what he enjoyed so much about this.

“Pauline…”

“I told you, right? I want to be the only one to understand you.”

She pulled him in for a kiss, the slick of their blood mingling together between their pressed bodies.

(Prompt: knife day, 200 words. Contains (consensual) snuff)

“You don’t look scared.”

Most people would with a knife pointed at them, but Pauline managed a smile, albeit a wistful one. “I knew this day would come. I proposed it, after all.”

“And you have no regrets about that?”

“...I did want to grow old with you.”

“You can run away now.. Find someone else to grow old with.”

She shook her head. “It won’t do if it’s not with you.”

She stood in front of him, unwavering, about to let him have what he’d always wanted - and so he did, plunging the knife into her gut. Her eyes shot wide open, mouth open in a voiceless scream as blood spread across her clothes; her hand brushed up against his face, neither pushing him away nor refusing him. He pulled out the knife and stabbed again, and again - to see her death sooner? To see more of her pain, or shorten it? - and before long, her hand fell down, her whole body going limp in his arm.

It was done, One of his wishes fulfilled, the other never to come true again. He ran his fingers across her face, closing her eyelids and lips.

She was beautiful in death.

#fanfic #the house in fata morgana #maria campanella #the white-haired girl #yukimasa aida #pauline asama

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caligulasterrarium · 7 years ago

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Rose Christo highlights from the Farms:

“Christo” isn’t her last name, at least not by birth, but rather a shortening of it that was only officially given to her brother (their father was Greek, not Native American, and had a very long last name)

She is not even a little bit Native American

She thinks she’s Native American because she was raised by her grandmother, who would call herself a “Native American” because she was born in America (yes... really...)

She has been reading the Kiwi Farms thread; shortly after her brother explained that their father was Greek and that they had no Native blood, she amended the FAQ on her blog to say that her allegedly Native father played no part in raising her, to distance herself from the culture she obviously is not a part of

Her brother was never more than a Google search away and has tried to contact her 3 times, being ignored all three times, despite her claim that she had lost him and wrote My Immortal to find him (lol)

After discovering the thread on the Farms, she vagueposted about him on her public Twitter instead of trying to contact him privately, presumably to garner sympathy (you can still see these tweets, she hasn’t made many since then)

She isn’t actually disputing any of his claims that she’s a liar, just maintaining her own narrative without addressing them (it’s honestly a little creepy)

Tons of stuff, including that FAQ I mentioned earlier, got deleted after she finally took up her brother’s offer to discuss things in private

Her mother and grandmother are both histrionics with a long history of verbal and psychological abuse, and she seems to have been totally fucked up by the two of them

She claims that her abusive mother filmed strange men raping her when she was a young child; this originated from a lie her abusive grandmother told her for a custody battle, and her brother is confident that, if evidence of this exists, it couldn’t have reached the courts as she claims it did, because he wasn’t taken from his mother’s custody

She has always lived with her grandmother and was never in foster care

Her brother was never in foster care, either (they seem to have lived in the same building, and she simply avoided him)

Her claim that she knew she was a lesbian from age 5 or 6 doesn’t gel with what her brother remembers of her obsession with prettyboys, although that’s admittedly a pretty weird thing to lie about

She straight up lied to her publisher about her entire family, even forging documents, which is why the book was canceled (she actually admitted this herself when explaining the cancellation)

Before you ask, no, this is NOT normal; changing names in the book itself is normal, but forging documents sent privately to your publisher is not in the least bit normal

And that’s just about Christo’s fucked up personality and family history! There’s also good reason to believe she is not the author of My Immortal:

She acted like she didn’t want to be found - but she left the most obvious trail of bread crumbs imaginable, even posting a screenshot of herself logged into the FictionPress account on her Twitter and including that totally-out-of-place mention of Undyne that served no purpose except to drive people back to her Undyne-filled Tumblr

She asked for help contacting the owner of FF.net on her public Twitter immediately after the FictionPress was updated to mention she was having trouble with that

She conveniently came out of hiding after 11 years to be “accidentally“ discovered just a few months before her memoir about writing the damn thing was supposed to come out

She actually just straight up admitted she was the author on her own blog once, but no one noticed because it was in a tag

She even claimed that her publisher did not want her to reveal her identity too soon, which is frankly incompatible with the neon signs she left up; she was clearly trying to generate publicity for her memoir

She claims she was never a fan of My Chemical Romance and just included the piles of references to them in MI because she had a crush on Raven, who was the actual fan (similar claims about Harry Potter, including that as an aspiring author writing a parody Harry Potter fanfiction at age 15 she wasn’t even aware of the Harry Potter books)

Including all these things that she didn’t care about in a troll fic just because her crush liked them is pretty weird, because she was definitely parodying fans of those things

Here is an interesting post asserting that MI was masterful parody and not a vent fic of any kind, and that the incredible skill that went into it does not match the incredible mediocrity of Christo’s later works - as well as pointing out that the particular choice of irregular spellings suggest the author was either a Brit or a serious anglophile (or affecting the persona of one)

All signs point to Rose Christo being a very damaged woman with a history of telling self-serving lies, which doesn’t do much to back up her claim that she wrote My Immortal. While it is possible she did write this fanfic, there’s much more than a little reason to think she’s lying, so I think it’s safe to the mystery of My Immortal’s authorship is still unsolved.

Additionally, she has apparently doubled down on her delusions and accused her brother of working with their mother to ruin her life, so he’s promising a dump of their email conversation in the near future.

Edit:

The claim that this could possibly have started off as genuine totally clashes with the fact that we have excerpts from a book she wrote at age 11, and there’s no way her writing degraded from this:

to this:

there are plenty of other reasons to think My Immortal was never in any way the least bit genuine, but I think this is the most straightforward

#my immortal #i spent too much time on this

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bonitamusic · 5 years ago

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Interview with Sujazz

1/ Hey Sujazz, it's a pleasure to have you on Bonita music today, please introduce yourself : My name is Sujazz. I’m a singer/artist based in Munich. 2/ Where does your nickname comes from ? Sujazz is an alias I gave myself when I was 16. ‘Su’ is just short for soul. I liked the sound of it, so I shortened it up and merged it with jazz. It’s very personal to me since soul music has always been a big part of my life and comes from a very deep and personal place – feelings and emotions which I’m trying to express through my music. I have always been fascinated by jazz and its many facets. The chord progressions and especially the improvs. I don’t claim to know everything about jazz, but to me jazz comes from the soul. Combining jazz elements with soul music creates a wonderful synergy. Also when I dig for samples, jazz is the first thing I search for. It’s definitely a huge inspiration for my music. 3/ How did you get into Music ? Who / What were your biggest influences / inspirations ? Growing up, we always had music playing at home. My father used to sing and play guitar. My older brother listened to a lot of R&B music. He introduced me to all the big R&B artists from the 90s like Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men. Immediately, I was intrigued by their way of singing and how it made me feel. It was filled with so much soul and emotions. They were singing about love, heartbreaks and relationships. It felt really meaningful and true. That’s basically how I got introduced to R&B music. Then I started digging more into it and discovered Brandy and Aaliyah. Musically they’re definitely my biggest inspirations and influences. R&B, Soul and Gospel music in general has a big impact on me and my music. I started singing at an early age - I must have been five or six years old. I used to sing along to all kinds of music just for fun until a friend of mine pointed out that I actually have a good voice. That’s when I started to really dive into it. Making tapes and singing in a gospel choir, which also helped me develop my strength of making vocal arrangements and playing with harmonies. Back then I already started writing my own songs but never had the chance to put it out. Technically, I would say, I’ve been making music for as long as I can think, but my first ever produced track I’ve released on soundcloud about four years ago. 4/ I personally found out about you on Bandcamp and loved the vibe right away. Do you recall the very first time you ever put a track online ? How was it like to open up and expose your craft ? Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I remember it like it was yesterday. When releasing a track, it always feels like you’re exposing yourself – your inner self. There’s excitement but also some kind of anxiety. What would people think about my music, my voice, the lyrics, the whole arrangement? Will they be able to get the creative idea? So many things run through your mind when you decide to release what you’ve been working on for so long, but I guess that’s a common thing for any artist, since it is personal stuff we write and sing about. I put a lot of hard work into it and when people actually appreciate and connect with what I’ve created, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. 5/ Your latest release is called “Reasons” and this track feels very personal, you’re singing about betrayal and how it can affect someone’s trust and self esteem for a while. Is your music inspired by your experiences and relationships of the past ? Definitely. I always write about my personal experiences. That’s the only way I can really express myself and be as authentic and real as possible. Writing songs is like going through a process of self-reflection, self-evaluation and self-care. It’s very personal. It’s also a learning process for me. I’m still learning how to express myself without a filter, allowing myself to be vulnerable thus creating a personal connection with the listeners. Honestly, the best songs that were ever written came out of really difficult times.

