#forbidden by criminals so they could pass more women around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scribbleseas · 4 years

Text

The Indignant Pawn, Chapter VI: The Importance of Pluck

Description: You are Y/n Y/l/n- formerly known as Princess Helena, the runaway princess.

You're an assassin for hire who only agrees to find the worst of London's criminals at the business end of your knife; until a mysterious woman hires you to end the likes of Ciel Phantomhive, the King of the Underworld. You find yourself trading your weapons for your abandoned family crest in order to infiltrate his home as none other than Princess Marie-Louise, your twin sister. What's to happen when you find that the young Earl is more than a callous businessman?

OVERALL STORY WARNINGS: sexual assault, objectification, misogyny, death, detailed description of blood/gore, detailed description of murder, lying, impersonation, theft, weapons, detailed panic attacks and flashbacks, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Author’s Note: Hi! Thank you so much for enjoying this story so far! I can’t wait to take you down this wild road with this cast of characters. As always, if you have any questions or concerns about the story warnings, please don’t hesitate to contact me! Please note that the warnings are subject to change by each chapter.

-Dan

⇠ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER ⇢

. . .

FEBRUARY 14TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

“Y/n!” Andrea’s calloused hands pulled you into a tight bear hug, causing you to stumble forward, uncoordinated by the sudden movement of the door and her springing towards you and Autumn. Reluctantly, you melted into the embrace from the sole reminder that this was the same woman that showed you the separation between your traumatic childhood and reclaiming this facade. Not to mention, a few phrases of conversational Spanish.

“Buena noches, Andrea,” (Good evening, Andrea) you greeted halfheartedly, your foul mood having yet to completely subside from the front of your mind. Without Doña’s need to meddle, you never would have needed to leave the warmth of the guest quarters in the middle of the night in the first place. The mission was completely under your control- the objective remaining as crystal clear as it was on day one. Killing Lord Phantomhive was not nearly the challenge your subconscious was making it out to be.

“¿Dónde está Doña?” (Where is Doña?) You asked once Andrea released you and motioned towards the reins that you clutched in your hand. Asking for the location of a local stable would have been next on your course of action. However, she seemed to know exactly where to keep Autumn for the time being.

“Inside...still waiting for you. Diego will show you the way,” the woman gestured to the familiar man as he crossed his arms in the doorframe. The same playful smirk tugged at his lips, suggesting that he heard some kind of joke that he didn’t dare repeat. Andrea started off with Autumn in tow, the horse’s tail flicking back and forth lethargically.

“The dress hugs tight,” Diego commented patronizingly as he led you through the hall. You could tell by his comment that Diego was only trying to provoke your outrage, no matter how you tried to keep your face neutral. Of course, the dress fit your frame better- you were eating three meals a day alongside some form of an extravagant dessert. There was no shame in enjoying good food while it was available to you.

“You’re one to talk,” you glared at Diego’s back as he walked. His black trench coat was tied around his lean frame tightly, the bottom shifting with each step that he took. The outline of his gun holster was clearly fastened around his waist beneath the coat. There was nothing more ridiculous than the thought of a man like Diego having the morality to murder someone. But you supposed if that was the case, he wouldn’t affiliate with women such as Doña- or yourself.

“Doña, she arrives,” Diego stopped short before a small living room. The vicinity was warmed by a tame fire in the fireplace, the orange hue painting the rest of the room. As the rest of the rooms were, this room was notably empty- save for two sofas and a single table between them.

The lady herself, Doña, occupied the middle of one of the couches, nursing a rum-spiked coffee, her thin fingers wrapped around the thin stem of the glass. The scent of the over-proofed rum drifted about the room, causing you to cringe. You’d never understand why Spaniards preferred their coffee with hard liquor mixed in- according to Andrea, the combination was called a carajillo.

“Lovely,” Doña’s painted lips spread into a satisfied grin, the corners of her mouth pulling upwards. “Sit Y/n. Sit,” she said, patting the cushion next to her with a free hand. You made it a point to sit in the middle of the empty sofa across from her, your hands smoothing over your petticoats as you regarded the light ecru Doña wore. The majority of the top layer was made of tulle so to create a softer ambiance to oppose her burgundy lip color- such as a shade that was forbidden for royalty, or any self-respecting woman.

“I’ll go help Carmen with the...bebé,” Diego cringed as the sound of Doña’s wailing child sounded from the floor above. “Excuse me.”

“I haven’t all night, Doña,” you snapped impetuously as you watched the woman’s face, contemplative as she listened to her daughter sob. You heard Carmen seethe ‘¿Por qué no podemos ponerla en adopción ya?’ and in response, Diego only laughed. Andrea was still putting your horse away, but the sobbing would likely stop the second she entered the baby’s line of sight.

“If only you had the same sense of urgency in completing the mission I assigned a month ago,” Doña took a long drink of her carajillo, her face twisting at the taste. “Did you not guarantee me seven days at most?”

In a fit of haughtiness, you had made a claim that went something along those lines. After all, the longest you spent on one mission before this one, was waiting for the servant rotation of Agatha Tolton to switch in your favor. The woman was rarely alone and you preferred to only kill your targets during a mission.

“There are unforeseen obstacles inside the estate,” you lied. In truth, you spent plenty of time alone with the Earl- three meals a day and occasionally, time in the foyer at night. Hiding your dagger in the folds of a nightgown and stabbing him wasn’t out of your capabilities and yet, you were postponing it for the comfortable treatment- even if it was all stolen from Marie’s identity.

“Unforeseen obstacles in the estate,” Doña repeated, unfazed by your lie. “What sort of obstacles could possibly be new to you?”

“There’s something...uncertain about his butler,” this concern nagged the back of your mind from the moment you got there. From the second he greeted you in flawless German and subtly as each day passed on. Despite being the head butler of the estate, he was too capable at some points- always being prepared when you and the Earl requested tea or hot chocolate in the dead of night, answering questions that you purposely keep from saying. His speed.

“Sebastian Michaelis?” Doña’s frown deepened, making her look at least five years older. Creases from constant scowling marred the corners of her lips and between her symmetrical eyebrows. “We discussed his role in Phantomhive’s life. You said-” her accent butchered the Earl’s name, turning the i into an e, which resulted in his name sounding more like Phantomheave, rather than Phantomhive.

“Doña, I’m aware of what I told you,” you hissed as she brought the flute of spiked coffee to her lips and drank again. “I said that he wouldn’t present an obstacle to my objective.”

“And yet?” She asked, goading your temper, tempting you to take the drink out of her hands and dump the rest of its steaming contents down her nightgown. Your fingers curled into fists, as you compelled yourself to stay seated on the couch. Your nails dug into the flesh of your palm, the sensation tolerable, but something to focus on, nevertheless.

“And yet, I’m reassessing my strategy because of him,” you lied. Sebastian made for a decent excuse, above all of his other uses.

A brief moment of silence passed before she asked, “must I eliminate him for you, Y/n? It would be a shame to need to aid my hired killer-...almost as distressing as wasting a handsome face such as his, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Looks have nothing to do with anything, Doña,” you ignored the turn of her curt grin while she finished off the rest of her carajillo with a sigh. She put the empty glass on the low table that sat in between the two of you, the bottom landing with a soft clink. “If I have to kill Sebastian Michaelis, I will do it myself.”

“We can share tactics with you,” Diego offered from the side of the room, where he and Carmen were standing. The baby had stopped wailing several minutes ago, moments after Andrea returned from putting your horse away. “You seem as if you need many,” he teased, sharing a patronizing laugh with Doña. At your glare, his face sobered, although a smile seemed to taunt the corners of his lips.

“Your tactics,” you scoffed, “what skill does it take to pull the trigger of a gun?” You could recall the weight of the handgun you had used at fourteen, successfully killing two men within minutes of each other. How could Diego pride his reliance on a weapon?

“You bitch! You’ll, you’re going to bloody p--” James screamed, glowering at you as he struggled to get his fumbling hands in place. But he was too slow. He fell to the ground, blood beginning to blossom near his lower ribs.

“You’re a clever one, Princess,” Diego chuckled, showing the palms of his hands in defeat. “I might ask you for tactics for how you look so detached,” he quipped, shaking his shoulders to create an animated shiver.

“Princesa de Hielo,” Carmen mumbled, which caused Doña to laugh again, the effects of rum beginning to seep into her cold personage. Her deep brown eyes settled back on you, hardening as you met her gaze. Eye contact was quite a fragile social concept- you weren’t confident with Spanish customs, but in Germany, it expressed attentiveness but in excess it expressed pride.

“The two of you...go retrieve Y/n’s horse. She’s souring the atmosphere,” Doña shifted on the couch to turn her back to you, and the liquid in her glass flute hit the side and slid down again. There wasn’t much to the drink when you sat down in the first place and now, the glass was nearly empty.

Doña waited for Diego and Carmen to leave before she lazily got to her feet and stood before you, her expression sobering as if she hadn’t finished off her drink. With her proximity, you could smell the faint tinge of rum from her lips. “And as for you- I want him dead. I don’t care how it’s done- simply finish him off and you’ll have your compensation. Do you understand?”

Her pupils were nearly swallowed whole by her umber irises, the threat in them ever-present.

. . .

FEBRUARY 15TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

Within the first few minutes of riding back to the Phantomhive Estate, snow began to fall, dropping from the clouds in fat flurries that rolled down your neck and made it nearly impossible to see fifteen feet in front of you. The wind whistled in your ears as you encouraged Autumn to continue her steady gait, even as the snow began to stick on the cobblestone streets of the city.

The distance from the manor to the heart of the city was sizable without the beginnings of a blizzard, but the horse’s hesitation, as well as your own, had severely delayed your arrival time. In fact, by the time you were scaling the wall of the manor, the sun was beginning to ascend the horizon, starting the day as the snow continued to pile and stick. Your fingers were numb since you had to remove your thick gloves to properly cling to the stones that jutted out of the main house’s foundation, leaving them vulnerable to the sharp surfaces and cold air. You were lucky that your quarters were located on the second floor, but that wouldn’t matter if Mey-Rin found the room empty upon entering to wake you.

The moment you reached the window beside your bed, you swung one leg over the still and then the other, reveling in the fact that you had, in fact, managed to return before Mey-Rin entered to wake you. Your trembling hands made messy work of tearing off the sides of the gown that were pinned to the stays on your coset, letting each piece of your riding habit fall carelessly to the floorboards until you were left standing in your corset that sat over your white shift- the base of any dress. Unlacing it was never this challenging when you sported middle-class clothing articles, leaving you to tug at the strands that kept the constrictive item together as several pairs of footsteps began to grow closer to the closed door of your quarters.

Your front teeth sunk into the inside of your lip as your descent into panic worsened with each passing second, fruitlessly attempting to untie the knots that you had secured yourself. Clearly, you had made some kind of mistake in re-dressing yourself prior to leaving for Doña’s new home.

This was exactly what you had feared.

“And you absolutely certain she isn’t here, Mey-Rin?” Sebastian’s posh voice questioned, moments before the door swung open, revealing you half-dressed and positioned in front of your open window. Mey-Rin and Sebastian were behind the Earl, the maid’s eyes glassy as if she was about to cry, and the butler’s face completely impassive, like a statue’s. Instantaneously, the Earl’s gaze fled to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere as long as it wasn’t on you.

Your hands fell to your sides and in the most delayed reaction, you exclaimed, “raus!” (out!). You turned your back to the doorway and hugged yourself.

“I believe she is far from missing, thank you,” the Earl’s voice was steadier than you would have anticipated, “my apologies, Your Highness,” the sound of rapid steps that implied his and Sebastian’s departure down the corridor followed as you released a weak exhale.

“I came to wake you and you were missin’, yes you were,” Mey-Rin said . “I assumed the worst, I’m sorry Your Highness.” she asked for permission to undo the thick knots that you couldn’t undo. You nodded once, facing her as she nimbly undid each one. “The young master is going to want to know where you were off to...he was awfully concerned havin’ just returned from Lady Elizabeth’s…” if Mey-Rin wasn’t paid to fuss over you, you might’ve pitied her.

“I love the snow. I wanted to be outside on my own- I thought I could return before you notice I went out,” you explained, the lie was on the tip of your tongue from the moment you fell behind your plan. Mey-Rin breathed a sigh of relief and began to properly lace the corset and fasten a new stomacher, this one was a deep shade of red, resembling claret with its notes of magenta. The rest of the gown matched the shade.

“The snow is much prettier here in the countryside," Mey-Rin agreed as she continue to prepare you for the rest of the day; twisting your hair into another tight bun, brushes of powder over your face and shoulders and gentle hands of rogue on the apples of your cheeks. Within several strokes of a brush, your familiar blemishes disappeared- like a wave of a magic wand.

Each step from your room to the main dining room maximized the nostalgic pit in your stomach. You sat to the Earl’s side at the breakfast table, as per usual. He was uncharacteristically quiet, leisurely lifting his steaming cup of tea to his lips and taking a long drink, his eye having yet to properly leave you. Lord Phantomhive did well to remind you of Governess Lydia and the countless instances you were scolded by the woman after an unbearably long silence.

As a grown woman, you were too old for this.

“Lord Phantomhive-” you started, only to be swiftly interrupted by the loud clunk that punctuated when he aggressively returned his teacup to its saucer on the table. Droplets of tea ran down the porcelain and pooled on the small dish. What waste.

His voice was fatally calm and as per usual, each word was punctuated to the syllable. “I am entrusted with your life, Your Highness. I thought it was clear that you aren’t to leave this estate unaccompanied without myself or Sebastian,” he said, “My duty to Her Majesty is to protect you to the extent of my capabilities and beyond that.”

“I was within the perimeter of this estate!” You countered, your hand pausing as you were about to spread a healthy bit of margarine over the head of a muffin, that Sebastian had decapitated for you. Instead, the continent fell from the smooth blade of your knife in a heap before you began to spread it. “If that is your grievance with this morning, then your contention is certainly misplaced. It should not be a crime for me to wish to be outside. Alone.”

“Your Highness, there is a death threat over your head. Your going outside unaccompanied is a point of contention for me, yes,” the Earl said, as if this information should have been obvious. Granted it made logical sense- defenseless royalty needed to remain within lines of defense, however, you posed as a needy princess who was unacquainted with the concept of no. “If you are so fascinated with snow, a commonality in your home country, then you might wait to ask-”

“Thank you for your concern,” you intervened icily, aware that you had waged a losing battle from the moment you protested. “Keep in mind that it’s quite easy for the walls of this mansion to grow dull, My Lord.”

. . .

FEBRUARY 17TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

The world outside of the windows was blank- completely grey and white. For the third day in a row, you were trapped indoors, hiding from the dense blizzard and idly roaming the layout of the estate. Every single room was familiar to you now- studied not once, but multiple times, making it simple for you to find the source of the rich violin that reverberated throughout the second floor of the mansion. Each step you grew closer to the frantic melody, vaguely aware of how clumsily you moved from the haste of your curiosity. The dramatic violin picked up, growing louder, steadier and more urgent the closer you came. The violin belonged to a special place within your battered heart- the noise caused goosebumps to erupt up and down your arms, despite the plentiful warmth that generated throughout the manor.

From under the closed door, a metronome prudently clicked away and your fingers immediately tapped against your petticoat in response, corresponding with it as your eyes stared into the painted wood of the door in front of you, your dominant hand resting on the gold knob.

One and a two, one and a two, one and a two...

The piece was executed flawlessly- until a new passage began and gradually fell behind the tics of the metronome and your fingers as they continuously tapped your skirt. It wasn’t long until the instrument abruptly paused, leaving the mansion to silence once again.