6/ You seem to be taking time digging for loops and samples, do you happen to make your own beats to sing over ? Also who are some of the producers you like to work with ? Any producers you would wish to collaborate with in the future ? I spend a lot of money and time digging through music. It’s almost an addiction. I literally never stop listening to music, except when I’m sleeping. If I happen to come across a song which I’d like to sample, I spend hours trying to find the perfect loop. I’ll loop it for hours just to sing on it. Most of the time it just ends up as a loop, since I don’t really produce beats myself anymore. I used to, but I figured I’m probably a better singer than a producer. There are so many talented producers I want to work with, but if I had to pick one it’d probably be Agajon. I just discovered his music in the beginning of 2019, when he dropped his EP ‘7 days’. He’s such a dope producer from Hamburg. If you don’t already know his stuff, you should check him out. 7/ You are also involved in a Platform / Community called Fabtribe, can you tell us a little bit more about it ? what lead you to start this project ? Me and one of my friends came up with the idea to create an event for music lovers, while we were travelling through the bay area back in 2014. Both of us are big into music but back then we had no djing skills. So we’ve asked ourselves, what if we organize an event for people like us? People who don’t know how to dj but have a nice music collection and are into a similar sound. So we’ve launched FAB5, which is basically a music tastemaker event, where five people get the opportunity to play their favorite tracks whether they’re dj’s or not. This idea finally grew into something bigger - Fabtribe. A platform and collective for everyone who loves soulful music as much as we do. 8/ Back to you, New Year just kicked off, the marathon is just getting started. What’s next for you ? I’ve noticed you haven’t released a debut EP yet or a music video, is this in the back of your mind for 2020 ? I would love to put more music out. Currently, I’m working on different projects with different producers. Remi Oz for instant. He’s based in France and super talented. He also did two remixes of my track “reasons”, which you can listen to on soundcloud. A debut EP would be a dream come true. It’s definitely on my mind and I already have some ideas and a concept but let’s see what 2020 brings. You’ll definitely get to hear new music in 2020.

9/ I hope music will get us connected in the real world sometime soon, in the meantime there’s one question I love to ask when I first get to meet someone, which is, what would be your top 3 artists you would want to see perform live (gone or alive) ? Another tough one. There are so many artists I would love to see perform but I guess I have to say Stevie Wonder, Summer Walker and Devin Morrison. Stevie wonder because he’s a living legend. Summer Walker because she’s the artist I’ve been listening to the most this year. She just speaks to my heart. Her way of writing songs is so honest and raw. I love her album. And last but not least Devin, because his music reminds me of the early neo soul era and artists like Musiq Soulchild or Dwele but with a new and fresh twist. His album Bussin’ is just beautiful. 10 / Thank you for sharing your time with us, can’t wait to hear more from you. Any last words ? Thanks for having me and I really appreciate the support. Much love! https://sujazz.bandcamp.com/ https://soundcloud.com/sujazzmusic https://www.instagram.com/sujazzmusic/ GUEST MIX TRACKLIST : Summer Walker - Fun Girl Snoh Aalegra - I want you around (Tentendo Remix) Kristina Alcordo - No Good (Gregarious Funk Wav Edit) Ella Mai - Boo’d Up (Vandalized Edit) Summer Walker - CPR (Dj Takumi x Jun Tanaka Edit) Shay Lia - I’ll be there Jms - my luv Jamiroquai - blow your mind (Sicstyle Edit) Drizabone - real love Miraa May - make room Solange - beltway (Trackademicks remix) Alex Isley - road to you (Trackademicks remix) Jocelyn Brown - love’s gonna get you (DJU DJU remix) H.E.R. - could’ve been ft. Bryson Tiller (Trackademicks remix) Lion Babe - into me Tony! Toni! Tone! - anniversary (Jon’s cuffin edition) Wavy Bagels - closeclose LoVibe. - ask me why Magic Flowers - fonk street Amerie - talkin2me (jymson remix) The Scrapped Ones - Keep on reachin

#interview #sujazz

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stacks-reviews · 7 years ago

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Must Reads Special #1

Welcome to the first special edition of Must Reads.

Instead of going over my favorite books I’ve researched lately from my list, we are visiting some of my favorite books/series.

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS.

--I was going to mention five but I didn’t expect the first one to become so long so I shortened it to three--

Stacks Favorites --The Circle of Magic series by Tamora Pierce Four orphaned misfits who come together to learn how to use their magic. Sandry who is gifted in magic related to silk and weaving. Daja who was banished from her people is gifted in magic related to metalwork. The former thief Briar whose magic is in plants. And Tris, gifted in magic related to the weather.

I really love this series. It is actually made up of three quartets. The Circle of Magic quartet is mainly about the four learning how to control their magic. Simple enough at first but at the end of the first book (Sandry’s Book) the four find themselves trapped in a cave when a massive earthquake hits. The only way they can think to save themselves is for Sandry to weave these pieces of string they were ordered to carry around by their teachers in order to make the pieces glow. (Which she can do since her magic deals in all matters of weaving, cloth, clothes). While weaving the strings together, all four poured some of their power into the cloth. With the light they have a better idea of how they could use their individual types of magic to made the now caved in cave stable until they can be rescued. As a consequence of this, it turns out Sandry also weaved their magics together. Now each can do a little of each others magic. In the second book (Tris’s Book) they help defend their city from a pirate attack. In the third (Daja’s Book) they help stop a massive wildfire. In the fourth book (Briar’s Book) a mysterious illness spreads rapidly throughout the city; more of a plague, and the four help find the cure.

The Circle Opens is the second quartet of these books. This time around Briar, Daja, and Tris have left to travel with their teachers for a year or so. Sandry has stayed behind with her teacher in order to look after her uncle after his heart attack. Each finds themselves in some kind of trouble and each end up becoming teachers to new mages they meet while they travel. Book one (Magic Steps) follows Sandry as she meets a young boy who uses a dance to attract fish to a net. To her dismay she learns that whatever mage finds a new, untrained mage must become their teacher until they can find a teacher more suited to the new ones magic. If none are found, the discovering mage must teach them. She finds him a willing dance instructor but must teach him control over his magic since no dance mage lives in the city. But while she is trying to teach her student there is a murder running around killing members of a specific merchant family. An invisible murderer gifted with a magic that is nothingness. Sandry must work together with her student to stop the murderer.