“Your technique leaves much to be desired, which is why you fell behind. Perhaps a proper audience might motivate you, sir,” Sebastian suggested, his voice muffled by the door. You were in the process of turning back to the library to continue the book you had abandoned to stretch your legs, but instead, Sebastian opened the door behind you.

“Your Highness, it would be a privilege for my master to entertain you with his most recent selection: J.S Bach’s Partita for Violin Solo,” Sebastian explained, forgoing his typical use of German, “it would be terribly rude to allow you to listen from outside as he would otherwise have it,” he said pointedly, showing you to a plush loveseat as the Earl stood, his violin and bow poised in hand while he glowered at the score on the music stand in front of him.

“I appreciate it,” you took the offered seat and watched as Sebastian started the metronome once again and pushed up his glasses, which seemed special to his role as a tutor.

“Again, from the twelfth line. This time, perhaps watch your spiccato and left hand articulation- the aim is to hear every note unequivocally, yet remain up to speed,” Sebastian said, but you suspected that the Earl had properly tuned him out in order to prepare to lift the violin and prepare to play again.

Your gaze was drawn to his fingers as they danced along the neck of the violin, pressing and moving every second with the tact of a seasoned player. In the light, the gems on his rings winked as the light’s perspective on them changed as he played. It was mesmerizing in a sense, watching the Earl focus on one task entirely. His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, drawing closer together during more difficult areas of the piece. You watched his expression remain the same during each time he ran through the section that Sebastian requested as he slowly worked through the tense parts until the butler excused himself in order to begin the preparations for supper.

“Have you played for long?” you asked, watching as he loosened the string of his bow and began to wipe it with a small, neatly folded cloth.

“About four years now, I believe,” he cautiously laid the bow and the violin to rest in their case. “Do you play?”

“No,” you said, without thinking. “I am much more partial to the harp- my sister played the violin,” you attempted to maintain the neutrality in your face upon recognizing your mistake. Marie was a mediocre violinist, which meant that the proper answer would have been ‘yes, but not quite so well’. Instead, you implied that Marie was a harpist and the missing, presumably dead princess played the violin. It was a fact that the royal family did not understand until you had left and there was no one playing the harp in the castle. However, it was not common knowledge that either princess had proficiency with the harp in the first place.

He wouldn’t catch such an inconspicuous mistake.

“The harp,” Lord Phantomhive mused, as if the thought amused him. “Fitting, I reckon.”

Frankly, you couldn’t remember the last time you touched the delicate strings of a harp, the sensation of their vibrations against your fingertips. As a girl, it was the only outlet that you could express yourself without breaking any rules- for the most part, at least.

. . .

The thick blankets of puffy snow on the ground made it so even the postage arrived late that evening, since roads leading to the countryside out of the city had yet to be cleared. Thus, the Earl flipped through the Westminster Review and you pretended to consciously read the English Woman’s Journal post-supper, between taking turns in a slow-moving chess game, rather than reading through the news at the breakfast table.

You absentmindedly fiddled with the corner of the thin printed paper as you instead watched the Earl regard the ornate chess set that sat in the middle of you, his side black and yours white. For the second time that day, you were met with his face of complete thought and focus- even if the game was already won on his part.

Frankly, the Earl was an aggressive player and you weren’t accustomed to someone who played sharply and meticulously at once. Not to mention, the last time you played chess, you were about twelve and huddled up in layers of clothing inside, attempting to stay warm in the conman’s measly shack as the two of you hid from the winter that nipped at your noses. “Checkmate,” he sounded as if he was much too accustomed to saying it. The smug tilt of his head merely exaggerated the false humility of his.

Even though you expected him to make that exact move, your shoulders slumped anyway as you huffed impertinently. You were never the best at losing graceful; not in the castle, not with the conman and certainly not by yourself. Especially coming off of your second loss that night.

“This evening was the first as well as the last time I’m playing chess as your opponent, Lord Phantomhive,” you rolled your eyes, tentatively scoffing as you began to reset the board, abandoning the newspaper entirely.

“Competitive, Your Highness?”

“Everyone is,” you responded, “the nature of humanity is to win; be it a war, or a simple game of chess. I despise any loss and I’m certain you feel the same, My Lord,” you ignored the piqued quirk of his eyebrow to properly finish setting the pieces to their starting square.

“I do fit the requisites by simply being anyone- or a human, at the very least,” Lord Phantomhive seemed almost too amused by the statement- and the entendre went above your head. What was the alternative to not being human? You weren’t one to believe in anything you could not see and if there in fact, gods and demons among civilization, surely you might have attracted one, given the life you led. However, you didn’t entertain the thought beyond a stoic chuckle. “Why don’t we begin the next round, best out of five?” he suggested.

“You’re only after the satisfaction of winning five matches against me. Two ought to be plenty,” you accused, not that you blamed him. If your strategic mind could translate to ornate pieces on a board as it did with your profession, then you would happily play the Earl time and time again simply to win.

“Fine, then. Why don’t you choose the next game?” Lord Phantomhive gestured lazily towards the armoire that stood against the wall. Sebastian opened it earlier to retrieve the chess pieces from their velvet box and among the shelves were several boxes of games- several produced by the Funtom Company. Picking one of those would be nearly an instantaneous loss, considering he had a hand in creating it. You decided to settle on a classic and gingerly pulled the box that was labeled draughts.

Draughts was an easier game in comparison to chess- while each had clear winning objectives, draughts was a straightforward game- capture the opponent’s pieces with your own. Each had equal strength until later in the game, whereas chess was a complex strategic war from the start. Playing draughts, there was much less room for error as games ought to be. Besides, you took pleasure in watching the Earl struggling to move pieces with equal power across the board while you played checkers countless of times against the conman and his friends, on the occasion.

Before you could finish the rest of your newspaper (the poetry bit was rather strenuous to get through), one of your double-stacked pieces- a king- double jumped his, decisively ending the first game of checkers of the night. “I thought you would show more of a fight, My Lord,” you scooped a victorious hunk out of the cheesecake that Sebastian delivered minutes prior. The rich Quark cheese was sweet, marrying the tart raspberry compote that was drizzled on top, syrupy in nature as it pooled around the remnants of the cake slice.

“Chess and draughts require different sets of strategies,” Lord Phantomhive responded, feigning nonchalance so as to take the loss civilly but nevertheless, he wore his frustration on his tightly pursed lips and a lack of eye contact which he normally provided in excess. “I’d bet I could win the next round now that I’m...acquainted with your style of playing.”

“Fine,” you aquised, “one last round for tonight because I simply must see you defeated again.”

. . .

FEBRUARY 24TH, 1892

LONDON, ENGLAND

If this pedal harp had eyes, it would have glared at you from across the music room. It was taller than you- glorious and intimidating, the dozens of strings perhaps daring you to pluck at them. The column was made of solid gold and with Lord Phantomhive’s fortune, you could assume that it was as genuine as the rest of the novelties that lived among the estate. This harp was perhaps the most intricate one you had ever laid eyes on, besting the rich mahogany instrument that you learned on as a girl. It was mandatory for the princesses of Schleswig-Holstein to practice womanly, demere hobbies and paradoxically, Marie was by far the worst violinist in Europe in spite of displaying every other desirable trait a young princess could wish to emote.

You were the most gifted musician out of the four heirs to the German throne, which was a fact that Governess Lydia preferred to keep to herself. Nobody needed to know that it was Glücksburg Castle’s Devil Child who was producing fiercely beautiful Mozart concertos from the confinement of her quarters after a good repremandment for misbehavior.

“My master requested this pedal harp to be handcrafted for you by George W. Lyon and Patrick Healy, the founders of Lyon and Healy- an overseas company that qualifies as the cornerstone of quality instrument creation. He corresponded closely with the two men over the past week,” you could hear Sebastian’s overly saccharine simper, even as you closely inspected the floral engravings that decorated the harp’s crown, straight down to its foot. The golden column must have been polished recently but even so, it couldn’t completely outshine the work that was put into styling the harp’s wooden soundboard and the neck, which was its signature concave top. “I do hope it's to your satisfaction- the Lord Phantomhive was eager to present it himself, however-”

“He is occupied with hosting his emergent business meeting,” you interrupted haphazardly. The Earl wouldn’t care about the Funtom Company once he was dead and besides, you couldn’t seem to find out why water damage within a single cacao refinery was such a major issue. There were dozens of cacao refineries that Lord Phantomhive funded- nosing through his official documents had told you so. “Well...think nothing of it, I suppose.”

“Of course,” Sebastian bowed, his hand over his heart, “your leniency is much appreciated, Your Highness.”

“I would appreciate being left to my own about now,” your fingertips brushed over a red string, which indicated that it was a C. On the harp, the strings were colored, indicating different notes and as if in a trance, you were tempted to play more of them as Sebastian left the room.

The blue strings were F strings, A string was the string in the middle of the groups of three, if your memory served you well. It had been about a decade since you last touched one with the intent to sit down and play. You doubted you could, the longer you stared at the abundance of strings and yet, you claimed the upholstered chair behind it anyhow, sitting down. You cautiously pulled the harp back towards you until you found its balance point and allowed it to rest gently against your chest- practically weightless.

Your the rest of your body seemed to recognize this more than your mind as you subconsciously repositioned the front of the harp to angle it. You could hear Lydia’s seething tone telling you to keep your arms “Halten Sie Ihre Arme in einem Winkel von 45 Grad zur Senkrechten!” (Keep your arms 45 degrees from the vertical!) properly from your body, your wrists curving gently towards the strings.

Playing the harp was your escape as a child and there you were, once again in need of an escape. Being in a strenuous position with no clear course of action...maybe you hadn’t grown nearly as much as you thought you had.

Or at all.

The back of your neck provided an affirmative stab, causing you to bite your bottom lip, paying the chapped skin over it no mind. Ignoring the reality of the situation, did you well- it chased away nightmares, the interrupting thoughts and ironically, you were sitting before an instrument that used to help you do just that. Except, all it was doing for you then was stir thoughts and memories that could have used to remain secluded for at least one more day.

“Mozart himself would have treasured your talent, dear girl,” Ida, one of the many maids that were assigned to prepare your sister for important events said. She was tying the back of Marie’s dress from the back, the satin laces a deep abrugene to match the rest of the garment. For young girls, clothing was quite simple- pinafores, dresses, sensible flats or boots. You weren’t introduced to the horrors of training crinolines and corsets until it was the year you went missing and stayed that way.

“It was nothing, Ida,” Marie-Louise yawned, extending her hand out to another maid, Lotte for her to slide a lace glove onto it, pulling it up to reach her forearm. The team of three maids worked around her like bees in a hive, hovering and flitting about, making useless conversation to please a girl who was nowhere near half of their age. “Music comes easy to me.”

No, it didn’t. The extent of Marie’s musical ability was to pick up a violin and brandish the bow, only to force the poor instrument to squeal about a few noises before she gave up. Marie liked everything to come easy to her- she liked to be a natural talent, a prodigy with anything she attempted.

Music came easily to you, but within the walls of Glücksburg Castle, all you knew how to accomplish was wreak havoc and delay plans. It didn’t make sense for music to come easily to you and so, no one believed you, no matter what you said or how you said it.

“They ought to organize a recital for you, Your Highness. Her Majesty would adore hearing you play,” Lotte suggested with a smile that seemed forced- like clothespins were pinching the corners of her lips and cheeks in place.

“Why do that when Mr. Brahms and Mr. Strauss performed for us already?” You couldn’t help but interject, their words irking you as you stood on the other side of the large quarters- in front of your own separate vanity and armoire. Two other maids, Emery and Katharina were assigned to you were also whisking around you like overeager bees, but they didn’t bother to coddle your self esteem. You appreciated that they did their job and silently at that. Nothing could convince you to forget the disappointment that furrowed their faces when they learned that they would be tended to you instead of your mother or your sister. They were treated with stiff contempt from the minute they introduced themselves in lieu of it. “They’re musical geniuses and you’re a princess.”

A lying princess, at that.

You were asked to remain looking forward while Emery caked your face and neck in thick powder and rouge and Katharina tied a chain of pearls around it. It was the exact ensemble that your sister’s team was assembling for her, except Ida and Lotte were much less time-efficient. The point was, Marie-Louise was free to face and glare at the side of your head, her seven-year-old mind trying to formulate a witty, yet tactful response.

“You’re a princess as well, Helena,” Marie-Louise hissed, “but you just can’t ever be normal and act like one.” It always had to come down to that, didn’t it.

“Just when did Governess Lydia teach us to lie in Etiquette Class?” You turned to your sister, which was admittedly, the equivalent of staring at a scowling mirage of yourself, who seemed to be on the verge of shedding frustrated tears. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest. “I must have properly missed such a lesson, considering everybody seems to abide by it.”

“Please, that is quite enough, miss. Supper is nearing and we wouldn’t want to present you both late. Poor form is unbecoming,” Ida, the most experienced maid only scolded you in the process of intervening. That was to be expected.

You didn’t respond and simply allowed Emery to part and braid your hair into a tight bun as Katharina secured your boots in tense silence. Most of your life up to that point was in tense, furthering silence anyway and yet, the royal family had the audacity to be surprised when you fled.

Supper was always the same. Your older brothers, Albert and Christian sat prudently on one side of the table, you and Marie-Louise were across from them and your mother was absent, visiting the Hampton Court Palace to see the Royal School of Needlework to its opening, since she was its first president. While she was one of the most active people in the royal family in charity work, her duty as a mother ended the moment she pushed the twins out of her womb.

“Helena,” Christian said, acting as if he had lived through the many experiences of a king in only sixteen years. “Your Royal Guard came looking for you in the cricket field this morning- again. Where were you off to today?”

“I was with Hanna,” you lied, puncturing the rough exterior of the sausage on your plate with the tip of your knife before properly slicing it. In truth, you hid yourself in the stables because the animals were better company that anyone on castle grounds. “We were-”

“When did Governess Lydia teach us to lie in Etiquette Class?” Marie-Louise mimicked your words from prior, purposely making a mockery of your voice as she scrunched her nose. “Thora went out to sit with the pigs and the filth, Christle,” she explained employing the frankly bothersome, nicknames that your grandmother started.

Christian ignored her and instead gave your father a long look, trying to get him to instead chastise you but to no avail. His Majesty was much too occupied with attempting to stab a piece of sausage whilst reading a letter. Kingly duties- and this was what your older brothers wished to embody.

“It’s getting cold. If you’re so compelled to ignore your duties, may as well do it safely,” Christian mumbed gruffly, causing Albert to snicker in turn. Albert had the right of it as you fought a grin, setting your utensils down to signify that you were finished with your meal- the tips of your fork and knife met on an angle at the top of your plate, similar to a triangle.

“Very well, Christle,” you stood up from your chair, breaking the code of the highest ranking individual needing to finish his meal before anyone else left the dining table. In which case, that would be your father who was still satisfying himself with a serving of knödeln- potato dumplings. He mouthed each word that he read because it was likely written in French or English. “I ought to go to amuse myself, then.”

You showed yourself back to your quarters, Ida’s pleas for you to return to the meal and properly wait for His Majesty to end it. You hesitated in front of the closed door, the impertinent anger from your sister’s mere existence returned in seconds, causing you to impulsively go to the games room, where the harp was kept, and do exactly as you were forbidden to.

You were forbidden from playing while Marie-Louise was occupied elsewhere- a rule that Lydia had threatened you over. But the moment that servants understood that it was your mastery that filled the castle corridors, they would detest it. Marie-Louise could live with being a little less affable in their eyes and even if she could not…

Some deserved not to.

You opened your eyes, unconscious to when they had closed. Your fingers froze, the skin on them raw and burning familiarly, your wrists protesting the angle you held them at. Your hands trembled having expertly recalled the daringly simple melody of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, but before you could try to recall some piece by Liszt (the name was lost to you), Mey-Rin entered which was likely for the better. You were prepared to sit on that chair until your fingers bled, in spite of what it made you recall.