Book two (Street Magic) follows Briar when he finds a girl street rat who can perform magic with stones. There are several mages specializing in stones in the city but Briar’s student likes none of them. There is even someone who wants to adopt his student but only wants to use her in order to join a gang controlled by the rich lady and to hunt for stones for her. This actually the first book I read of these. I checked it out at my schools library and didn’t know it was part of a series at the time. Book three (Cold Fire) follows Daja who discovers that the twin daughters of the family they are staying with can do magic. One in all things related to cooking and the other in woodcraft. While there are also house fires almost every night. Daja helps stop several and discovers that the fires are intentionally set and tries to find the arsonist. Who terms out to be this older gentleman that Daja became friends with and she might have had a bit of a thing for him, so that was heart wrenching. Book four (Shatterglass) follows Tris whose student is an older gentleman able to perform magic with glass. What’s different here is that her student knew he had a small seed of magic already. One evening he was struck by lightening and wasn’t able to make glass pieces as well as he was able to before. Turns out that lightening altered his magic a bit and gave him a bit of glass and lightening magic. And together they hunt down a killer who is specifically going after the city’s entertainers; tumblers, dancers, singers, and late night companions.

The Circle Reforged is the third quartet. In The Will of the Empress, the four are back together again and are heading to Sandry’s family estate in a neighboring kingdom. But her aunt; the empress, is power hungry and wants to add Sandry and her friends to her collection. She will do anything to have them stay in her country. From bribes like for Briar she would give him access to her private greenhouses that few have access to and to be the official royal gardener overseer guy. To making Tris fall down a long flight of stairs to prevent them leaving. Melting Stones follows Briar’s student and his teacher as they inspect rumors of strange happenings. Turns out it’s cause the volcano is about to explode and Briar’s student makes friends with the volcano spirits and tries to distract them from escaping the volcano cause that would make it explode.

And Battle Magic is the third of this quartet. I was very excited when it came out because in The Will of the Empress it was revealed that on Briars return home he, his teacher, and his student were involved in a war. Briar never revealed what happened to them but he was affected more by that war than the pirate invasion he helped defend against in Tris’s Book. (Which a war is something way different than an invasion but I think that was the first time he ever killed someone was during the invasion). He would have nightmares unless he slept next to someone and he couldn’t sleep if he heard temple bells. And finally, there is a yet untitled fourth book. This will have a focus on Tris and will take place sometime after The Will of the Empress. Tris attends a different school for magic so that she can learn a magic that she could make a living off of and without people being afraid of her.

I love this series. It is really good, was darker (at the time) than other books I had read up till then, and the characters are great. For a few years I would read it once every year. The only reason I haven’t lately is because I’m trying to get through my backlog as much as possible.

--The Kingkiller Chronicle series by Patrick Rothfuss. “My name is Kvothe. I have stolen princess back from sleeping barrow kinds. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that would make the minstrels weep. You may have heard of me. So begins a tale of unequaled in fantasy literature - the story of a hero told in his own voice. It is a tale of sorrow, a tale of survival, a tale of one man’s search for meaning in his universe, and how that search, and the indomitable will that drove it, gave birth to a legend.”

Words cannot begin to describe how much I love The Name of the Wind, The Wise Man’s Fear, and A Slow Regard of Silent Things. When I found it in the store I was captivated by the description and was sold by time I read the first three pages. By time the people I was with at the bookstore were ready to leave, I was fifty pages in. It is absolutely amazing. Some of my friends who have or are currently reading it found the beginning a little boring but usually started to enjoy it once Kvothe reached the University. I loved it from the very start.

--The Lightbringer series by Brent Weeks The Prism is the most powerful person in the world. High priest and emperor. But Prism’s never last very long. Seven years at best and occasionally fourteen. Gavin Guile knows exactly how much longer he has left. Five years to complete five impossible goals. When Gavin finds out he has a son born after the war with his brother Dazen Guile, he must decide how much he’s willing to pay to protect a secret that could tear the world apart as it heads toward the start of another war. Gavin Guile isn’t really Gavin Guile.

The magic in this series is really unique. It is called drafting where certain people can draft a color or three of the spectrum. Only the Prism can draft every color. Each color has different properties. Like yellow dissipates easily but is a really good light source. Super violet is invisible. Red makes fire. What color you can draft also impacts your personality a bit. Blues tend to like things to be ordered and like rules. Red’s have a shorter temper. Green drafters are more wild and reckless. But if/when you draft too much of your color(s) you can break the halo. Colors leaks to all of you eye instead of in just part of it. Once you break the halo, they kill you.

And yeah. Gavin is really Dazen. Dazen knocked out his brother during the final battle of the war and has been impersonating Gavin ever since. The real Gavin is actually in a secret prison underneath the tower that fake Gavin lives in. But more on that later. The first book (The Black Prism) is mainly about fake Gavin trying to prevent a war that he might have accidentally helped start when he went to find real Gavin’s son, named Kip. Kip is kind of annoying in the first book. He whines a lot and does some stupid things here and there. But seriously Kip. What made you think you could go and sneak into the enemy’s camp and rescue Kariss? As he grows into his drafting powers and experiences more, then he starts to get a lot better. At the end; as they are rescuing as many people as possible from the city that was attacked, fake Gavin gets stabbed by a strange knife and can no longer draft the color blue.

Then we also have Ironfist who is the head of the Black Guard, top soldiers who protect Gavin and other leaders on the Spectrum, mainly the White who helps the Prism run the kingdom. A blue drafter of few words but he is an amazing fighter and one of my favorite characters. There’s Kariss, Gavin’s love interest, a red and green biochrome. Also an amazing fighter. And all of Kip’s friends that appear in the second book. Then there’s Andross Guile. Gavin’s father who is evil. Or at least I thought so until the end of book three.

It’s a really good series. Four books so far. Eagerly awaiting book five. Book four destroyed most of my theories but created several more.

#the circle of magic #the circle opens #the circle reforged #tamora pierce #the name of the wind #the wise mans fear #a slow regard of silent things #patrick rothfuss #the lightbringer series #the black prism #the blinding knife #the broken eye #the blood mirror #brent weeks #books #sci fi books #ya books #book recommendations #book reviews

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magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics · 8 years ago

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Miss Nothing - Miss Everything Sequel - Request

Originally requested by @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester: Dean x reader have been married for years, she gets pregnant, but he doesn’t want it. She leaves but never moves on. He ends up in another relationship and about to marry her. At the altar, he decides he needs to be with reader and their child. Sequel requested by @winsmut (I need more), @essie1876 (I need to know what happens!!!), @mrs--banner (MOOOREEEEE AHHH), @a-stupid-pretty-girl-u-to-know (Part 2 for Miss Everything please?!?), @thoughtsfromtheam (Miss Everything is... everything... part 2??), anon ( 'Miss Everything', do you think that you could do a part2, ...), @leoqueen-maha ( OH MY CASTIEL!!! Does he find her? How? When? I NEED A MISS EVERYTHING SEQUEL PLEASE!...)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 3,951

Warnings: Daddy issues, I guess // I changed the time line a little for the sake of the story, as well. Also, un-edited because this is damn long and I had zero time.

A/N: Call me the angry mother with daddy issues from now on. This was a relief to write.

**Remember this is for the Sequel Friday special. ;)

Enjoy!

|Miss Everything|

It took him months, almost a year, but he finally located (Y/N). His heart skipped a beat when he saw her walking out of her house.

It wasn’t much of a big deal, it was small but it looked cozy and pretty, perfect for a child. Dean noticed a little plastic Barbie car at the front yard and butterfly stickers at one of the windows from the two story house.

She looked great. She had let her hair grow a bit more, and her face kept the youthful shinning he adored so much. She looked like someone who had gained and lost too much weight in a short amount of time, yet she looked gorgeous.

Dean was parked at the other side of the street, admiring her from afar, leaning on his black car. She hadn’t noticed him; she was picking up the toys from the entrance before leaving. Dean noticed a classic ford mustang in a delicious red colour. He remembered her love for classic cars, but was also pleased to see a children seat at the back.

He observed, patiently, dreaming of the minute her eyes connected with his – he had dreamt it ever since he left the Church and began his search for her – how her (Y/E/C) would show her the same heart-warming love and would shed happy tears; and her bright pink lips forming the biggest grin of them all… And how she would run to him, to hold him tightly not wanting to let him go. And Dean would apologize and make her all the kinds of promises he couldn’t do back in the day; and he would meet his child and they would be a family.

As his mind wandered to that fantasy, (Y/N) finished picking up and turned on the car, leaving him. Dean punished himself mentally for not being alert, and he also felt a bit sad that she hadn’t even noticed the black beauty behind him. How much she loved Baby, and the joyful glances she would give to it whenever it appeared at her front porch when Dean picked her up for a date.

He waited once more until she came back with a blonde kid with bright green eyes. She looked just like him, and she had a pink shirt with Led Zeppelin’s logo printed. She had a Barbie in hand, and he couldn’t help but to flinch when he noticed how it wore a hand-made leather jacket.

“Mommy!” The girl called. She didn’t have the typical squeaky and annoying tone every child has but rather a tougher one. “Can we go to the movies tonight?” She asked as (Y/N) helped her out of the car.

“Of course! Which movie would you like to watch?”

“Insidious!” She squealed happily. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and smiled lovingly at her.

“Finish your homework early and we’ll go.” The tiny girl didn’t argue, she nodded and ran back to the house.

(Y/N) stood there, taking the backpack and the groceries bags out. Dean knew he had to make his move then.

“I would…” He cleared his throat as he walked towards the woman he had once loved with all his heart, “I would love to join you… If you let me.”

(Y/N) froze dropping the bags to the floor. Dean was fast and caught them for her, offering his best puppy eyes. “Dean…” She whispered.

“Hi.” The signature Dean Winchester smile was flashed like a popstar shaking his hair to impress.

“You…” (Y/N)’s breath became heavy, and her eyes trapped the small tears that threatened to come out. It was just as Dean expected.

“I’m back… If you take me.” (Y/N) breathed in deeply and, when Dean thought she would hug him, she slapped him so hard he almost dropped the bags.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUGH?” She fumed, “A FREAKING SINGLE MOTHER THAT KNEW NOTHING OTHER THAN HUNTING FREAKING MONSTERS RAISING A CHILD FROM A MAN WHO ABBANDONED HER…”

“I know, I’m sorry…”

“SORRY?!” She let out a sarcastic laughter, “Do you even know her name?”

“Ma-Mary?” He suggested.

“Why on Earth would I name her that?!” She exclaimed.

“Because… it’s my mother’s name?” Dean had shortened like a submissive slave.

“Right, of course!” She hissed, “Why didn’t I think of naming my child after the mother of the man who abandoned us!” She face palmed angrily and took the bags off his hands.

“(Y/N), please.” He begged.

“Please?” She was about to cry, “That’s exactly what I… I begged you to think it through, I remained hopeful that you would change your mind and come back to us…”

“I came back, (Y/N).”

“Five years later, Dean.” She whispered bitterly, “She’s better without you.”

(Y/N) turned around to leave, hoping that her girl hadn’t heard the argument or that she wouldn’t notice her crying… Although, she always noticed when something was wrong. She was so smart and mature… Side effects of growing with a single mother that couldn’t get her shit together during her first year.

“Can you at least tell me her name?” Dean begged.

“Louise.” She replied nonchalantly and opened the door.

“What does it mean?” Dean asked again. (Y/N) took a deep breath.

“Warrior.”

Dean couldn’t blame her for reacting like that. Hell, he would’ve done the exact same thing. He had been so dumb, so naïve and narcissistic to think that (Y/N), out of all women, would take him back just like that after five years of raising her child all by herself… No, he had to earn that right and the first part of his plan was done. He hadn’t only confronted her and made her know he was willing to get them back, but he had also made sure to leave a little envelope on her mailbox with money he had saved over the years.

He had saved it for his retirement, apparently, but in reality he saved it just in case (Y/N) came back asking for help… he knew it was expensive to raise a child, and was now impressed that he had managed all by herself. Either way, he was willing to give her a monthly envelope with what he thought was enough money because, whether she took him back or not, he wanted to give his child the life he had kept her from.

His child… Little Louise with her golden looks and apple green eyes; with Barbies that needed hand-made clothes because nothing was badass enough, wanting to go to horror movies and listening to classic rock music… She was a dream come true and Dean’s heart ached at the thought of not being there while she grew up.

He had missed her first steps, her first words, her first everything… He didn’t want to miss the rest of it.

“Well, it could’ve been worse.” Sam told him once Dean arrived to the bunker to tell him every last detail.

“Worse?” Dean inquired angrily.

“I thought she would kill you.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“And you left me go with that in mind? What if she did kill me?” Sam hesitated.

“You kind of deserve it…” He said. Dean sighed heavily.

“I know…”

“So what does he look like?” Dean lifted an eyebrow, “Your child.”

“It’s a girl… Louise.” He explained with a sad smile, “She looks just like me… or mom.”

“Can’t deny I always knew we have strong genes…” Sam joked.

“But she’s a real bad-ass just like (Y/N)… She wanted to go watch Insidious and her Barbie had a leather jacket… Oh, and she wore a pink Led Zeppelin’s shirt!” Dean cheered. Sam observed with both sadness and joy at his brother’s reaction.

“She sounds awesome.” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah… I need to know her, Sam.” Dean spoke softly, “I need her to know I’m her dad… Even if she hates me.”

“She probably will…”

“She’s five.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam said, “I started hating on dad when I was three… And he never truly abandoned us so…” He clicked his tongue.

“How reassuring.” Dean hissed.

“I’m just saying, man… It will cost you and eye and half of the other to get them back.” Dean nodded, taking a sip from his beer. “I’ll help you, though.”

The next week, at night, Dean appeared back at her door. (Y/N) didn’t let him in, she simply walked out and shut the door behind her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She whispered angrily.

“I…”

“She’s asleep, Dean!” She insisted, “You can’t just come in at ten o’clock and ring the doorbell.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” He promised in the same low voice she was using.

“Of course it won’t, because I forbid you to come back.” Dean’s face fell.

“(Y/N), don’t do this, please.” Dean begged.

“Can’t you see?” She sniffed, “She’s grown thinking that her father doesn’t love her… And it’s not my words but the kids at school, the ones who bully her for not taking anyone for father’s day.”

“I had no idea…” Dean mumbled.