“Lunch is about ready,” Mey-Rin’s eyes were red and bleary, but you made no effort to question it, thankful that she refrained from commenting on your playing. “Are you feelin’ alright ma’am? You’ve gone a bit red.”

“Yes, thank you. I might’ve overexerted myself,” you suggested, which was true. Your head pounded the moment you tried to stand.

“Why don’t I bring it all up to your room,” she offered, “you just rest.” She briefly looked down at her boots, presumably checking the laces because tripping was quite a common occurrence for her. How the fragile antiques that Lord Phantomhive collected remained whole was beyond you when the only maid was a clumsy and slightly gullible...täuschen, or half-wit, as the conman might’ve said. But in this case, she had a point. Nothing sounded more appealing than having lunch alone in your room- without his (snarky) Lordship.

. . .

There were no time constraints at the estate- absolutely none that told you when you could play or when you couldn’t.

This was exactly how you found yourself before the harp once after your nightly routine concluded. You were pulling the harp back to lean on your shoulder like a woman possessed, hungry for control of some kind. Whether it be dragging the blade of a knife across your victim’s throat or more realistically, pulling the strings of a brilliant instrument that must have cost half of a fortune to commission. Besides, if you killed Lord Phantomhive, you would have to leave before having at least a few more chances to make the beautiful instrument sing.

The hour called for something demure, rather than you experimenting with what your muscle memory could or could not conjure. You immediately began with Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major once again, willing your gaze to remain on your hands, actively fighting off any intersecting train of thought while you played. You focused on every flick of your wrists, the shift of your slipper on the pedals all while your hands knew exactly where they needed to be and when.

At least they did before the shrill vibrato of a violin interjected the alto hum made by your harp. It came from the next room over, the Earl’s office, no less clearer than it would have been from a few feet in front of you. The violin took the melody that you willingly surrendered for the sake of keeping the piece uncluttered and subtle, as it was intended to be.

This was how Lydia wanted an accompaniment between you and Marie to play out- you vaguely recalled the sheet music that she painfully attempted to teach her. Clearly, your counterpart was never able to grasp the music well enough and the accompaniment never took place- even after you embarrassed her that night. After your father dismissed your siblings, she came to the music room and had an... entirely becoming temper tantrum in your face- such a display would have ended with you being locked in a closet for several hours. Ida simply escorted her back to the quarters you shared and made her a glass of chamomile tea to calm her down.

As the piece came to a mutual decrescendo, it slowly faded away, ending with a soft glissando. It was unlike Lord Phantomhive to give you the last word without so much as the irked look or in this case, an irked trill.

Tags:

#ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #black butler #black butler fanfic #strangers to lovers #anime fanfiction #murder #angst #historical fiction #historical romance #victorian era #the indignant pawn

65 notes · View notes

merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Epiphany - Jack Thompson

Pairing: Jack Thompson x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: In this, Chief Dooley is still alive even though it takes place after the events of Agent Carter. I haven’t seen the show in a while so sorry if it’s a bit out of character. I’m also extremely writer’s blocked, so yeah...😅 I’m feeling so unmotivated right now so please show some love, let me know what you think😭 NOT PROOFREAD!

Wordcount: 6405

Summary: Agent Thompson has never been anything but an ass towards you, but that’s all about to change.

Being the younger sister of Howard Stark came with a lot of baggage, baggage that, at times, was far too heavy for you to carry.

The disadvantages were many and they were big, one of the biggest ones being that no matter how great and how many things that you accomplished in life, you never got recognized as anything other than Howard Stark’s sister.

That’s all you were, his sister. You weren’t (Y/N) Stark, you were just Howard Stark’s sister.

When you accomplished something, he was the one who got all of the attention, all of the compliments and applaud.

He was praised because obviously, he was the one who had taught you everything you knew, right? In no way could a woman, on her own, accomplish what you had. In no way could a woman be so smart.

And being the arrogant man that he was, he absorbed the praise like a sponge, leaving none of the spotlight to you; even when you were, in fact, the star of the hour.

His name, his fame and your kinship haunted you. When he did something good, you got told by everyone that you must be so proud to be related to him, and when he did something bad, well…

The time he got accused of selling off his inventions to the enemies of the state spoke loudly enough on that topic.

You worked at the SSR alongside Peggy and had been since the end of the war, in which you had both served side by side with Captain America up until his passing.

In the end, it became known that during all of the time your brother had been in hiding from the law, Peggy had been helping him in the shadows, in secret alongside his butler, Edwin Jarvis.

But despite it, you had been the one to be closely monitored up until that revelation.

Because of your kinship to him, the Chief and your fellow co-workers were suspicious of you and your every move the entire time they were chasing him, thinking you were just lying through your teeth when you said you had no idea about your brother’s whereabouts.

But you did, in fact, not have a clue as to where he was or what he was doing. Neither Peggy nor Edwin told you anything about their secret operation to clear your brother’s name, despite the fact they were both your closest friends.

When it was revealed that they had been the ones helping your brother and not you, you were happy to get Jack and the Chief off your ass, but that didn’t change the fact that your brother had trusted Peggy and Edwin over you, his own sister.

Having the same parents and being related to him did have its perks too, however; all of his personality traits weren’t bad. Most of them were, but not all.

You had both been blessed by the quick wit, intelligence, perseverance, confidence and loyalty. You were a very independent woman, sure of yourself, wise beyond your years, and you knew it, never settling for anything less than you were worth.

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten your brother’s arrogance and impulsiveness. You were the more analyzing, cautious, responsible and compassionate sibling, much to your own relief.

You were, however, just as sarcastic as him, if not even more. It was your biggest flaw and it often caused you to get in trouble, especially with your male co-workers as you almost always managed to out-wit them, making them feel threatened and like you were challenging their positions and superiority.

Which, in all truth, you were.

They were all sexist assholes, treating you and Peggy like brainless broads, as if you weren’t agents just like them.

Jack Thompson was one of the worst, finding pleasure and amusement in pissing the two of you, you especially, off.

You had disliked him all the way from the start but after the way he had treated you when suspecting you of helping Howard during his life as a criminal on the run, you could barely stand being in the same room as him.

You could barely breathe without it leading to some kind of sexist, oppressive comment leaving his lips and being thrown in your face.

Unlike other, well-mannered women who had known no other struggles than the ones of a housewife, you didn’t possess the power of self-restraint to keep quiet when being insulted or made fun off, and in the society you lived in, that wasn’t very ideal.

Especially not when your boss obviously valued the work of a man over that of a woman’s, too, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Needless to say, your big mouth and lack of impulse-control had put you in more than a few strained situations with your superiors at work.

Chief Dooley had even put you on suspension once when you had secretly gotten involved in a case that he had specifically forbidden you from partaking in. You really were your brother’s sister in those moments, and this time was no different.

Over the last three weeks, bodies of young women had been found all around New York City. The first week, five girls. The second week, four more and this week, two. But that was only so far, and the weekend still remained.

The girls all had their throats slit and their bowels brutally cut out. Being the serial killer-fanatic that you were, you instantly recognized the characteristics and realized in an instant that you were dealing with a Jack The Ripper copycat.

It wasn’t what the SSR usually dealt with but seeing as the killer had left a message specifically addressing you, the case was assigned to you.

You knew you would have been able to help with the knowledge you had of Jack The Ripper, his strategies and his tendencies, but as usual, you were shut out of the investigation like you were with every case you showed the slightest of interest in.

One of the countless disadvantages of being a woman; you could impossibly have any information that the men didn’t already have.

So you were stuck at your desk, sulking and muttering to yourself while going through paperwork like every other day, slightly comforted by the fact that Daniel was willingly doing the same a few desks away from you, most likely having turned down any participation in the Copycat case out of pure pity for you.

It would have been a lot more tolerable if Peggy would have been there with you to keep you company, but for once in her life, she had taken the day off for the reasons she claimed and not because she was sneaking around poking her nose where it didn’t belong.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Bring us some coffee, will you?” A voice suddenly called out, breaking you free from your trance and pulling you back to reality with a jerk of surprise.

Your eyes instantly flickered over to the doorway on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to Daniel lightly snickering at your priceless reaction as your eyes found Johnson’s.

He was leaning back in his seat to be able to peek out of the office that him and the others who were on the Copycat case were currently residing, eyebrows raised and face pulled into an amused smile.

“Daydreaming again, are we?” He asked in a mocking tone and your face instantly pulled into a glare.

What the hell did he mean with again? You took your job more seriously than anyone, more so than him, more than Jack and possibly even more than Peggy. So what the hell was that supposed to mean?

You wanted to throw him a snarky reply but you stopped yourself, remembering that you were already on thin ice from the last time you had gone against the Chief’s orders.

So you sucked it up, breathing in a long breath through your nose and clenching your fists under your desks in an attempt to calm yourself, before forcing a smile onto your lips.

“Yes, I’m a bit distracted today.” You agreed with him through clenched teeth.

“I can see that.” He wasted no time in chuckling, raising his eyebrow. “So, coffee.”

The forced smile fell from your lips the second he uttered those two words, your eyes rolling. “Maybe if you ask nicely instead of bossing me around, then I could be so kind as to bring you coffee.” You replied.

As a response, it was his time to roll his eyes, before dramatically throwing his arms out and exclaiming loudly. “Oh, wonderful and talented (Y/N), please bring us some steamy, hot coffee so that we might behold your beauty if so only for a few seconds in these difficult times!”

You rolled your eyes once again, but nonetheless dropped the ballpoint pen that you were holding to the surface of your mahogany desk and stood up, brushing down your blouse. “I’ll be right there.”

A wide smirk spread across his face again. “Thanks, sugar.” He winked, and wasted not another second before leaning back into the room.

“Asshole.” You mumbled under your breath, shaking your head.

A chuckle came from down the room. “Duty calls, huh?” Daniel asked from his seat, where he had now turned away from his work to look at you with an amused expression on his face.

You narrowed your eyes at him, pointing a finger. “Don’t even start, Sousa.” You warned him, and turned around without waiting for a response to go bid to your co-worker’s command.

You put the cups neatly on a metal tray while you brewed some fresh coffee, pouring some milk into a small can and adding another small container with sugar cubes. All of that took no longer than a minute or two, so you stood there awaiting the coffee to be done impatiently the rest of the time.

When it finally finished bubbling, you took the pot and put it on the space you had saved on the tray and wasted no time in turning on your heel and heading for the open office.

The voices of Johnson and the two other agents in there became louder the closer you got and you quickly started suspecting that they weren’t working at all, something you got confirmed when you entered the room to find the case files pushed away on the table, the three of them instead flipping through a magazine.

The sight caused annoyance to bubble up in the pit of your stomach almost instantly and you had to quickly mask your anger with a straight face when the three of them looked up at you at your entrance.

Putting the tray down in front of them, you nodded your head to the blue manila folders sprawled out on the table, raising an eyebrow at them. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking over the case files?”

They barely even acknowledged you, returning to the magazine with a wave of their hands. “We’re taking a small break.” They said. “We have a question for you actually.”

“That so?” You asked in a bored tone, paying them no mind despite feeling their gazes return to you, instead busying yourself with pouring them a cup of coffee each.

Johnson cleared his throat and as your eyes flickered up to look at them for the briefest of moments, you caught them exchanging glances while obviously trying to hold back smirks.

“Yeah, we were talking about our deepest, darkest sexual fantasies and how it would be interesting to know yours.” Johnson spoke and you raised an unimpressed eyebrow when the others attempted to hide their laughs by coughing into their hands.

He shrugged, the two of you now staring straight into each other’s eyes. “You rarely let on what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, makes a man wonder.” He smirked.

Your eyes narrowed into slits in an instant and you automatically put the pot back down on the tray, glaring. “I beg your pardon?” You scoffed and at that, Kesey leaned forward too, wearing a smirk to match his co-worker’s.

“Oh, come on, Stark. Don’t be a prude.” He said, causing the other two to chuckle.

You turned your attention to him. “He dies during foreplay and leaves me 1.3 billion dollars, that’s my fantasy.” You replied shortly, holding his gaze for a moment before returning your attention to the coffee.

They groaned, not at all satisfied by your answer. “No, but seriously.” They kept pressing and you sighed, once again lowering the coffee pot to look up at them.

“I don’t have time to ponder fantasies. If I want something, I go get it. I’m a go-getter.”

Johnson whistled, leaning back in his seat. “You know, you’re a pain in the ass, but… that’s kind of hot.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.” You fired back before you could stop yourself, watching as the smirk instantly fell off of all of their face.

“Why you always gotta be like that?” Kesey questioned, giving you an annoyed stare to which you only raised your eyebrows innocently.

“Be like what?” You asked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Sarcastic.” He replied. “You would be a lot more approachable and desirable if you just smiled more and talked back less.”

“Yeah, because pleasing men is my main mission in life.” You rolled your eyes.

He glared right back at you but with a discouraging slap to his shoulder from Johnson, he just scoffed, turning his attention back to the magazine and allowing you to return to pouring them their cups of coffee.

They started talking quietly among themselves, flipping through the paper that seemed to contain pictures of cars and women, but you managed to block their voices out for a good minute by putting all of your attention to the coffee, preparing it just the way you knew they liked it.

You were pretty sure you knew their preferences better than they did themselves at this point, and the same went for Peggy, with the ridiculous amount of times you’d both been forced to serve them like maids.

“God, what I would do to see her naked.” Was the first thing you heard when you finished pouring the coffee and zoned back into their conversation, looking up to see them looking down on a centerfold girl and wasting no time in scoffing, inviting yourself into the conversation.

“Do you know what I want to see?” You asked, holding Johnson’s eyes with a fierce glare when he looked up at the sound of the voice.

“What?” He asked and you scoffed again, putting the can of coffee down and shaking your head.

“A society in which the objectification of women makes way for gender-neutral interaction free from assumptions and expectations.” You threw a hand out to the folders of evidence lying to the side. “I can’t even begin to describe the density of illness I feel in my bone marrow right now, that is how appalled I am by all this. Women are dying and you’re supposed to solve the case, and yet here you are, wasting time and lookin-”

“Gentlemen.” Your rant was interrupted by Jack as he walked into the room, slapping another manila folder down on the table and raising his eyebrows at you in an easy smile. “(Y/L/N), you boring them with your feminist monologues again?”

“When is she not?” Johnson wasted no time in snorting back.

You glared at him, annoyed that he had spoken in your place, which only seemed to make Jack’s amusement grow. “What is with you and your constant preaching about the future being female?” He asked. “I mean, I know they say no dream is too big but come on, look around.”

He laughed and the others joined in immediately.

But you weren’t discouraged, crossing your arms over your chest and looking down at Jack who had now sat down in a chair, man-sprawling like his life depended on it. “You know, men who say that feminists want to overpower men probably know that there is already a gender imbalance and are threatened by the idea that gender roles will no longer be in their favor, so I’m only taking your insults as a compliment.”

Jack smirked up at you, nodding his head. “You do that.” He answered shortly and without even giving you a chance to reply, he turned his attention away from you like you were nothing, which only vexed you further.

“Any new leads on the suspect?” Johnson and the others turned their attention to their superior, all of them now ignoring you where you were standing with your arms still crossed over your chest.

Jack shook his head with a sigh, opening the manila folder he had brought with him and in turn urging the others to scramble for their folders.

“No, the lead turned out to be a dead end. This guy is good. We’ve had two new victims since yesterday and still no trace of him. He doesn’t leave anything behind, not a single fingerprint. It’s like he doesn’t even exist.”