“Of course you don’t… You’re too busy living the bachelor life, drinking and sleeping around with skanks.” She hissed.

“I changed, (Y/N).” He insisted.

“Changed the outfit, perhaps. First time I see you wearing a shirt that’s not a squared flannel.” Dean looked down to see his red shirt over the black tee…

“(Y/N), please.” He begged once again.

“What would you even tell her? That you changed your mind? That you do love her?” She started crying, “That you made a mistake and want her back? She doesn’t want to hear it Dean…”

“How do you know?”

“Because we go to therapy, Dean!” She cried, “You think you suffered because daddy was out working? Imagine no daddy at all!”

“I’m… I’m sorry…” He too started crying, “I just didn’t want her to drag her into the life… I wanted her to have a normal life…”

“Leaving us wasn’t the way, that’s for sure.” She hissed, “Please, leave us alone.”

She entered the house, leaving a crying Dean at the door.

“Lame.” A younger voice spoke in the darkness. Dean got on alert, taking his gun out. “My mom’s gun is bigger.” It said and Dean followed it to the fence right next to the house, which lead to the backyard. Louise was sitting there, observing.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Dean inquired in an authoritarian voice.

“Shouldn’t you be apologizing?” She snapped back, chewing a pink bubble gum.

“It’s too late for candies.” He observed.

“It’s too late for trying to be a father.” She said.

“How old are you?” Dean inquired. Yes, children could be assholes but even so she spoke like an older person.

“Five.” She smirked cockily.

“Sassy, just like your mother.” Dean mumbled.

“Don’t forget smart.” Dean chuckled and nodded. “We’re still in the life.” she said, making sure to use a morbid tone for the last words. “Last weekend we hunted a vetala in Nebraska.”

“Really?” Dean walked closer so he was face to face to her.

“Yup.” She popped the p, “I killed them… Nobody ever suspects about the small ones.”

“Damn right, sweetheart.” Dean joked and she giggled. The sound of her made Dean’s heart melt. “So which is your favourite band?”

“One Direction.” His face fell once more and so she laughed loudly. “I’m joking, mom did the same when I told her… My favourite band is Blue Oyster Cult.” Dean smiled at her stumbling over “oyster”.

“Song?”

“I can’t just pick one.” She smiled shyly. Dean agreed with her. “Don’t listen to her… She still loves you, but she’s hurt…”

“I don’t think she loves me anymore.” Dean confessed sadly.

“If she didn’t she would already be married to Mr. Culton… My art teacher who is in love with her…” Louise shrugged her tiny shoulders.

“Maybe… But I have to follow her rules.” Dean explained sadly.

“Fine, let’s follow her rules.” She smirked mischievously, “At this time she goes back to bed and watches sci-fi shows until she falls asleep…”

“You want us to meet in secret?” Dean inquired softly.

“Only until she forgives you… I would really like to get to know my dad.” Dean shuddered.

“I’ll be here every night if that’s what you want.” He promised.

“Good, now leave before she notices your car is still parked outside… Oh and, bring me more bubble gum, Mrs. Hatkins doesn’t want to give me more because she says my teeth will rot.”

“She’s right.” Dean observed.

“If I have your teeth, no.” She snapped back, “Mom says you drink daily and your teeth are still perfect… And alcohol deteriorates them faster so…”

“Deteriorates? How do you even know that word?”

“I read.” She stated like it was the most obvious thing in the planet. “Now leave.”

“Right, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He promised, stroking a strand of her softly like he was afraid to touch her.

“Good night, dad.” She winked and jumped to the other side of the fence. Dean saw her small figure running back to the house. He walked back to his car and, before he got in, the lights of her room turned on and her cheeky face appeared at the window. She was showing him the exact box of bubble gum she wanted. Dean gave her a thumb up as a gesture that he understood and left.

For the rest of the week, he would park his car a few houses away and meet his daughter at the fence. They would talk about everything including the issues in Heaven and Castiel as well as the ridiculous things Mr. Culton would do to impress (Y/N).

One night, (Y/N) begged him to show her his car. Dean’s heart fluttered when the girl started quoting facts about that exact model and complimented his job at reconstructing her during the several accidents.

“When mom forgives you, can you give me a ride?” She inquired as they walked back to the house.

“Of course, where would you like me to take you?” She thought it for a second, pouting.

“As far as we can, so I can spend more time on it with you.” She smiled. The pink bubble gum was visible against one of her back teeth.

“Miss, you got yourself a deal.” Dean said as he lifted her over the fence to get her to the other side.

“You know?” She spoke before he left, “Mom always said you were a good man and I didn’t believe her because... You know.”

“I know…”

“But now,” She continued, “I agree with her.”

Dean was so happy to have finally bonded with his daughter. Of course, Sam was too but he insisted that it wasn’t a good idea to see Louise without (Y/N)’s permission, knowing that there were legal actions she could take.

“But she’s so smart!” Dean continued.

“I know, you’ve said it before.” Sam rolled his eyes but made sure to show his happiness with a smile.

“And her jokes!”

“We know.” Castiel added. He was very interested in Dean’s behaviour after meeting Louise.

“AND SHE SINGS!”

“Awesome…” Sam whispered, “What about (Y/N)?”

Of course, Dean hadn’t forgotten about her. Every week he would appear at her door to apologize. He gave her flowers, she threw them on his face; he got her an “I’m sorry” cake, and she took the lid off and threw it on his face. He had tried with all kinds of presents and none of them worked. Less to say, she wouldn’t receive the envelopes, instead, whenever he appeared, she would throw it back to him.

“Maybe she doesn’t need gifts…” Sam suggested, remembering how much of a simple girl (Y/N) was.

Louise tried to help him. She would list all the weird things Mr. Culton did so Dean avoided them, but even so (Y/N) didn’t want to see him.

That night, Dean arrived earlier than usual. He saw (Y/N) through the kitchen’s window, washing the dishes as Louise made a drawing at the table behind her. That was the kind of vision he wanted; (Y/N), Louise and him being a real family.

She was singing… It wasn’t the kind of singing one does to impress but rather the kind that comes out unconsciously. Dean’s heart fluttered at the sound of her voice; how much he missed her voice in the mornings, whispering his name…

Louise noticed him. She had the ears of a hunter, and so she made all kinds of faces for him to wait until (Y/N) left but he shook his head. He had decided to follow Sam’s advice.

Confidently, but inertly dying out of nerves, he knocked the door. Louise acted like she had no idea who that was and so (Y/N) dried her hands and opened. Before she could shut it on his face, Dean held the door and begged her for a chance.

“Begging doesn’t sit you, Winchester.” She hissed in a whisper.

“Mommy?” Louise called innocently, “Who is it?”

“No one, sweetie.” (Y/N) gave her a fake smile, “Just another sales man.”

Louis sighed heavily, jumping down of the chair with her drawing in hand and showing it to her.

“A sales man or my dad, Dean Winchester.” The tiny girl spoke. The drawing showed (Y/N) and Dean, holding hands with Louise sitting on his shoulders; there were hearts all around and flowers and dead monsters.

“What does your therapist says about the dead monsters in your drawings?” Dean inquired.

“She thinks it’s a reflection of my own nightmares that…” (Y/N) shut her mouth instantly, “Out!” She ordered.

“No, mom.” Louise begged.

“Honey, you don’t even know him!” (Y/N) squealed.

“Yes, I do.” Louise insisted and proceeded to confess her crimes.

“YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTER OUT OF THE HOUSE TO SHOW HER YOUR GODDAMN CAR?!” (Y/N) fumed once Louise finished.

“First of all, she’s our daughter.” Dean stated, “Second of all, you loved that car; and third of all, I took care of her and brought her back.”

They had stopped fighting with the door. (Y/N) kept it wide open but didn’t allow Dean to step in.

“I don’t care, Dean!” She insisted, “You can’t appear five years later and try to win her with Baby and bubble gum… Which by the way,” she turned to Louise, “you can’t chew bubble gum so late at night every day!”

“That’s exactly what I told her…” Dean mumbled.

“Yet you brought her more boxes and… And you don’t have the right to tell my daughter what to do!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“Our daughter.” Dean repeated.

“No, you might’ve helped with bringing her… but the one that raised her and took care of and all of that is me.” (Y/N) fumed.

“She has a point.” Louise observed.

“Go to your room.” (Y/N) ordered.

“I think she has the right to listen to what I need to tell you.” Dean muttered.

“No! Parents talk about their problems while the kids play. Also, you can’t give me the contrary because we’re supposed to… I’m supposed to make the right decisions for her.” She corrected herself. Truth was, she had always dreamt of Dean coming back and being parents together but after the damage and pain Louise had suffered… The world would never understand the pain a mother feels when her child suffers.

“Please, (Y/N).” Dean begged.

“Please, mom.” Louise joined her. (Y/N) could resist a pair of green puppy eyes but too was too much to bear and so they ended up at the living room, with Dean sitting in front of the two girls ready to apologize.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Idiot is short.” (Y/N)interrupted.

“Fine, I’m more than an idiot… I’m an asshole, an awful person and I certainly don’t deserve your forgiveness. I was about to marry someone else… But when I was there, at the altar, I couldn’t think of anyone else but you, (Y/N).” He confessed, “I never stopped loving you, not even when we broke up, you have always been the love of my life. I broke my dad’s rules to marry you when we were young, and I broke my own heart and yours trying to keep you and Louise safe from hunting.”

“Which of course didn’t happen.” Louis whispered, receiving a stern glare from both of them.

“My point is that I suffered just as much as you did… I imagined every night how Louise would look like, and how her personality would be and you as a mother… And I tortured myself with those thoughts because I deserved it, and I never looked for you before because I thought I would be rewarding myself if I did and I deserved to be punished for… For kicking you out.”

“And now you’re back.” She muttered.

“I’m back because I don’t want any other life if it isn’t with you two… I don’t… don’t expect you to take me back, not at least in five years…”

“Ten.” Louise stated.

“Ten years. But I want to be with you… I want to go to the movies with you and watch horror films, and I want to go hunting and I want to cook dinner and go to the park… Everything a father and a husband does…”

“Only father.” (Y/N) stated.

“We are still married, though… Remember?” Louise frowned, “The paper from Vegas wasn’t precisely official so there was no divorce to be made unless we went back to Vegas…”

“I don’t care, Dean.” (Y/N) whispered.

“I know.” He cleared his throat, “But please, let me try.”

“You were scared that your life would come after us…” (Y/N) muttered.

“And now my best friend is an Angel, I share drinks with the King of Hell and I have God’s number… I’m not really afraid anymore.” He confessed.

“God’s number?” (Y/N) inquired.

“Yup, remember Chuck?”

“I KNEW IT!” Dean chuckled.

“I can take care of you now… Please, give me a chance.” (Y/N) thought it for longer than Dean expected, sharing knowing glances with Louise.

“Weekends… And you can call her after school.” She finally stated, “If it’s true that you changed… We’ll see if it escalates from that.”

“I promise I’ll be the best father ever, right kiddo?” Louise giggled and they high fived.

“Right… It’s school day tomorrow so…” Dean nodded and got up.

“Right, sorry.” He said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

(Y/N) walked Dean out. “If you hurt her…”

“I won’t.” Dean promised. “I want to make things right with her… And you.” (Y/N) nodded, “In fact… Louise told me she has a sleep over next Friday… Maybe I could take you to the midnight show at the movies, like in the old times.”

She chuckled. “There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Then stargazing… Or I could show you the bunker where we live now and introduce you to Castiel… Sam would love to see you.” Dean insisted.

“Baby steps, Dean. You hurt us badly.” She said.

“Right, sorry.” (Y/N) bit her lips and, before he left, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Drive safe, and tell Sam and Castiel that they can come to dinner next weekend.” Dean smiled widely at her. She got back inside and Dean walked to Baby.

He took one last look the house and noticed Louise at the window giving him thumbs up cheerfully. Dean replied with the same gesture. Louise jumped away from the window, and two second later (Y/N) appeared where her daughter had been. She gave Dean a stern glare and he apologize silently. She shook her head and moved away. The lights of the room went out and so her left.

It would take him years, but he was sure he would get them back sooner or later.

*Requests are ALWAYS open.*

Masterlist.

Dean Tags: @coffeebreakandwinchesters @oaisara @rdy4thevoid Supernatural Tags: @dreamingintheimpalawithdean

Vote for the next Sequel Friday fic!

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miss-bibliophile · 4 years ago

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James: Spring Duettino, 1815

A/N: This is my second entry from Reign of Blood involving original characters I had created.

This one I was focusing on a different character, James Henry Hawthorne, and Atticus Willhelm Ashley Haugen. And good gods that’s a long name, why don’t I just shorten it to Atticus Willhelm Haugen? Or just Atticus? Anyway, they were part of the same story I had been conjuring up at the time.

The original plan was to go into more depth (at some point with future entries) about the world and characters. Atticus and James would be exposed, eventually, as vampires; Atticus being the older by almost a century (that includes his human years) and James being his aide or companion.

As with the first recollection of past creative writing entries from my Reign of Blood account: I have not edited or revised anything presented after the cut. As for the dialogue and word choice, there may be anachronisms. This is, again, because I’m not intimately familiar with how people spoke or acted in the past. As for when this takes place, I remember picturing it in early 19th century.

Please continue reading below for the prose.

_____ & _____

The large double doors were swung open by two gentlemen wearing white gloves. The dark entry became immediately illuminated by the light of candles, reflected off grand mirrors on the far walls. From corner to corner was the color of cream, gold, and reds and whites. It was a very warm atmosphere thickened by the air of excitement and sweat. James had not been to a party this large in size. Atticus glanced around with a bit of indifference, smiling when someone greeted him, and moving between the bodies standing from wall to wall. Both men dressed up in fresh, tailored outfits. James looked at Atticus. The older gentleman nodded his head.

While Atticus made for the less crowded area nearer the small ensemble playing a light opus, James walked aimlessly with his eyes searching for someone to join a dance. The room became stuffy rather quick. Everyone in attendance seemed unaffected by the throbbing air. He was not used to these kind of gatherings not like Atticus. His collar frlt tight. Just a small adjustment and he already drew glances from some judging eyes framed by crow's feet and sagging skin.

James stood off to the side to get a better view of the room. Laughter and chatter battled against the backdrop of strings and a piano. He caught word of gossip as he stood.

"Did you hear about Mr. Waterston's daughter?" "Yes! The miller's son - I daren't believe!"

"The stock will surely plummet by the end of this week." "What did I tell you about Lord Mark? An idiot if I ever saw one."

He drowned out what he could to draw focus away from the ones surrounding him. They all smelled of tobacco and rust. His mind reeled at the number of people in attendance. This was his first true outing in fifteen years. Not since Atticus had saved him had he made an appearance to a party. Everything was familiar. Everything was new. He could hear all the sounds in the room. He could taste the air, mixed with smoke from candles and cigarettes and the burning friction of the dancing feet against the wooden floor. It was such a disgusting smell for a beautiful sight.

James glanced over to check on Atticus, but the other was no longer there. The music quieted. James looked around to find a partner for the next dance. A small quartet of young ladies stood to the side. He approached them with a forced calm and a charming smile. "Excuse me, ladies."

They stopped their chitter - which James had picked up being over who looked ridiculous in which fashion styles and who they perceived as trying too hard to fit into status - to look at the tall gentleman. Whatever he did, he heard each of their hearts beating faster. His smile grew wider.

"Would any of you ladies allow me the chance for a dance?"

One of the blonde ones, short and rather thin in her periwinkle dress, giggled. "It would be a pleasure to be your partner, mister... uhm?"

"Hawthorne."

None of the others spoke. They grinned and waved their friend and James away onto the floor. Immediately, the music picked up into an energetic canter. The young woman he danced with felt weightless in his arm. He had to remind himself to be careful with his grip; the last thing they needed was a snapped spine to sour their evening.

The music continued, and the dancing went on for several minutes. A glimmer of light caught James' attention above the rest. His gaze darted over heads as he spun with the blonde. He found what distrcted him after the fourth turn.

Ringlets of ebony held into a tight crown with thin ribbon. Skin kissed by the sun. He spotted a distinct freckle to the left of her right ear. Lips tinted to accentuate the color of her dress. James did not notice the music faded. The dance had sped up faster, but time was slowed down.

"Sir?"

James came out of a stupor. Before him, the hair of blonde turned dark. Amber eyes turned to a smokey blue. He let out air he had been holding forever, and looked around in a daze.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Hawthorne, miss." He gathered himself enough to speak.

The lady smiled as if she found something charming about his bewildered state. "Mister Hawthorne, I am Catherine. You look like you need a drink. Why don't we introduce each other over one?"

#throwbackthursday #short fic #original content #original character #creative writing

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canaryatlaw · 7 years ago

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alright. so today. pretty good. I forget what time exactly I got up, it was around 11:30ish. our dopey golden retriever, who’s not supposed to be upstairs, nudged the door open to get into my room, and then the door closed behind him and he couldn’t get out, so he started barking and I’m like BUDDY I’M TRYING TO SLEEP but I had to get up and let him out, so I was pretty much awake from then on. Had a bagel for breakfast because New York, then started working on editing my poverty law final before sending it in. I didn’t end up changing too much, just edited a few words and added an additional sentence here and there. It ended up being 13 1/2 pages, and I was pretty satisfied with it, especially given how troubled I was about the first question. so I sent it in and was officially done with the semester 🙌🏻 fucking finally, although last year at this time I was still in Chi taking my last final, so I’m glad I got an extra week at home, even if I had to work through some of it. Around 3 or so I headed out to Sally’s quickly because I need to dye my hair again soon (last time I did it was mid-October, and the color is still holding pretty good but my roots are grown out quite a bit) and I needed more developer. Accomplished that rather quickly, then headed to Target to accomplish a few things, namely to pick up a prescription, try to find a few more clothing items because I’ve realized the amount of clothing I brought on this trip is sorely inadequate to what I needed, and then get snacks and drinks because our house never has either. Prescription was easy enough, went to the clothing section and snagged a justice league t-shirt, but then saw these awesome gryffindor and wonder woman jacket and sweatpants set and they were SO great but of course they were all primarily made out of polyester so I couldn’t get any of them (though maybe that’s a good thing, because I would’ve been way too tempted to buy all of them, and lord knows I don’t actually need more clothing). I picked up a few pairs of yoga pants/more sturdy leggings that should be of help in the coming days. Then I headed to the food section and stocked up on snacks before heading home. Had dinner, then started making the dough for the gingerbread cookies I’m making, because it has to be refrigerated over night. I’ve used this recipe for the last two years and it’s consistently very good, the original calls for a full tablespoon of both ground ginger and cinnamon, and they are a bit bitey, so I prefer to make them with half a tablespoon of each which still has plenty of spice but isn’t quite so powerful. That didn’t take too long, and I just chilled out for a bit afterwards before deciding to do some prep for another set of cookies I can hopefully make tomorrow. This recipe called for oreo cookie butter, which, as the name suggests, is the oreo version of the biscoff based cookie butter every knows and loves by now, so I went to make that. I had seen several recipes floating around a while back that can basically be used for any type of cookie, generally blended with oil of some sort. a lot of them used coconut oil, but I really don’t like the taste of coconut oil, so I searched for a different one and wound up with one that used shortening (which worked because I already had to buy it for a different part of this recipe). so I dumped it all in the food processor, and it took a while and a bit of encouragement, but it came out quite nicely. Hopefully I’ll be able to get both batches of cookies done tomorrow, and hopefully start doing some exercising now that I’m actually done with finals. the rest of the night i just kind of hung out, and when nobody was around I turned on the mid-season finale of Designated Survivor from last week that I missed, and WOW DO I HAVE FEELINGS. first off, the medical neglect of a child from a religious perspective of course pissed me off for obvious reasons, and I’m of course bothered by the idea that it pushes forth that children are basically property of their parents whom the parents can do whatever they want to, even if it results in their death (also, I really don’t understand the biblical extrapolation that would lead one to believe the bible condemns blood transfusions??? like that’s some serious twisting of scripture right there). but at least that was solved perfectly because Kirkman is the bomb, but then of course there was the ending, where (spoiler ahead, obviously) the first lady was unceremoniously killed in a car accident and I was just....ugh!!!! I was really mad, because I LOVED Alex as a character, she was such a kickass female lawyer who got shit done and I’m really sad to lose her. I’m sure they’ll get some good plot lines out of it as a result, and I did read that it was because the actress wanted to take another opportunity, so I can’t be too mad at the showrunners about that. poor Kirkman, though. that’s awful. I hope it means we get to see more of the kids at least now, because I miss them being around. Anyway, by the end my dad was watching it with me, and when it was over he suggested we watch some superheroes (he’s a super casual viewer of Supergirl and Flash, and hadn’t watched anything since we watched a few Supergirl episodes over thanksgiving) so I started showing him the crossover, and we got through the first two episodes. I was interested to see how he’d react, and I brought up a few comments about how some people were not pleased with the plotline. my dad was born in 1946 (yeah, he’s old, I know), literally right after world war II ended, and when his father returned after fighting against the nazis. he didn’t seem to bothered by it though, he just kinda said “bad guys are bad guys” which I guess is how he sees it. I definitely was laughing to myself a LOT during the early Alex and Sara scenes, because I know that makes him feel so uncomfortable and I derive much entertainment from that, lol. but yeah, watched the first two episodes and we’ll probably pick up with the last two tomorrow night (when I’ll get to see him react to Leo and the Ray, which should be very entertaining). And yeah, then I went upstairs and started getting ready for bed, and here we are. At some point during the day my throat became really raw and I started coughing a bit, definitely not bronchitis level coughing (yet, anyway) but it’s like I have to be very conscious of my breathing so I don’t irritate it and set off another coughing fit. sigh. hopefully it’ll pass soon. Anyway, it’s past 2 am now, so I think it’s time I went to bed. Goodnight my dearies. Talk to you soon.