“Whoa, whoa, woah, hold on.” You interrupted, holding a hand out and stepping closer to them. “Two new victims? Still all females? Why have I not been informed?”

Jack gave you an annoyed stare, obviously not happy about being interrupted. “You weren’t informed because it’s not your case, but yes. All female between the ages of sixteen and twenty-seven, all wearing uh…” He cleared his throat, averting his gaze from you. “Provocative clothing.”

“What does their clothing matter?” You scoffed. “They could’ve been strolling naked down the street and it still wouldn’t justify what happened to them. Women shouldn’t have to be modest to be respected.”

“If this is a Jack The Ripper copycat we’re dealing with then it does matter.” Jack looked back up at you. “Every victim so far have been women, dressed in suggestive, light clothing at the time of their deaths.”

“But none of them were prostitutes.” You pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

At this point, you were just talking back for the sake of arguing with him, knowing fully well that all of the evidence pointed towards a Copycat.

And Jack knew it. Not only because you had been the one to bring up Jack The Ripper in the first place, but because he also, no matter how much it pained you to say so, knew you and the way you functioned like the back of his own hand with how long you had been working together.

“No, but it’s obvious that their choice of clothing are provoking him. It’s the only thing tying them together and the only thing we have to go on.” He replied calmly despite his annoyance obviously increasing with every passing second.

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms over your chest again. “Maybe he just doesn’t like blondes.”

“See, that’s what we thought at first, too. But the last two girls were brunettes, so there goes that theory.” He replied and you suddenly turned smug, realizing that he was giving you information on the case that wasn’t yours to possess.

But before you could dig any deeper, the Chief walked in with his own cup of coffee raised to his lips, and his eyes instantly found yours.

“Agent (Y/L/N), I thought I told you that you weren’t going to be on this case.” He told you, lowering the cup from his face and taking a seat at the head of the table.

“I’m- I was just bringing the hardworking men some coffee, sir.” You replied, clearing your throat, wiping your face free of emotion and uncrossing your arms.

He either didn’t notice the sarcasm in your tone or he just chose to ignore it, nodding his head in approval. “I left some paperwork on your desk and I need you to fill it out before the day is up because it needs to be posted to Los Angeles before the weekend. Each minute passing is a minute wasted so I suggest that you get to work.”

He waved a hand at you but before you could reply, Jack spoke up without looking at you. “And take your feminazi monologues with you.”

He was staring down into the case file, flipping through photographs of the crime scene, but it was clear that he could feel your glare burning into the side of his face with the way the corners of his lips tugged upward slightly.

You kept your gaze unwavering at him.

“The Nazis rounded up Jews, locked them in concentration camps, lined them up in gas chambers and performed genocide. When I’m asking, arguing and fighting for equal pay, equal opportunities, no judgement, and right over my own body, how is anything, apart from your fragile male ego, getting killed?” You asked, and he simply looked up at you with a wide grin, eyes squinted with mockery.

“Point taken, now go do your job.” He said causally and you could’ve sworn you felt your eye twitch right then and there.

But as earlier mentioned, you did posses slightly more control of your impulses than your brother, so you turned on your heel and walked out of the office with long, determined strides before you said or did something you would come to regret, closing the door behind you so that you wouldn’t have to hear their ridiculing chuckles.

“Well, I can see you’re not very happy but it was amusing as always to witness you in your natural habitat, so I hope it can provide you with some comfort to know that you’ve officially made my day.” A voice spoke not even a second later, and you felt relief flood your entire body at the sight of Peggy’s warm smile.

Your heels clicked against the wooden floors as you walked closer to her where she was leaning against your desk. “And what habitat would that be?” You questioned, watching as she raised an eyebrow.

“Putting disrespectful, sexist men in their place, rightfully so might I add, and being kicked out for doing so.”

“Yes, I fear it’s starting to become a habit of mine.” You chuckled, sinking down into your chair once you reached your desk.

Peggy pushed herself off the edge of said desk, uncrossing her arms and turning around to face her. “Starting to?” She asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You chuckled once more. “What are you doing here? I thought you took a day off.”

“I did.” She confirmed. “But my doctor’s appointment went quicker than expected so here I am.”

“Thank God for that.” You let out a loud breath, motioning with your hand to the large stack of papers now resting on your desk, looking at her guiltily. “Feeling helpful?”

All she did in response was smile, nod her head and pull a chair up to sit beside you, wordlessly grabbing the first paper.

With the help, it only took an hour to fill out all of the paperwork, but even though it would’ve taken much longer without the extra set of hands, you wished the time would’ve gone by quicker.

It was a Friday afternoon and there was nothing you wanted more than to go home, take off your heels, get out of your uncomfortable clothes and go to bed, and the last two hours of the day were always the longest, and hardest.

Once the paperwork was done, Peggy moved over to the breakroom to grab you a cup of coffee. She was the least exhausted out of the two of you seeing as she hadn’t been there the entire day and offered to do so, so that you could take a breather after the intense paperwork.

When she busied herself with that, you moved over to Daniel where he was still sitting at his desk, working hard.

You sparked up a conversation and became so engrossed in it you didn’t even realize another half hour went by and passed the end of your workday, also completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that instantly found you as the five men came out of the closed office.

Jack watched you laugh at something Sousa had said with an uncomfortable knot rapidly growing in the pit of his stomach, a sour taste growing in his mouth.

In a desperate attempt to get rid of the feeling of the anger bubbling up inside him, he raised his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip of the black beverage despite it having gone cold at that point.

He was so focused on watching you from afar, taking note of every move of your body and every flicker of emotion in your face, that he didn’t even notice Peggy coming up to his side until she cleared her throat and made her presence known.

Jack instantly tore his eyes away from you to look at the woman now standing beside him, only to find that she was looking straight at you, too.

“Why don’t you get off your high horse, swallow your pride and ask her out already?” She asked without looking at him, admittedly catching him by surprise.

“What?” He asked, chuckling nervously.

At that, Peggy turned to look at him, scoffing and giving him an unimpressed stare. “Oh, please.” She said. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

His eyes hardened and his Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed. “I don’t.” He replied casually, taking another sip of his coffee.

But she didn’t believe him for a second, and wasted no time.

“One day, you’re going to see her holding hands with someone who took your chance. She won’t even notice you because she’s too busy laughing with the stupid jokes he makes. And it will burn your heart seeing that beautiful smile on her face and realizing that you’re not the reason. And then it will finally hit you that she’s always been the one.”

She smiled softly at him, eyes glazing over as she fell into deep thought at the last part, obviously thinking back to her time with Steve.

“Sousa and the others might be blind, but I’m not. I’ve seen the looks you give her when she’s not looking. I’m not stupid, Jack. But you are.”

Her words made his façade falter for the briefest of moments, but he quickly covered it up with his usual careless smile, raising an eyebrow. “And why would that be?” He asked.

He was appearing so sure of himself but Peggy Carter knew better; she always did.

“Because only an idiot would let a woman like her slip out of his fingers. And if you want to have a chance, you might want to hurry up, because you’re not the only one who’s got your eye on her.” She answered, nodding her head in your direction.

Jack turned his eyes back to you at the sound of her words, finding that Sousa was now nowhere in sight, the new intern now standing in front of you instead, the two of you conversing about something and both of you smiling.

He had been transferred to your unit only a few weeks prior, having fought in the war like the rest of you and lost one of his hands in the process, dooming him to a life-worth of desk work.

He’d had his eye on you ever since he arrived, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of them; especially not Jack.

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man to let a woman shine, and you better come to terms with that before you even think about getting close to her.” Peggy continued. “Because she’s not a woman to be kept in the dark. She deserves better than that.”

Jack swallowed again, his eyes never leaving your form as Peggy spoke, and not when she turned on her heel and walked away, either.

He took a moment to regain his composure after the conversation he’d just had, his mind at war with his heart after everything Peggy had just told him. He stood by, sipping his cold coffee and watching you, until the intern walked away from you.

The discouraged look on his face made him feel smug in some way, and he quickly threw back the rest of his coffee, putting the cup down on the closest surface and wasting no time in heading over in your direction.

It took no more than a few long strides to reach you at your desk. He came up behind you, watching over your shoulder as you packed your things into your bag that was standing on your chair.

He leaned against the short side of the mahogany table, tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey slacks and glancing at you.

“An admirer, I take it?” He asked casually, watching your every move.

You made no move to turn around to look at him, simply continuing to pack down the papers you needed to take home over the weekend. “Well, he tried. Didn’t have much luck but you have to admire him for his attempt.”

Jack snickered. “You might not want to be too picky, you know, or you’ll end up alone eventually.”

“I’d take that over ending up divorced after settling for less than I deserve any day.”

“Touché. But no matter how hard you try to deny it the fact still remains at the end of the day that every woman needs a man, sooner or later.”

“I don’t need a man.” You replied, closing the flap of your bag and grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. “I need a family sized tub of chocolate chip ice cream and a bottle of tequila to drown my misery of having to work from a desk every day.”

You hurriedly started to put your arms into your sleeves, wanting nothing more than to get away from the conversation at hand and go home.

When you grabbed your bag off of the chair and turned around to leave, Jack pushed himself off the desk, finally catching your eye. “Well, that’s a shame because I was thinking, when you’re done flirting with cripples who have barely gone through puberty yet, that maybe we could go out sometime.”

You instantly rolled your eyes, completely missing the fact that he, in his own way, had just asked you out.

“Do you ever take a day off from being an asshole?” You asked. “Does it make you feel good about yourself to talk down on everyone?”

“I think those may be questions best pondered over dinner.” He offered again, raising his eyebrows.

You could only snort and roll your eyes once more. “Funny. I know your tactics work on pretty much everyone else, but they won’t do any good with me. Good night, Agent Thompson.”

Without wasting another second, you hung the strap of the bag of your arm, walking past him and not looking back.

But he just turned on his heel and walked after you, walking by your side with his hands still tucked into his pockets.

“We’re not on the clock anymore, you can call me Jack.” He said. “And the dinner proposal wasn’t a joke.”

“What? You’re like, asking me out on a date?” You snorted, without looking up at him and without ever slowing down.

In the corner of your eye, you could see his head shaking. “No, just… causal dinner. But…” He trailed off, shrugging. “If we happen to have sex afterwards, so be it.”

His words instantly drew a scoff from your lips and you stopped in your tracks, turning to look at him with a glare. Before you could say anything, however, he continued.

“Having sex once or twice a week has been proven to boost your immune system to help fight colds and the flu and I don’t know about you, but I don’t really enjoy being sick.”

You weren’t impressed, not in the slightest, your glare remaining unfaltering. “It’s a good thing I have a perfect immune system, then.” You fired back and moved to keep walking.

But this time, he rushed up in front of you, blocking you from continuing. “Come on, I’ve run out of reasons that we shouldn’t, haven’t you?”

“No.” You answered without a single doubt in your mind. “In fact, I couldn’t even count all of the reasons on both my hands. I don’t have enough fingers.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly cut him off, raising your hands and beginning to count off your fingers.

“But let’s start with, uh, you’re an asshole. You’re constantly degrading me and treating me like I’m below you even though we have the exact same title and the exact same job. I’m an agent like you and yet, you treat me like I’m a secretary with no brains, like I’m not capable of literally everything you are. You’re a sexist pig and every day for the past two years, Peggy and I have been the targets of yours, the Chief’s, and everyone else’s oppression. So excuse me if I’m not jumping up and down with excitement at the thought of going out with you and becoming just another name on your endlessly long list.”

A long moment of awkward silence fell over the two as you finished your hateful rant. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. For the first time since you had met him, you had left him speechless and taken the last word.

You thought, at least.

“Ouch. That hurt.” He spoke after a long moment, chuckling awkwardly.

His face was pulled into an expression of genuine hurt and for a moment, just for a moment, you felt guilty for going off on him the way you had. But then you remember that it was justified, and that he had it coming.

So you just hummed in response, averting your gaze to the floor. While you did so, Jack took a step closer to you and caught both you and himself by surprise by reaching out for your hand.

Your head instantly whipped back up at the sudden touch of his skin against yours, a sharp spark going through your skin and causing you to flinch.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to have noticed it. Either that, or he just didn’t care, instead looking down at you with warm, genuine eyes.

“Look, it’s a man’s world. It’s been a man’s world for as long as history goes, for as long as you and I have been alive, and we’re still living in it. But…” He paused, properly taking your hand into his. “I’m willing to learn how to look at it from another perspective.”

Your could feel yourself melting into his touch, your eyes softening but your face remaining stoic. You weren’t about to let your guard down that easily.

“I recall you calling that my monologues about feminism boring no more than an hour and a half ago.” You pointed out, and watched as a lopsided smile slowly made its way onto his lips.

“Eh.” He tilted his head, shrugging again. “Not everything can be interesting. But that doesn’t mean it’s not necessary to learn.”

“Wow, this is… not like you at all.” You pointed out, eyes slowly narrowing. You tore your hand out of his grasp, taking a step back. “What’s going on? Did you make a bet with the guys or something? Is that it?”

“Do you really think that little of me?” He asked, looking genuinely offended.

But you only raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is this where I’m supposed to lie to protect your delicate, fragile male ego?”

He closed his eyes, raising his hand to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, forget I asked.” He mumbled, breathing in deeply and lowering his hand again. “I had an eyeopener, that’s all. Realized that there’s always room for improvement in one’s character and view of the world.”

He was obviously dramatically articulating his words for extra effect, the sarcastic smile pulling at his lips only proving that further.

You gave him a doubtful once-over, but soon felt yourself relaxing, your arms uncrossing from over your chest and your head nodding slowly. “Well, whoever made you realize that you were being a grade A asshole, give them my thanks. I like this version of you much better than the one I’ve had to deal with every day for the last two years.”

He instantly raised an eyebrow at your halfhearted confession, lips once again beginning to pull into a smirk. “So is that a yes to the date?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow in return.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a date?” You teased.

He looked to the side briefly, smirking. “Well…” He shrugged.

You chuckled, nodding your head and biting down on the inside of your cheek lightly in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to break out on your face. “I’ll be ready at eight tomorrow night. I would tell you where I live but I believe you already know seeing as you and Johnson stalked me every night for an entire month when you thought I was hiding my brother from you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You knew about that the whole time?”

“I did, and you had no idea.” You chuckled. “The way you men think of us women as intellectually challenged works in our favor sometimes. We see so much more than you think.”

He grinned, unbeknownst to you feeling extremely proud of you in that moment.

Before he got the chance to say anything else, you gave him a nod of your head and offered him a wholehearted, sincere smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack.” You told him, and then pushed past him without waiting for a reply, walking away from him with butterflies in your stomach; the very same ones you had felt the first time you met him.

Before he opened his big mouth, that is.

But everyone was capable of change, and you silently thanked whatever person that had helped him on the right path to his sudden epiphany.

Although, you believed you already knew.

Who else but Peggy?

Tagged: @corishirogane3 @trenchcoatedwings @microwaved-timmies

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#jack thompson imagine #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson #chad michael murray #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #agent carter #captain america #peggy carter #s.h.i.e.l.d.

182 notes · View notes

gone4neow · 4 years

Text

MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ

c h a p t e r f i f t e e n

- park chanyeol x oc

- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]

- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence

- work count : 2,913

previous chapter or next chapter

——————————————————————————

When the morning came, Eunyeong was greeted by the sounds of the songbirds outside singing their greetings and the sound of breathing somewhere next to her ear. Her eyes snapped open quickly - she was afraid of where she might be. When her eyes found the general sleeping soundly next to her she relaxed. The tall man laid on his back with his head thrown back. His plump lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth. Eunyeong had never seen the man look so tranquil. Because of this, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Her fingers itched to connect the small markings on his face and neck, but she knew that was forbidden. Everything she was feeling was forbidden. It felt like some sort of criminal punishment to her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned to finally look away from the man. Her hand came up and rested against her chest as it pounded against her ribs violently. For a moment, she let her eyes rest again as she tried to imagine the way her father would react to knowing she had slept so close to a man she wasn't married to. Slowly, a small smile began to form on her face as she pictured his scowl in her mind. Perhaps the foreign feelings she felt towards the general were torturous, but the way her heart yearned for her home felt as if the life in her body was slowly leaving her behind.

The woman had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the man next to her stirring. His eyes slowly fluttered open, scanning the room with brief confusion before they landed on the woman next to him. He knew she was awake from the way she was smiling, but still, his eyes drank in the sight of her. She was filthy. There were patches of dirt all over her skin, her hair was a tangled mess, and she didn't smell as good as the women back home did - and yet there was still something so endearing about her.

"How long have you been awake?" The man asked as he brought a hand up to rub at his eyes sleepily. The woman shot up quickly at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than it usually was and sent vibrations down her spine.

"How long have you been awake?" The woman replied quickly as she looked down at him with wide eyes.

Before the man could answer, a sharp knock echoed throughout the room. The pair shared a glance before the general pushed himself up from the ground. Eunyeong felt her stomach twist anxiously as she gathered her hair up and began to pull it up as neatly as she could manage. Her ears perked up as she heard the door of the room open. A woman's voice floated through the room almost right away. Eunyeong avoided turning to look at who it was.

"Sir, I brought this tub. We use it to give all of our important guests baths!" The woman announced with excitement in her voice. Eunyeong listened as a few bashful giggles filled the air and couldn't resist looking over her shoulder. In the doorway stood a small group of women, all looking up at Chanyeol with adoring expressions. Eunyeong scoffed to herself as she turned back around and finished tying her hair up.

"Ah... I see," the man responded nervously. "Can you prepare a bath for me then? I won't need assistance washing."

"Nonsense! We insist on aiding you," the woman replied as she pushed herself into the room. Chanyeol turned and watched with wide eyes as the other women followed in behind her. When the group of women spotted Eunyeong they halted. The soldier turned and looked at them hesitantly, not sure what would happen next. Would a woman recognize her true identity before a man?

"Are you of importance?" One questioned.

"Surely that doesn't matter! Look at how cute he is!" Another said.

"Yes... you have a point."

"This will be a fun morning!"

Eunyeong watched in horror as they all began to giggle amongst one another again. She turned to look at Chanyeol for help but wasn't surprised to see the tall man standing with a bemused expression on his face.

"He does need a bath, ladies. Just look at how filthy he is," the man began. Eunyeong paled at his words.

"Ladies! That's quite alright, I will wash up somewhere else," Eunyeong assured them as she held her hands up to stop them from approaching her. The general could barely hide the smile on his face when the woman sent him a scowl.

"Alright, alright - that's enough. Ladies, draw me up a bath and be gone. No more will be permitted," the general finally put a stop to the excitement. The ladies all shared a disappointed glance but soon began to do as instructed.

Eunyeong watched out the window as they did so. The sun hadn't been out very long and the morning dew still rested on the leaves of the trees outside. For a moment she wondered what they were doing in this small little village. It seemed so strange to her that after getting all kind of inside information on the enemies the general had decided to sit idle.

"Are you actually taking a bath?" Eunyeong questioned as she watched the man set up a dressing screen in front of the bath the women had just set up. The general laughed lightly at the question while he worked.

"You think I can fit in that tiny tub?" He couldn't help but ask with amusement in his voice.

"Then why would you-"

"The bath is for you. I thought you might enjoy complete privacy for once," the man cut her off. The woman's heart skipped a beat.

"And you'll be in the room?" She found herself asking before she could stop herself.

"No, of course not. I have some official business to tend to today. I will be taking some men with me, but Kyungsoo will stay behind to keep things in line here," the man explained as he turned around and dusted off his hands.

"Then you mean... I have all the time in the world to soak in the bath?" The woman questioned. The man simply nodded. Eunyeong's face lifted with joy. She had never been able to soak in a tub before.

The general left soon after, leaving Eunyeong to do as she pleased with his room. Of course, she immediately dived into the tub after he was gone. The water was warm and refreshing against her skin. As she soaked, she rest her head on the edge of the tub with her eyes closed. It was the first time she felt relaxed in a while. Just as she began to doze off, the sound of the door opening caused her to raise her head. Her eyes were wide as she awaited another sound. Heavy footsteps echoed against the floor as the intruder walked deeper into the room.

"Who's there?" The woman called out hesitantly as she pulled herself flush against the side of the tub to conceal herself from peering eyes.

"Kyungsoo," a deep voice called back to her.

"Please don't come around the screen," she replied after a second of silence.

"What are you doing in the general's room still?" The man questioned her as he rummaged through a stack of papers on the other side of the screen.

"The general allowed me to take a bath while he was away."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask."

"I can't find the paper I'm looking for. Why can't I come on the other side of the screen?"

"Because I'm indecent."

"And?"

"What more reason do you need?"

"We're both men. If you're embarrassed by your size-"

"No! Of course not - I just don't want you to see."

"I need this paper."

"Then wait and I will get dressed."

"Why? If you are soaking then continue, it will take me just a few seconds."

"That's okay, I will just get dressed," the woman breathed out in a hurry as she began climbing out of the tub. Just as she stepped out, the man rounded the corner. The woman yelped at the sight of the man and fell to the floor with her arms wrapped around her figure tightly. She couldn't bear looking up at the man, out of fear of what would happen next.

The man didn't move for a few seconds and a suspenseful silence filled the room. Then, his foot began to move again until he was behind the woman. She tensed up at the feeling of cloth wrapping around her shoulders. Slowly, she raised her head and saw that the man was looking away from her with embarrassment painting his skin.

"P-please don't tell anyone about this," she stammered out.

"Get dressed. We will handle this later," the man replied calmly despite his flustered state. Eunyeong watched as he walked over to a shelf and rummaged through some papers before grasping one tightly in his clutches. Without a second glance, the man turn and left the room. The door rattled as the man shut it with extra force. Eunyeong's chest rose and fell quickly as panic bubble inside of her chest. What would happen now that the man knew her true identity?

Eunyeong hurriedly got dressed, brushed her hair out with shaky hands, and left the general's room in search of Baekhyun. The panic she felt only seemed to grow when she couldn't find the man in the inn. Had he gone out with his friends again? She ignored the bewildered glances she got as she ran out into the streets. Being in a foreign location with no friends or any sort of familiarity was overwhelming. When it became too much for the woman, she slipped into a small book shop and hid away in between two bookshelves. Her hands cupped the sides of her face as her knees dug into her chest. She let her eyes close, in an attempt to calm herself down, and found herself drifting off into unconsciousness after just a few minutes passed.

Later that evening, the bookshop keeper was forced to wake the sleeping soldier. The man's hand reach out and clashed against the woman's head - once gently and then a second more forceful. The woman's head shot up in a panic at the feeling. Without thinking, she reach for her dagger. The man put as much distance between himself and the soldier as he could at the gesture. He told the woman that he was closing, so it was time for her to go. The woman gave an embarrassed laugh as she realized the situation she was in. She pushed herself up on her feet before bowing respectfully and exiting the bookstore.

Outside, the sun had already set. Eunyeong released a sigh as she tried to soak up what little bit of the sun's warmth lingered in the air. Though everything in her body was telling her to run while she could, she knew that at some point she would have to return to the inn. She had signed herself up for this. She couldn't just run when things were spiraling out of control. And so, she lifted a foot and set forward towards her fate.

When she arrived back at the inn, men sat together outside with glasses of alcohol in their hands. They were surprisingly quiet for a group of drinking men. Their eyes barely even scanned over Eunyeong as she walked into the inn with her head held high. The inside of the building was much warmer than the air outside. The woman felt as if she were already sweating after just a few seconds of being there, though perhaps it was merely a side effect of the nerves she felt.

The woman hadn't even made it to the hallway before she was being stopped. She drew in a deep breath of air as she turn to look at whoever had grabbed her wrist. Her eyes found Baekhyun's shortly after. Despite the fact that men were all around them, Eunyeong couldn't stop herself from wrapping her arms around the man's neck. The soldier blinked in surprise at the sudden force but allowed his arms to wrap around the woman's shoulders.

"Where have you been?" He questioned her quietly.

"Asleep in a bookstore," she answered as she slowly pulled away from the man. Her cheeks were painted a bright shade of pink as she realized what she had just done. Baekhyun simply laughed, as if the woman were telling a joke rather than the truth.

"Of course you were," he played along. When the woman didn't laugh, his smile fell. "You were?"

The woman wasn't able to explain herself any further. The general cleared his throat from behind the woman, causing her shoulders to stiffen. Baekhyun eyed the pair suspiciously as Eunyeong turned to look at the tall man. His eyes peered down at her with a darkness to them that she wasn't familiar with.

"Come with me," was all he said before he turned and walked down the hall. The woman didn't waste time in doing so. Baekhyun hesitated, torn between wanting to speak up and not wanting to step out of line. In the end, he found himself watching as his friend disappeared into the general's room.

Eunyeong felt her stomach twist upon seeing Kyungsoo sitting on the general's floor. His eyes flickered up and scanned her carefully before he turned his attention back towards the yea resting on the table. While the woman had wanted to try to keep her confident facade up, it was hard for her hands to rest by her side. Her fingers pick at one another nervously as she stood by the door, waiting for what would happen next.

"Why are you just standing there?" The general wondered aloud as he sat down on the floor across from Kyungsoo. Hesitantly, the woman stepped forward and took a seat next to the man. Kyungsoo glanced up at the woman again when she was across from him. There was a conflicted expression on his face as he gazed at her. For a moment the woman wished she had been blessed with the ability to read minds.

"General," she found herself calling out without control. "If I turn myself in will my parents be able to live afterward?"

Both of the men in the room froze at the question. Kyungsoo's eyes averted over to the man next to Eunyeong. The general's eyes were wide as he looked over at the woman next to him.

"Where is this coming from?" He questioned with a nervous huff.

"I-"

"Did something happen?" Kyungsoo interrupted the woman with faux concern. The woman's eyebrows raised at the question. Her mouth open and closed a few times as she tried to formulate a reply.

"You didn't tell him?" She asked with astonishment.

"Tell him what?" Kyungsoo continued his act. The woman's eyebrows scrunched together from the admiration she felt at that moment.

"Someone better tell me something," Chanyeol commented as he raised his rice wine to his lips.

"Kyungsoo... found out today," the woman revealed to the man. The general froze, the glass in his hands stuck against his lips. After a few seconds, he lowered the glass back down onto the table.

"Well, this happened sooner than I anticipated," the man finally said.

"Do you mean you already know?" Kyungsoo asked. When the general nodded, his companion scoffed in disbelief.

"I cannot believe this."

"I cannot believe you were willing to lie to me to cover her tracks."

"I cannot believe you did lie to me and cover her tracks."

The men stared at one another with offense on their features for a few seconds before Eunyeong reach out and grabbed the general's wine. His eyes followed her hand as she lifted the drink to her lips, but before she could consume the liquid he grabbed her hand and took the glass away.

"After last night I don't think you should drink again for a while," he told her with a small laugh.

"It was a tragedy to see," Kyungsoo nodded.

"Then this is it? This isn't going to be a big deal?" The woman questioned with complete confusion after a moment of silence passed.

"With that man from the forest gone, as well as his men, there is no one else that knows about a woman being in our army. As long as we keep it under wraps then everything should be fine," the general told her. "But once this war is over, you and your family should move to new lands."

"Can I ask what made you do this?" Kyungsoo asked. Eunyeong happily obliged. The man's expression softened as the woman explained the complex situation. When she was finished, the man sat in awe.

"I know I came here to save my father's life, but since I got here I've been wrapped up in this war. I intend to go to the end. I want to do as much as I can for this army," the woman began as she attempted to steal a drink from the general's wine again.

"You can start by obeying your general," the tall man scolded her as he saved his glass for the second time.

——————————————————————————

a / n : hi, so this chapter is short and pretty lackluster. i’ll be completely honest - i am currently experience a writing block with this story. i’m not sure where i want to take it or how to get there. SO, if this is terrible please let me know and i’ll redo it or something. anyways, thanks for reading. x

16 notes · View notes

fyrapartnersearch · 3 years

Text

Looking for some sci-fi shenanigans!

Obligatory long post ahead warning: this post is quite long and I know it may be intimidating to some readers but please don’t let it put you off if you’d still like to rp with me :)

Hello ladies, gents and fellow rpers. After having a writing blast and seeing how I’ve got room for some more partners I’ve decided to come back in search of some partners who are interested in what I’m looking for.I’ve got a good ten or so odd years of rping experience under my belt but any potential partners do not necessarily have to have the same experience, they simply need to fit under these three things:

-third person only with correct spelling, grammar and punctuation.

- at least one small (no less than seven lines) paragraph per post as well as being willing to write more if the situation calls for it. Please do not contact me intending to give me only small paragraphs with each response as the above is simply the bare minimum I’ll accept if there’s not much going on in the rp that warrants a full paragraph.

-no one liners, one worders, script talk, poorly written sentences or just laziness in general.

This isn’t terribly much to ask for as picky as it sounds.

An important thing I shall mention is that NSFW (i don’t fade to black nor do I care when the smut happens. Just please don’t leave me once the smut has happened like lots of people seem to unfortunately do) and dark themes are a thing that occur in all my rp’s so I require you to at least be eighteen before you reach out to me. I will not accept anyone younger than 18 since I myself am in my early twenties. Underaged characters are also a no go as well. Please know that I’m in the eastern Australian time zone but almost any time zone Is compatible for me as I am awake at very odd hours. Another important thing I shall add is that you must be able to post at least once or more a day and if I don’t get any response after two weeks then I shall simply move on (only exception is if you notify me beforehand as to why you may not be able to post for a while. I’m not that vicious).

I only rp as male characters, as it’s simply my preference, I do MxM or FxM pairings. I will not double and I do not play multiple characters. I don’t do sub/dom dynamics when it comes to any aspect of the relationship. My characters are also non human (they’re aliens since this is a sci-fi rp after all) but what species your character is doesn’t matter to me at all as long as it’s not some god modded Mary Sue. Please remember that alien simply means a creature not from earth. Aliens can have fur, scales, feathers, etc, depending on where they come from. An alien with fur or scalies is not a furry or a scalie and please do not refer to them as such as it’s rude to label someone’s character as something they’re not. I will not write with someone who will insist that the theory of chimpanzees and humans unable to crossbreed should apply to hybrid characters regardless of whether they’re alien/alien or human/alien. This is fiction, not reality. Please also do not control my characters or dictate their actions. My characters are also premade and only have descriptions, I don’t do face claims or pics. I also do not care if you make a character up on the spot.

Please remember that this is a sci-fi rp and that I will not accept requests to do fandoms or any genre that doesn’t fit within the category of sci-fi. i will not accept a character that has no place in a sci-fi rp either like a dragon,harpy,demon, elf or some other fantasy creature.

All aboard the galactica!:

The galactica was a first class explorer ship led by only the greatest of military leaders and alliance figures. Many cadets dreamed of the day that they would one day either get to work onboard the ship whilst many more longed for the day that they’d be chosen as it’s next captain. To be the leader at the helm of the ship was considered the greatest honour and duty one could ever have befall them. Not everyone is content with having the responsibility of an entire fleet on their shoulders nor are the first few days, months or even years of being captain easy. To top it off, not everyone always agreed with the captains choice of their chosen protégé. As a wise man once said, one must be a follower before they could become a leader. When disaster strikes, will the remaining crew members be able to accept their new dynamic, or will it all fall to chaos?