#daily journal #December 2017

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reekierevelator · 8 years ago

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Old Friends - a short story, in seven parts, by Brian Bourner Part 7 (finale)

Donaldina was absolutely enthralled by my old friend, the manly adventurer, and I could see Callum was equally taken with her pseudo-aristocratic personality. After our rapid marriage she had changed her name to Donaldina McKinlay-Ferguson-Gulliver. Apparently McGivern was still beyond the pale. Callum decided to stay with us for a few days, taking full advantage of my friendship, goodwill, and hospitality.

Not only did I give Callum a room, I gave him full use of my car and even paid for his meals when we all went out together. Whenever I vaguely mentioned there was a convenient bank in town Callum seemed to be struck down by a cold, an allergic reaction, a foot blister, or some other minor ailment which prevented him venturing outdoors. He never seemed to have any money.

When he talked of Bangkok he mentioned an old school friend who had moved there. When he talked of Santiago he mentioned a geologist friend who had a friend who now lived there. Speaking of the beauty of the Japanese mountains – ‘almost as impressive as Scotland’s’ – he mentioned an old work colleague who had learned Japanese while involved in a big project in Osaka and, after taking a Japanese wife, had decided to settle there. I began to detect a pattern in Callum’s travels.

After seven weeks my perception of Callum was less of an intrepid global adventurer and more of an insufferable travel bore and hypochondriac; more a world-travelling freeloader and international hitchhiker than any kind of cultural explorer.

But the more irritated I became with him the more Donaldina intervened on his behalf and berated me for treating my friend inhospitably.

Donaldina’s name being a little unwieldy I’d taken to shortening it to Donny, but when I called her that now both she and Callum wagged their fingers at me.

When Donaldina and I happened to find ourselves alone one afternoon I passed a vague comment on Callum’s parsimonious approach to our hospitality, hinting that he increasing appeared to be some kind of a sponger.

Donaldina’s cosmetically engineered eyebrows shot up.

“Goodness me, whatever are you implying Paul? It hardly becomes you to heap opprobrium on Callum, who simply has a more easy-going approach to life. Sharing the cultural knowledge he gathers in his travels helps all the people of world understand each other so much better.”

Just as I was about to say ‘You’re making him sound almost godlike’ Donaldina was off again.

“As for being a sponger, well of course he has liquidity issues, but they simply relate to his savings being in long term trusts and other non-liquid investment vehicles that enfold his not insignificant holdings of stocks and bonds.”

Of course I didn’t think it appropriate to press Donaldina on exactly how she’d come by such details.

“Callum’s such a lively man Paul. Being more on the dull and boring side yourself you probably can’t understand such an exciting attitude to life.”

The ‘dull and boring’ threw me a bit. After two more weeks I started somewhat impatiently asking Callum when he intended to travel on to Scotland.

“Ah,” he said, “bit short of the readies to organise travel just at the moment.”

His stay was costing me so much by that point that I impulsively offered to buy him a plane ticket.

“Sound,” he remarked. “Good man Paul, respect, muchas gracias. I knew I could rely on you.”

I realized my relationship with Donaldina was becoming a little strained. Increasingly I felt I had to walk round her on tiptoes for fear of saying something that might set her off. The atmosphere in the house became a tinderbox.

All the same, it came as something of a bolt from the blue when Donaldina announced one evening that “I’m tired of France, Paul. It’s ideal for vacations, of course, but living here all the time, I mean… it’s too hot, it’s ruining my skin. All these insects. And so many feral dogs… half of them probably rabid. And the shop assistants are refusing to speak to me in English. I’m sure it’s not as fashionable here as it used to be. There are too many poor people in the streets. Don’t you think we should move back to Edinburgh?”

The pleading recurred daily.

“We need to be back where our friends are, surely you can see that?”

“With friends like them…” I muttered glumly.

In the end I paid for a plane fare so she could return to Edinburgh for a week or two and catch up with her friends

That was when Donaldina and Callum left for Edinburgh together, three months after Callum had arrived.

Later I received a lawyer’s letter. A certain Donaldina McKinlay-Ferguson-MacThorcadail, now living in Dunkeld, was demanding a divorce on grounds of desertion, viz. my decision to live permanently in France. Apparently her case was supported by my two old aunts who still lived there and who claimed I’d run away to France and never came to see them. Frankly I’d begun to believe I was actually well shot of both Callum and Donaldina. I felt they probably deserved each other and I was happy to settle for an uncontested divorce.

Of course the house had to be sold, and since Donaldina officially still had children my share was about a third of the house’s sale value. It was just enough for a small studio apartment in the less salubrious section of Avignon.

A later article I spotted in a week old edition of the Scotsman mentioned Findlay MacKay Art Ltd again. The Slavery-Colquhouns of Moray Place, in Edinburgh’s New Town, were claiming their teenage son had accidentally thrown out one of their smaller Renoirs to make space for a large poster of some entertainer known as Beyoncé Knowles. They claimed this self-same painting was sold at auction by Findlay MacKay, who had pretended to be the owner.

Findlay’s agent, Valerie Norris, was reported as dismissing this idea of paintings being retrieved from refuse bins as preposterous. However, the auction house involved was also investigating whether it had been misled in terms of the work’s provenance. Even the City Council had weighed in with a claim that if the painting had indeed been put out for the recycling collection then at that point it belonged to the Council and any financial claim rested with them. Ms Norris had responded to these claims with the blunt assertion that “It’s all rubbish. Findlay MacKay was clearly the owner of any paintings he sold, all capital transfer tax and VAT due on such capital asset transactions having been paid by him.”

I concluded I was definitely never going to see any of the money from the picture’s sale.

Mike phoned me, as drunk as ever, saying “Wharabout old Findlay’s flat eh?”

“What about it,” I asked, having heard nothing whatever.

“His Jimmy Corruther, Lachlan, turns up from Canada, same time as his sister, Jenifer, arrives from Australia. Both been phoning the flat non-stop and getting no reply. They claim to be the owners and want to sell. Grandkids in need of a hand up. They get the polis to break down the door. Bright lights, a sweet smell, and pot plants covering every inch. Bloody cannabis factory. Took Findlay into custody but in the end some other guy, Dylan something or other, has been arrested and the flat’s been sold. There was some story of the Val woman making sure Findlay got a share of the price when the flat sold, and of him passing it on to some underworld character, guy called Lennie, to stop him taking the cost of lost cannabis plants out of his hide.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’m no Mutt ‘n’ Jeff yet Paul. Sooner or later everything reaches the Deoch. Look, sorry, I’m a bit cream crackered, needing a riddle-me-ree Paul. Speak again soon eh?”

With all my money gone I was left with so little to live on that I swallowed my pride and returned to Jacques’s and asked if he could find me a job. My old position as curator / salesman had long since been filled of course, but out of compassion Jacques found me a job as the shop’s – sorry art gallery’s - general cleaner.

It’s rather a lonely life now. I’ve taken to using public transport to travel around the Cote d’Azur on my days off, thoroughly searching the rubbish tips of St Raphael, Cannes, and Antibes. Sometimes I bring home a plastic bin bag full of stuff. To be honest my little studio flat is now crammed so full of stuff that there is a bit of an odour and my neighbours have started complaining about ‘un puanteur intolérable’.

But, well, you never know when you’ll be lucky, do you?

“C’est la vie,” as I said to my new friend, Gaston le Vieux, in Le Bateau Bleu. That’s the local bar in which I now find myself anchored every night.

THE END

#short story #Reekie Revelator #humour #humor #edinburgh #scotland #art

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