(Important point of notice: I will be playing the character chosen to be the next captain of the galactica, you can either play as my character’s rival or a friend who has turned a bit cold from jealousy. I’m also open to you being the one who was chosen to be the next captain.)

Precious one:

It was supposed to be a simple job with a end goal that would benefit just about everyone: escort the snobbish prince/princess of lektora to their new home on their betrotheds home world and return home to malgor to have a secret celebration with the other knights, guards and castle staff about how they’d be free to live in peace once more whilst the king and queen were too busy praising themselves for all they’d accomplished in life. Sadly, not everyone seems to be happy about the two main planets of power coming together as one and an unknown party has sought to stop it. What was once a simple journey to and from one place has become a quest that will cause views and hearts to change with each passing day and moment as two people fight to survive and figure out what went wrong before it’s too late.

(Important point of notice: I do not mind who plays what. Just let me know who you’d like to be :))

Academy days:

*the galaxy alliance and military defence force academy was one of the most respected training academies in the known galaxies. Men, women, aliens, humans and all of those who were in between went there to study, train and, one day if they passed the mentally, emotionally and physically gruelling years of tests, fly and be put in their own squadron. There were approximately six spots to fill on any team and the cadet who suited that spot the most would be given the title of pilot, squad leader, second in command, engineer, gunner and navigator. Each team was similar but unique in what they did. Not everyone gets along though and rivalries grow high during that delicate time between graduating and being put on a team. What happens when the top student and the lonesome outcast with a temper clashes?*

(Important point of notice: I’m also open to this being a story about new recruits on a space ship who still have a fair few things to learn before they can consider themselves official crew members.)

First day on the job:

Everyone at the space academy remembers graduation day. The day where they became recognised as the very things they strived to be whether it’s a pilot, an engineer, mechanic, a simple Jack of all trades or even a commander if they worked hard enough. Everyone also remembers the few days after the big Moment as well. Days where one is expected to take to whatever rank they’ve had bestowed upon them almost immediately and the responsibilities that came with it as if they’d been born to do it from day one. Some things are easier said than done though, especially when trouble finds ways to manifest in forms that many would not suspect to be of any cause for concern.

(Important point of notice: I will be playing the newly graduated commander of a small crew. You are free to play as either a crew member of any rank or even a trouble making character like a criminal or something similar that gives my character a run for their money. Possibilities are endless)

Runaway royalty:

The life of a Royal was simple yet complex at the same time. They were weighed on hand and foot and never had to lift a finger to do anything provided there was a maid or servant nearby willing to do whatever task it was the royal had for them. They were expected to grow into decent, respectable leaders who could ruler a planet fairly without struggle. For many royals, they were content to follow this regularly repeating path of “destiny” that their ancestors had set them on. All but one it seems. What happens when a sheltered prince/princess takes their chance on the world beyond the walls of their castle for a chance to see the universe itself?

(Important point of notice: you will be playing the prince/princess. I’ll be playing the non Royal character they run into.)

Worlds apart:

War. War was a terrible thing that brought nations to their knees and saw many people lose their lives and freedom. Many people and aliens liked to think that all the major wars were over and done with, that they’d never have to relive the horrors that once fell upon them. To put it simply: if no one hears about bad happenings, then it’s not their problem that needs to be taken care of nor does it exist. Sadly, it does not seem to be the case for everyone. A stranger from a planet so far away that many do not believe it to exist turns up on the doorstep of an alien who is forced to realise that war could very well be just around the corner once more.

Forced:

“there’s no such thing as a bad person. Only bad choices.” Is a saying that is older than time itself. For many who are forced into a position where they have no other choice but to put their morals aside and do as they’re told, this is all too true. A space farer is captured by criminals and forced to choose between death or working as the criminals captain’s personal assistant. That means every order has to be obeyed and every rule must be followed or consequences will be dealt by force. As time passes and life go ons, the captured spacer starts to see his predicament in a different light.

(Important point of notice: I will be playing the captured spacer. You will be playing the captain.)

Forbidden romance:

aliens and humans are forbidden from associating with one another in any way that isn’t political. Whilst the two races have put aside enough of their differences to coexist in their own little pockets of space, not everyone is accepting of the idea that the two different species could live together as one, let alone ever simply just coexist peacefully together without insisting that alien planets and human planets are to be kept seperate. To trespass on the strictly human or alien occupied planets is a crime that few dare to commit. What starts out as a simple act of one sided rebellion and show of courage turns into an unanticipated adventure.

(Important point of notice, I shall be playing the alien. I’m open to this also being an alien X alien pairing.)

The hunter and the hunted:

bounty hunting was one of the few illegal professions in the galaxy that made any trouble you got into for participating in the act of killing or kidnapping someone for worth it depending on who it was you’d been given the task of tracking down. Many bounties were more profitable alive of course since it cut back on many of the legal troubles one could face if caught with a dead body. A galaxy renowned bounty hunter has been tasked with taking down one of the roughest and most wanted criminals known to man and alien with the orders to return them dead or alive. Will they succeed or fail like many before them have?

(Important point of notice: I shall be playing the criminal. You shall be playing the bounty hunter.)

Space criminals and the law:

humans and aliens have been living amongst each other side by side ever since humanity dared to venture beyond the Milky Way and made first contact with aliens. With the solar system no longer being man’s only playground other planets were quickly colonised under the new alliance between extraterrestrials and Homo sapiens. Whether you were an alien, human or a hybrid did not matter in the known galaxies. All that mattered was who you were. Not everyone took to the integration very well (there were numerous protests on both sides) but most people were willing to share in the hopes of peace. Not everyone had good intentions though……

Trouble in the alien kingdom:

the planet of (insert generic planet name here) was one of prosperity, hardship and wealth. The kingdom of (insert generic kingdom name here) was ruled by a king and a queen whose heir was betrothed to a rival planet in the hopes that a political marriage would prevent another war from happening. Only problem was that no one could see the rival planets true plans….all but one. Unfortunately no ones going to listen to a deranged commoner who probably may not even be telling the truth. What’s one to do when no one will listen?

Exile:

The wind howled as thunder crashed and shrieked all around the abandoned cargo ship. Rain pelted the metal hull, turning the ground into a cold, treacherously slippery and muddy shallow river. The ship itself had crashed into the planet countless centuries ago and was slowly being reclaimed by the environment. Plants grew from cracks in the floor as moss and vines decorated the walls. A figure sat miserably hunched in what was once the cockpit of the ship, their only shelter from the raging elements outside but not from the storm that raged inside of them. The figure leapt to their feet as the sounds of footsteps in the mud drew closer and they held their breath. Who would dare to venture out here on such a miserable night?

War of the worlds:

humans and aliens were never meant to coexist peacefully with one another. There was too much fear, Too much misinformation and too much bias on both sides for such a thing to have ever been successful. It was the humans fault that the war had started. They were the ones who’d shot down the alien ship that had been packed with specially chosen diplomats that represented each alien race known to the galaxies they dwelled in that had been on their way to earth to negotiate a truce and a plan for peace. They hadn’t even hesitated to shoot the ship full of aliens yet they’d been surprised when war had been declared on the spot. Two races. Two worlds so different yet the same fighting one another for what was either a mistake or intentional murder.

Rehab:

The UGWP alliance (unite the galaxies for the protection of all worlds and for peace alliance) portrayed themselves as calm, charismatic and kind men and women who held only the thoughts of a life together with all species living happily together. They advertised campaigns for inter species jobs, provided information to the public about human/alien interactions and encouraged diversity amongst planets. Their rehabilitation program for troublesome fellows was considered to be a god send to try and cut down on the amount of space related crimes. No one ever questioned what went on beyond the closed doors to the facility, if they did, the UGWP would have their darkest secrets revealed. Something they strove to keep under wraps. When the arrival of a particularly wild prisoner occurs, the threat of their first failure and first escaped prisoner is lurking around the corner.

(Important point of notice: in this rp idea I’d be playing said prisoner, I don’t mind if you choose to be one as well.)

Academy days:

the galaxy alliance and military defence force academy was one of the most respected training academies in the known galaxies. Men, women, aliens, humans and all of those who were in between went there to study, train and, one day if they passed the mentally, emotionally and physically gruelling years of tests, fly and be put in their own squadron. There were approximately six spots to fill on any team and the cadet who suited that spot the most would be given the title of pilot, squad leader, second in command, engineer, gunner and navigator. Each team was similar but unique in what they did. Not everyone gets along though and rivalries grow high during that delicate time between graduating and being put on a team. What happens when the top student and the lonesome outcast with a temper clashes?

Captured:

Space criminals have been around ever since advanced technology allowed others to travel and live in space as if they were living anywhere else. They’re often cunning, tricky to catch and more often than not are clever at disguising themselves whenever those wanted posters come up. It takes skill to be on the wrong side of space law and true talent to get away with it. The galaxy’s current most wanted man has finally been captured by an alliance captain and his crew. Will he beg for mercy? Will he be given a trial before being thrown into a cell to rot or will he be given a chance to turn himself around with some hard labour?

(Important point of notice: I’ll be playing the criminal for this one. You will be the alliance captain)

Enslaved:

imagine living the life of one of the most successful people on the run that could exist. Galaxies trembled at your name. You and your crew swam in wealth and the going was good. Mutiny, sadly and sometimes not sadly, exists on its own accord. One man reflected on this as he was forced to his feet. A collar attached to a chain and electromagnetic handcuffs prevented his escape as he stood for all those who cared to glance as they walked by in the market to see. No one wants to have their only life’s purpose to be to serve another……only sometimes people don’t get that choice.

(Important point of notice: I’ll be playing the slave/servant. You’ll be the master/mistress.)

Betrothed:

for as long as there has been civilisation and leaders, there has been arranged marriages. Arranged marriages, or betrothals as they were more often called, consisted of pairing two people together and making them get married in order to secure ties to another land or another planet. Political marriages benefited everyone but the married pair it always seemed. After all, you couldn’t possibly be happy being married to a complete and utter stranger? How does one who is betrothed build a life of love and prosperity when the one who bears the rings of their union is not the one who also bears their heart?

(Important point of notice: this can go two ways, either our characters are betrothed to each other or one character is betrothed. The idea has endless possibilities)

Invasion:

march 18th in the year of 6079 was the day that the aliens invaded earth. They’d been planning the take over for some time as they came prepared and easily took out Earth’s defence forces. No one knows exactly why the extraterrestrial beings from the outer worlds came to the humble blue and green planet the humans had existed on for millions of years nor did they seem to have any true intentions known other than conquering the planet and taking it for their own. This has led to the belief that all aliens must be the cruel monsters the humans stories have made them out to be. What happens when the actions of one alien puts that to the test?

(Important point of notice: I’m open to having this idea turned around and having the humans invade an alien world to take over.)

The chosen:

The galaxy alliance had chosen its newest crew to serve and protect the known galaxies. Five young cadets who’d graduated at the top of their classes and would hopefully mark the start of a new generation of spacers and heroes. The leader of the new crew has yet to be decided and tensions are high because of this. Can differences be put aside and acceptance shown? Or will nothing but chaos ensue?

The Walking wounded:

when one worked as a galaxy defence force member, they were on the frontline of everything. Every battle. Every loss. Every victory. Every struggle that the force went through they had to be there and follow the rules. You could not kill an unarmed person regardless of whether they were hostile or not. You could not turn down a plea for help even when there was reasons to suspect something was amiss. In simple terms: you simply couldn’t do anything that would make your morals be questioned. What happens when even the captain says to leave all those rules and everything you were taught by the door when faced with someone who seems to be the exception to the rule. What’s the right thing to do not by them but the entire galaxy?

Stowaway:

the galaxies were once a place of freedom and exploration. A place where you had no limits as to where you wanted to go. Now thanks to new laws, permits are required to access certain systems, quadrants and galaxies. Problem is, this permit is unobtainable by the average civilian so many have taken to learning the art of boarding another’s ship and hoping for the best. Discovery is more or less a matter of life and death. What happens when someone is unfortunate enough to be discovered?

Monster:

aliens. Aliens were terrifying beasts that were the monster in every bedtime story the humans told their children to keep them home at night. Many mothers wept when their sons and daughters applied to the space military in order to keep the extra terrestrial scum away from the galaxies they’d claimed as their own. When a human ship crashes on an alien world so far away from human civilisation it may as well not exist to the aliens and a crew member is found lost and alone by a wandering alien, will their fate be decided by a monster? Or a benevolent being?

(Important point of notice: I will be playing the alien in this scenario. I’m also open to the characters situations being swapped around so it’s the alien who crashes.)

On the run:

even on the most modern of planets, life on the lamb can be difficult. There’s authorities to avoid and even more rules to break in the game of survival. No one takes pity on those who have done wrong to the point that they have their face in the paper. Even if it’s not your fault will anyone give you shelter from the harsh cold winds of reality and a biased opinion. What happens when someone does take a chance on a poor wayfaring stranger? Will the wrong doer be turned in or given a new lease on life?

Disgraced:

when one entered the royal guard they took upon themselves an oath that bound them by blood and courage to the dedication of the protection of their king, queen and the kingdoms heirs. They were sworn to protect them from any harm whilst at the same time not allowed to use their position or power to hurt anyone else. When one breaks that oath, they are sent away in disgrace and branded as a traitor who must swear to never return. Life on the run changes people, sometimes for the better…..or for worse.

Space pirates and nobles:

space was a vast starry and endless sea that many voyaged across for the purpose of research, leisure or finding ones destiny. Like any real ocean, it was filled with dangers. The most feared of all was space pirates. Bands of blood thirsty cut throats and scandalous troublemakers whose sole pleasure in life was to steal, kill and take others prisoner against their will. Only pirates dare to do what other criminals would not. When a merchant ship is robbed by pirates what fate will befall the nobles onboard?

Healing wounds, growing love:

winter on the planet of malgor is one that is feared for its extreme weather. Snowstorms could appear out of nowhere and many a traveller had frozen to death whilst trying to make their way from one village to another. It was also a time where people were at their most vulnerable, relying on the winter harvest to feed every mouth that had been born and raised in the kingdom meant no mercy was spared for poor wayfaring strangers. When a kind soul finds a wounded outcast and decides to bring them home, they discover a threat that’s lurking just beyond the borders of their place of protection.

The knight and the heir:

royals could be spoilt. There was no denying that. A life of good food, wealth, the knowledge that they’d be pampered and weighed on hand and foot by servants was more than enough to turn even the most well mannered child into an insufferable brat. The knights tasked with the protection of the future royals knew this all too well. What happens when one particularly gruff, no nonsense knight refuses to bow to the whim of their future ruler and shows them what it means to be a true leader?

The last of a dying breed:

long ago, in a time when nobles, governments and space Pirates ruled the starry seas of space, there was a terrifying race of aliens that were considered to be the most dangerous creatures to have ever lived. When the great wars started up again due to rising tensions, the humans destroyed the planet these aliens lived on to ensure the battlefield was even. The aliens were furious at the death of an entire race and very quickly turned each and every human occupied planet into a warzone littered with their bases and encampments. Only in very small pockets of the universe does this war not exist. What happens when the last member of the species shows up on a small backwater planet?

(Important point of notice: I will be playing the alien who is the last of their kind, you are free to play as a human or the story can be made to suite a scenario where you are also an alien.)

Harden my heart:

once upon a time, there was two friends who were the best of friends that anyone could have ever seen. Two people who had each other’s backs through thick and thin. Two people who supported each other endlessly even if their morals weren’t entirely inline with each other’s. Two friends who swore to never leave each other’s sides. Alas with the time of great growing came changes, the two friends bond had severed and they’d gone their separate ways in life. What happens when they run into each other many years later?

(This idea is one open to brainstorming, anything is possible.)

captain on deck!:

captains weren’t meant to fall in love with their subordinates. They were supposed to be well refined leaders who only mingled with those of a similar status. They represented the people they worked for after all, therefore they had an image that had to be strictly maintained towards the public in order to not be disgraced in any form. Behind closed doors however…..feelings were allowed to be a little more free. Secret lovers were frowned upon but one could take the risk if they were careful. After all, the captains word was law.

yes sir!:

order.serve.fight.lead.mourn.sleep.eat.rethink your life choices and repeat. Such was the ways of a military lifestyle on a world where war seemed to be a permanent occurrence and the leaders of every world trying their best to outspite one another with their relentless attacks that it made one think of how they could improve the boring daily routine they endured each and every day. In the army, you have to be tough if you want to be a leader. You had to be charismatic, strong, cold, incapable of doing anything that would sway you to possibly turn the other cheek and let your comrades be hurt. However, even the most stoic and battle hardened leaders can get lonely despite the fact that attachments to ones comrades outside of anything but friendship are forbidden by an unspoken law.

I need you:

space is a cruel mistress to even those who are experienced with charting her waters. Space, although beautiful, is often the grave of many brave explorers, soldiers and other space faring strangers. When a stranger comes to scavenge parts from a newly crashed ship in the hopes of finding something useful, they come across a familiar face. Old feelings stir and clash with one another when the crash’s survivor awakens and finds out who their rescuer is.

Sooooo….. about those pairings. What has two stars next to it is what I’m going to play if we choose the scenario:

1: enemies to lovers or rivals.

2: **captured criminal** x prison guard or other prisoner.

3: two soldiers from seperate sides falling in love.

4: **academies bad boy/outcast** x top student

5: **low ranking ship crew member/second in command/captured space criminal** x captain.

6: **commoner/rogue/knight/street rat** x prince/princess/king/queen

7: **slave/servant** x master

8: army superior x **lower ranking soldier**

9: married person X unmarried person

10: stowaway x captain

11: nurse x **injured soldier**

12: human x **alien**

13: bully x **victim**

14: old lovers/friends finding each other again.

PLEASE DO NOT APPROACH ME IF:

1: YOU GHOST AT THE DROP OF A HAT.

2: YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO PUT EFFORT IN TO MEET MY REQUIREMENTS.

I’m open to discussing and potentially mixing these ideas up till we get something that we both like. If you want to learn more about a certain idea tell me the name and I shall expand on it.

The only platforms I rp on are discord,telegram and google hangouts. I will not rp on any other platform other than the ones listed. If you do not have any of those then unfortunately we cannot rp. When you reach out to me requesting for an rp via one of the below platforms In the opening message tell me what idea you liked, why you liked it, give me a little introduction about you and you must put 123 somewhere in your message so that I know you’ve read all of my post, don’t just put “hi wanna rp”. Make it interesting.

My contacts

Discord: crankypurplespacecat#6187

My telegram: Tiberionwars

My hangouts: [email protected]

I look forwards to meeting potential partners.

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #long term #literate #action #adventure #drama angst #original #post apocalyptic #romance #scifi #submission #long post

2 notes · View notes

imagines-to-quench-thirst · 5 years

Text

Leaving legacy

Warnings: Swearing, use of violence and guns, women pitted against each other (I guess)

Pairing: Joker x reader - I gave him the name Jerome since I like the way and to me, it fits ever since I watched Gotham it stuck on

Summary: the Joker is captured by Batman. Leaving Y/n, his girlfriend to hold up his legacy but what happens when a woman nudges herself between the criminal and the good girl turned mafia leader?

'Run, Y/n! Fucking run!!' The criminal in purple cried out to his lover seeing the woman confusedly run in the club finding comfort in the magnitude of people in there. Looking back she sees the blue-red lights shining through the glass door. The car engine rumbled driving away from the club. Looking at Frost near her, he shakes his head.

'As of today, the Joker has been imprisoned by the Batman and the police.' It was painful to see her boyfriend being subdued by gas bombs leaving him defenseless and unconscious. Especially the aftermath of it all the Batman taking him into his car handcuffed heading towards Arkham Prison. 'Frost, what do we do now?' The frightened woman asked the loyal companion by her side.

'We have a backup plan. Follow me.' First walks out of the small departed as Y/n tails behind him unsure of the action. At least Forst wouldn't hurt her. Right? Entering J's office Frost retirees a black suitcase flopping it on the desk opening the top lid. He turns it around to face Y/n her eyes catching a glimpse of white papers tacked even pushed in the suitcase falling all over the place but only a small letter sat neatly on it with the words scribbled on it 'Y/n'. Picking up the letter she opens it reading

Y/n, princess, dove,

If you are reading this then it means that I am not anymore capable of doing my "business" I was arrested and the outcome is unsure. So I have to Frost a briefcase holding each valuable document that is signed for you if I was taken away or killed. My club, cars and my other "ventures" are yours. You are the only who I can trust. And if I'm in a Prison. Wait for me, I won't be there long. 💋💋💋

Besides, I need my kisses to survive.

Your Jerome

Placing the letter down with shaky hands Y/n looks at the piles of documents as an explosion of stress and anxiety power over her. 'Frost, what if I won't be good? What if I won't be able to handle this? What if I-' 'If Mr.J thought that you couldn't handle it then he wouldn't hand his entire life to you.'

Frost steps close to her putting a much-needed arm on her shoulder 'I will be here as your advisor to help you. That is my oath.' With more doubtfulness nesting in her soul, she nods desiring that she will do it right.

The streets are empty, deserted and alone with the company of the cold sharp wind and the naked bare trees they all guided to the same destination, Arkham Asylum. The purple car howled as it came to a standstill delivering its new owner to the entrance door. Y/n steps outside seeing the hush silence looming on the place she looks up seeing the floors and floors of windows which presumably all held the dangerous criminals. Waving to the guard at the reception she hands him a document.

'Visit for the Joker? Huh, I guess miracles do happen.' The guard retorted teasingly seeing Y/n's forced smile as he hands her the visitors pass. Walking through the door she sits down waiting for her boyfriend to appear only a glass partition in between them. The door on the other side creaks open as two guards guide in the Joker his hands and upper body in a straight jacket. He sits down seeing the woman he loved holding in tears to come off as if she is tough enough to overcome this. One of the policemen grabs the phone handle placing it on the table prompting it upwards. Y/n repeated the motion as she places it to her ear.

'Hey J. How are you?' Y/n asks wanting to hear his voice. He mumbles as he shakes the jacket striving to free his arms. Y/n turns to the policeman 'His nose is itching. Can you... Please?' One policeman pauses but steps forwards scratching the Joker's nose. He steps back in line with his fellow partner. 'Thanks, Princess.' He finally speaks 'You should thank him.' She points to the policeman as Joker turns to him grumbling a broken 'thank you'.

His head shoots back to her asking softly 'Are you alright?' Y/n shrugged 'As much as I can be. But it's not the same without you.' J looks at her seeing the frown that probably nested itself for the last 6 days that he was in this hellhole. 'Come on, princess, I need to see your smile. Do you know how much frowns I see from others? P-l-e-n-t-t-y.' Y/n chuckles at his spelling mistake chatting him immediately 'There is no extra "t" in plenty.' 'Oh, are you sure? It thinks there is and its purpose it's special.' Y/n looks at him weirdly as he proceeds 'The "t" is there to make you smile.' He shows off his own smile laced with the metal teeth giving off more sinister intent but still, a smile solely earmarked for her.

'I hope that you are behaving.' J says to his lover seeing the visible smile wash away being replaced by a stern lip line '...Yeah... I am the new job is-' 'Okay, that is enough visits are over!' the guard screamed over her sentence. Joker looks once more over his shoulder grunting 'I believe that the lady didn't finish her sentence.' he turns back to her 'Continue.' Y/n takes a much needed deep breath saying slowly 'As I was saying, the new job is hard but I'm handling it well.'

Joker stood up as she finished her sentence an enormous grin on his pale face 'Great. I will head back now, Princess. I love you~~~' Joker slurred his words in a mocking manner as the guards behind him cringed at the PDA while Y/n elicited a smile from her again, one he will remember when his days here are hard. Y/n stands up waving J goodbye.

'Frost calls the Falcone Mafia to tell them that the drugs will be sent through a food truck. In about 3 days...' Y/n said firmly to her right-hand man handing him the last piece of document. Taking the precious documents with a bow he exits the room leaving her to her peace and quiet. Leaning back on the big leather chair Y/n closes her eyes feeling the sleep creep back into her mind and with no coffee in sight to shoo it away. Glazing her eyes in the home line phone she sees a number appearing. 'Shit... What now?' Picking up the phone and pressing it to her ear she hears a chirpy and creeps voice coming from the other side. The cheery creepily voice asked in a high pitched rhythm

-Hi, is this Y/n L/n number?

-Yes, this is she. Who is this?

-Oh, me? I'm Dr. Quinzel, the Arkham physiologist. I'm in charge of the Joker.

-Since when do they let normal, sane people around criminals?

-You are too funny Ms. L/n. I just wanted to call you and say that Mr. Joker's visiting hours will be sentenced down to one visit every 3 months.

-What?! Why?!

-Since Mr. Joker is here for the crimes he committed we want to restrict him of him usual surrounding to see what are his triggers. We will phone you when you can see him.

-Since when is that allowed? Who signed this off? Where is my signature agreeing to this-this shenanigans?

-Ha-ha...Excuse me. But there is a need for such approval of a third party since he himself signed the document.

-He did, did he? That man is in a straight jacket! He can barely piss with his hands tied behind his back and you are telling me that Joker singed WILLINGLY a document that said he could not see me?!

-Yes, exactly. Good day. Goodbye.

The woman, Quinzel, hangs up leaving Y/n to herself to calm down her storm that swirled inside. With no coffee still in sight.

Speeding into the Arkham Prison letting the engine roar loudly as possible radiating a silent alarm of the incoming rage of one woman. Stepping out of her car she hears the near guards whispers to each other 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Passing them with one step of her glorious heels she fumes into the building crammed with criminals halting at the reception putting on her face the fakest smile, yet. 'Hi, how are you?' 'Go-good.' 'Great. I'm here to visit Mr. Joker. I was the woman here... About 4 days ago. Remember?' 'Yeah, you wore the beautiful beige fluffy coat.' That's right and thank you it is fluffy. So can I meet him?' 'Yes, right-' 'Thanks, I know the way.'

Layering the fake sentences on to the fake conversation her heels clicked as hard as her rage was prominent on her face and hands. Walking along she heard the distant whistles and cat-calling to her form. That is some to her and some the purple Lamborghini that sat pretty waiting outside for her female owner. Making her way into a room Y/n looks at the two small chairs with an equally small table at the center of it. The room is small and wet with some tiles fallen down cracking on the floor leaving no feeling of a safe space, despite being in the most dangerous prison imaginable. Sitting in the chair she props her bag onto the table keeping it close. Patiently waiting for her boyfriend to say some sweet sweet words to her.

The door flung open with another pair of sharper heels entered the room. A tall, blonde beautiful woman with the signature white doctor's coat on her shoulders. That's her. Y/n thought, feeling her mind already sharpen her knives and aiming her guns that she conveniently abandoned at home since bringing guns here is forbidden. The woman offers her a hand to shake.

'Hi, nice to meet ya. I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I'm the main psychologist here.' Yes, that's her. The equally chirpy woman smiled at Y/n replicating the same tone of cheeriness face to face. Shaking her hand with a firm squeeze Y/n replies equally warm. 'Hi, Y/n L/n.' Harleen looked at the woman in front of her opening a file of the Joker. Letting the headshot be in Y/n's peripheral sight. As much as Y/n wanted to kill her she knew she should befriend her at least to make her an inside man.

'Why are you already here, Miss L/n?' Harleen asked quickly as her fingers interlaced with each other. 'I want to visit my boyfriend. And no document will stop me.' Nodding dutifully Harleen fires back 'Well since Mr. J signed the document you have no other way than to approve his request.' Looking at the psychologist she had to laugh 'If you really talked to him you would know that I'm a good person I'm the one who keeps him in check. Thanks to me he didn't kill anyone...innocent.' 'Oh, I know he also said that you are one of the reasons he stopped doing cocaine.' 'That's right.' 'And he is having withdrawals.' 'Bullshit. The last he had a withdrawal was 2 years ago. Maybe you gave him something worth going insane. I mean we are in a prison/mental institution. I also know that many institutions such as this one spike the patient's food with any drug be it cocaine, meth, opioid-' 'That's not OUR intention. I have been here for the last 3 years and I can assure you-' Y/n looks once more at the woman seeing her glasses dip down the arch of her nose stopping at the near end. 'Don't bullshit me. I can see just buy your clothes what kind of money do you make and how do you earn it.' Her blue eyes darted at the woman in front of her that threatened to talk about the appearance and she does appreciate a good duel. 'Your hair is too lose to be around patient while other competent nurses and doctors have their hair tied neatly and tightly into a bun since they are dealing with criminals and one for the raising problems would be of an attack on the staff using the loose hair as a means to pull them in and beat them. With your shaved legs you aren't here to work and neither are your intentions. Those shaven legs are here to show off to say in a subliminal "Hey, I'm here I have shaven my legs and I'm ready to bone." while other women wear nylon socks. To cover the long leg hairs since the working hours here are brutal. And-' 'I think that's enough.' Harleen stopped her with to victory insight.

'I'm good. I can go on. So as I was saying your feet...you wear the ever so cliché heels ever. Black Louboutin. Those cost a fortune. And even the pay of the highest personnel could barely cover half of the price. And don't tell me you saved up. Since those with the white sheen are rare mother fuckers. Once in a lifetime kinda rare. And on top of that, some hair that has fallen over your ear can tell me that you flirted with someone. You know the cliche swooping the hair behind the ear when people flirt.' Harleen halts at the last words her cover blown away 'So you did. I will say a patient. Very "prolific" patient. Someone who holds ample power outside these cell walls. Someone with the green hair. Now, Miss Quinzel that is very unethical. You should know better. Since he is taken.'

Harleen cowered in fear in front of the dangerous and sharp-tongued Y/n not preferring to give in to her tactics. Y/n all of the sudden stands up without letting Harleen speak or change her mind 'Take me to him. Show me that I am indeed a trigger. Or I will make sure you never come near my man. Ever again.' With an involuntary smile, Harleen stands up ushering her out of the area and towards J.

Walking behind Y/n looked at the influx of inmates all serving their time even seeing some familiar faces, discreetly waving. Passing the steel wall barricades they enter a new part of large prison the walls aren't made fo steel but of plexiglass with small holes drilled in to give the prisoners air. Stopping at the last one Harleen back away Y/n glancing at her J, her Jerome facing a corner in his straight jacket nearby a window seeing his/her purple car.

With her green bag in her hand and other placed on the glass Y/n whispers in relief 'J? Can you turn around, please?' He looks back at her seeing her deprived eyes and narrowly open mouth, her hair let loose to move freely, the bag he gifted her in her hand and her body, damn those curves and dips. Grumbling he turns back to face the wall hearing her sweet sweet voice 'J, this woman told me you signed a document saying I was some kind of a trigger. Is that true? Am I?'

Waiting for answers that he doesn't supply his cellmates next door answer instead of him 'Baby, with that body and confidence you can be my trigger.' said a thug that doesn't deserve a glance to be speared on. 'With that body, I would be completely grateful to God for once in my life.' said another trying to reel in her attention. The comments influx in as the ruckus evolved unbearably. Besides the comments, Y/n shouted through the glass 'I'll go back home then. I will see you every three months. I miss you.' Turning away from her lover she walks away leaving him in the same stance that he greeted her with. In front of a wall near the window. The same window that exhibited his girl entering the car and driving away to continue his legacy while he resides here. Surrounded by idiots and a whore.

For. Now.

Hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is always appreciated💚

375 notes · View notes

liloelsagranger · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7: Navigation of memory - Viridian Love Story (pokémon fanfiction)

My dear friends,

it’s been so long ago since I last updated my current fanfiction. Let me tell you why: My mother spent 60 days in hospital and 30 days in rehabilitation. She suffers from a severe liver cirrhosis due to a hepatitis she had as a child.

I visited her every single day and sat at her bedside. The doctors in my hometwon gave her 2-3 more days before she would die and my father and I were able to get her to a better hospital just in time, where she slowly made progress. It was terrible to see how my mother was feeling bad and she could hardly do anything on her own anymore. But now she is feeling much better, she is walking again without aids and has regained some courage. Nevertheless, she is on the waiting list for a liver transplant and I am in the test phase to see if I am a suitable donor. That’s why I was hardly ever active online, but that should change now, because I still love Team Rocket, there were simply more important things in the last three months. I hope you understand. Thank you!

Now, enjoy the new chapter!

«What’s the story with Mew?” Ash spoke up. Jessie and James exchanged meaningful glances. They weren’t sure if they were allowed to talk about a top-secret project of Team Rocket. After all, they would pass on confidential data to third parties and thus risk their jobs. On the other hand, they had long since gambled away another pardon from their boss.

“Go ahead!” Jessie let James go first. He cleared his throat, still not sure if he would enter forbidden territory.

”Giovanni has been working for years on his so-called Mew project. The goal is to find clues and possible whereabouts of this legendary Pokémon. To do this, they interview dozens of people to find out more and get to the bottom of Mew. Anyone who is questioned in a lengthy interrogation is then arrested and shipped off, because they don’t want important information to leak out. Only a few know the exact whereabouts of the deportees and the rumors and stories circulating about them make your blood run cold.” Team Rocket felt in error. The disclosure of such important information would have an aftermath.

Misty could not believe that there was a faint hope of finding her parents alive. “Where are the deportees taken to?” she wanted to know. Jessie and James were humming and hawing, they didn’t want to get more involved. Slowly, Misty’s patience tore. “Come on, guys! You know exactly where my parents could be! So pull yourself together and do the right thing for once” she demanded.

James sighed. “To find them we would have to break into the main base on a pretty deserted island that is not easy to reach. It is surrounded by high fences with barbed wire. Surveillance cameras have been installed everywhere. They can control every single spot on the island, stop intruders and lock them away. It won’t be easy” he explained.

“Why would you break into the main base? You guys work for Giovanni. Don’t you have a member card or something?” Ash thought there something fishy about the whole story. “Sure we would! But we’ve been suspended, because apparently, I screwed up!” Jessie threw an angry look at James. “Please, stop arguing now! There are more important things right now. For once, can you help us and bring us to this island? I’d be much obliged” Misty did not ask for much. She clung to the last straw of her almost extinguished hope.

Team Rocket turned their backs on them. “Brief review of the situation” Meowth whispered. “Should we help them or should we let them fidget?” Jessie and James considered their options. “The twerpette is looking for her mother, I can understand how it feels to be completely alone in the world, this loneliness can seriously drive you crazy. On the other hand, we have been suspended and another faux pas is out of question. We would have to be even more careful and rely entirely on our spying techniques. Do you think we could bring them in?” Jessie looked into the round. James nodded. “We have already mastered many hurdles. Just think of the Training Days many years ago. We were so inexperienced and green behind the ears, but we still passed with flying colors. Over the years we have acquired innumerable distractions, we can make ourselves practically invisible and nobody would notice that we are sneaking into the taboo area. Maybe we should risk it and should we finally loose our jobs, yes then you know my answer, then we will build up our own business.” He smiled gently but could not win Jessie over yet. They turned around. “We’re going to help you!”

“So is there a truce between us?” Ash asked. “For now,” Jessie shook his hand.

Team Rocket led the young students towards the harbor. There they would board a Rocket transport vehicle disguised as a cruise ship. They took two cabins and would only talk to each other under certain circumstances and when it was really necessary. They were not allowed to attract attention, but Jessie, James and Meowth had some costumes in their luggage that would help to hide their identity.

When Misty, Ash and Brock headed for the dining hall in the early evening, they were welcomed by a brightly lit room. The smell of delicious food wafted towards them, so that their mouths watered. They sat down at a round table a little aside and waited for the promised welcome drink. At the piano, the entertainer showed his talent and invited guests who had already dined to a slow waltz accompanied by violins. Nothing reminded of an undercover mission of Team Rocket. The guests chatted and enjoyed themselves, food was brought on silver trays. Men and women were treated to the most delicious meat and fish dishes they could find on the menu. “Are they serious?” Misty had to refrain from laughing when she discovered Jessie, James and Meowth in their seemingly unremarkable disguise. Jessie and James were dressed as if they came from a Puritan village. Meowth sucked on a pacifier and had a bib on. Ash rolled his eyes. “So much for not attracting attention!” They laughed.

For James the evening went on endlessly. No matter what Jessie was wearing, he could never take his eyes off her. She was a real beauty, even in rags and he was an absolute fool for having missed the chance. Jessie hardly paid any attention to him but stared at the dance floor and the many happy couples, who seemed so carefree. At some point, James could no longer stand the tense atmosphere and left the dining hall under the pretext that he needed some fresh air.

James reproached himself terribly. How could he deceive Jessie like that and put all the blame on her? He was pathetic and a real comrade pig. He had let her down several times before, but this time he had really screwed up. She was hurt and angry and wouldn’t forgive him so easily, even though he had saved her from the ghost Pokémon. It was up to him to smooth things over. A fresh sea breeze blew through his lavender locks. From far away he could see the harbor of the forbidden island. Each time, it reminded him of the time in Maiden’s Peak, where Jessie had for the first time indirectly admitted that feelings were involved in her rescue operation. James had been obsessed with this deceased beauty and he and Brock almost fell victim to a joking Gastly. James enjoyed reminiscing about their time in Kanto. They were still young and wild and had their whole life as beginner criminals ahead of them. He and Jessie had spent so many nights together, talking, laughing, and sometimes even crying when the situation was simply overwhelming. He found comfort in her and was able to unload his whole burden of the past on her. She listened patiently and could understand only too well how a messed-up childhood made them both what they are today. They were so similar, they simply belonged together, and James wished with all his heart that this strong bond between them would be reborn.

“Am I disturbing you?” Brock had approached him. “There’s quite a lot of air between you and Jessie, right?” James nodded his head but remained silent. “I don’t want to interfere with you too much, just this much: you two are meant for each other. I understood that already as a teenager. You were an unbeatable team, you supported each other and even if you got into each other’s hair, the waves were soon smoothed out. You won’t believe how much I wanted such a relationship back then. You are one heart and soul, and nothing can separate you, not even a stupid argument over trivialities. Tell her how you feel, tell her that you’re sorry and tell her better too early than too late. Please, don’t loose her, you guys are a perfect match!” With these words Brock turned away and left James standing at the railing. “Thank you” the Team Rocket agent muttered and took new courage.

Just as he was about to turn around, Jessie came towards him. It was time to ask her for forgiveness. His breath stopped, he was so nervous. “Jessie, can we talk?” A gentle smile played around her lips, but she shook her head. “Not yet.”

11 notes · View notes

harleenfleck · 4 years

Text

“Despite the danger (Part 1)”

Joker/Arthur Fleck x Reader Fic

Summary: Joker is the love of your life, despite the reputation it carries. You know that, but you don’t care, after he rescued you from a horrible hole you were trapped in. Now, you both lives together, being happy. But you ignore all the risks that come with being the lover of the Clown Prince of Crime.

Warning: Violence, mentions of prostitution, mentions of sexual things, not smut (Not yet)

Words: 2.9k

Notes: Well… Idk where did this come from. Okay, I know, was Lana, Lana was my inspiration baaaaaack, and now she did it while I was writing this.

The truth is I wanted to write something like this for a long time and I just encouraged myself to do it. I think it went well (? I’ve divided into two parts, just for more pleasureeeee.

Thanks to my two brain cells again for made synapsis, I don’t know what I’do without you gurls. Thanks to the Microsoft Translate for translating some things I couldn’t translate.

And agaaaain the same apology HAHA I'm sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, english is not my native language, is other, blablablablablaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Hope you like it! Wait for the Part 2! 😉

...

You woke up one morning, in the middle of some soft white sheets, the sunlight had come in through the window, causing you to open your eyes. You looked next to you, and there he was, ruining those white sheets with his green hair and his damaged clown makeup.

Yes, you are the Clown Prince of Crime dear lover.

Stretching out your arms, you looked at his face sleep peacefully. How could someone who committed crimes, murders and attacks look so angelic?

You kissed his forehead, got up carefully from bed so you wouldn't make any noise, looking for your underwear.

The night before, the assault he had planned for months had been so successful, there was so much emotion and energy in his body that he had to discharge it on you. And you didn't refuse it.

In a light dress, you walked out of the room, letting Arthur rest. Breakfast should be first, but you'd rather have a glass of cognac and a cigarette first. Looking out the window, drinking from the glass liquor, you thought all that comes with being the most wanted criminal in Gotham City. Sometimes it was anguish, anger and revenge. Other times it was successful.

Your toughts reminds you your past, your sad past.

The night when you and Joker met, something that could be dangerous, but him it was your only way out.

You lived in an environment you knew perfectly well you could die any moment, working in a stripclub. Drugs, alcohol, dirty money, criminals, something of every day for you. You didn't think much about your situation, you were just trying to survive.

You hated your job, but you didn't get another chance. Family that could help you? Don’t think so, your closed-minded family was so disappointed in you for a lot of things, but trying to starting to discover your sexuality was what it drove them crazy, throwing you out of your own home. You tried to get ahead and a friend offered you his help, but he spat in your face and cheating in your face too, you fell into that brothel was the worst thing could happen to you, and you just wanted to find a damned exit.

But you were under threat, your boss wanted you to work for him until your body will stop being young. Your friend made fun of you, he was looking for “employees” for his boss, and you fell straight into his trap.

Every time you went to sleep you cried, waiting for something to happen, anything that will get you out of there.

Amd a magical night, your daily request before sleep came true.

That night you worked like any other, dancing with the neon lights and aesthetic wigs, feeling worthless. Your dancing turn was over, and as you came down from the table you observe the bodyguards very nervous.

“Shit, the clowns are coming, this gonna be a fucking mess”

Clowns? You thought What the fuck did they mean by clowns?

You looked at it yourself when they arrived.

It was the most feared crime clan in town. Everyone inside the club thought about leaving the place, but it was too late. Once the clowns came in, no one could get out anymore. Every clown was screaming, asking for attention and service immediately.

They were revolting and of course they were dangerous.

Although to be honest, you were already used to dealing with dangerous people.

They leader would be just like them? Or worst? Probably, and you didn’t want to check it out for yourself.

But the moment when you saw him walk through that door, walking gracefully and arrogantly, with one of his hands in his pocket and the other holding a cigarette, his green hair falling on his shoulders, and the clown makeup in his face.

You recognized him, that famous criminal that everyone in the city talked about, even your “coworkers” while they dressed and makeup before giving another show. You can’t catch your breath; your mind gets a twist. Everyone was afraid of him, and you were no exception. But at the same time, he attracted you from the moment you saw him.

You bite your lips, you wanted to be with him, at least that night. You really wanted so bad, but all of a sudden you got discouraged. You knew there were prettier women, with better bodies, and well, with more experience than you.

Feeling sad and looked down, you decided to get on with your business, which was to hand out the drinks. You could see the women dancing for the clowns and they weren't fools, they enjoyed the show.

You'd come to the tables with the tray full of beers, the clowns didn't even notice your presence. Your coworkes were like goddesses next to you, you were a simple angel.

But there was something strange, none of the women danced for the leader.

He was sitting, crossing his legs, resting on his elbows and interlacing his fingers. Does everyone really be so afraid of him? No one had come to him to give him a simple dance, they hadn't even offered him a drink. It even seemed that he was being forced to be there, which might perhaps be true, or maybe his men did something so good (or something so bad for others) that day, so he decided to "reward" them.

You could have done what everyone else dig, you could get on with your job, wait for the clowns to leave and everything would go back to "normal." But instead, you decided something else.

"Any drink for the Clown Prince of Crime?" You'd heard that bad men liked to be called by the nicknames that the press or the police put to them.

He, without turning his head, placed his eyes upon you, looking from head to toe.

Oh, shit. You thought. Maybe that’s wasn’t a good idea

“You're the first woman to come up to me without fear of me”

“Well, it’s part of my job be helpful to all customers” With a shy smile and lovely voice, you left a neer in his table. He kept seeing you.

“Oh, I see… I see you’re a sweet bunny” You blushed, and he notice that. With an ironic laugh, the prince clown smokes, that put a smile in your face “What’s your name, doll?

Confused, you doubted whether to tell him the truth, because tell your real name to the clients are totally forbidden in the “job”.

“Oh, it’s belladonna” You responded, hoping that would satisfy his curiosity. But you knew better than anyone that when a "client" was infatuated with one of the girls, he was going to do his best to have that girl for him.

“Belladonna, like the poison flower? Pretty, really pretty nickname, but I want to know your real name”

And to be honest, you wanted the clown to be infatuated with you that night.

“y/n…” You whispered. The arrogant clown started playing with the purple hairs that stroked your arms.

“y/n, hmm… Nice hair, beauty color”

“It’s a wig, but thank you”

“I know darling…” Stopping playing with the lock of fake hair, he saw you again, with a disturbingly attractive look “You know who I am?”

He expected an answer, and you were afraid to answer it correctly.

But why did he do that? What did he win for that?

“You’re the Joker… Right?”

A huge laugh was heard in the place, the bodyguards noticed, they thought you’d be fucked. And maybe they were right, but not in the way they thought it would happen.

“Smart girl, smart girl… Let’s go to one of the rooms, I want to… Talk more with you…”

His devilish smile bewitched you.

Yes! You going to pass the night with him. You’d finally spend the night with someone you really wanted.

Taking his hand, you two walked to one of the luxurious rooms, and you noticed how some clowns turned around surprised, it seemed unusual for the clown prince to ask to be with some harlot.

Once inside, you threw Joker into bed, and you were about to undress.

“Hey, stop”

Suddenly you stopped, confused.

“Huh?”

“I said I want to talk with you, I don’t want to fuck you”

Blushing, you felt so silly, so embarrassed, at least the short dress hadn’t fallen to the floor.

When he noticed your shame, he started laughing again.Was he making fun of you? Maybe he had de right to humiliated you.

Putting the straps back on, you put your hands in your back, looking at the floor.

“You’re not a woman of this place”

“W-what?”

You asked more confused, Joker was just watching you, watching how you behave when you were around him.

“Any other whore would have insulted me and said “Don’t waste my time” and left me alone here. You act only like a confused and scared girl. You don’t belong here, y/n, you don’t belong here”

His deep voice made you tremble.

Maybe he was right, but he didn’t know the fact that it was the first time you wanted to be with a man in a long time, and he was the lucky one.

“You’re not here cause you want to, or am I wrong?”

You didn’t have the courage to answer him with the truth, but surely your face ratted you out.

You found out for his next question.

“C’mon, tell me y/n, what kind of woman like you doing in a place like this?”

He crossed his legs again, ready to listen you.

You weren’t sure about that, why he wants you hear that from you?

“I-I didn’t really have many options after my family kicked me out of my house. A friend told me about being a waitress, but was a lie… And I-I got caught with more lies and now… I’m here”

It was so embarrassing that you didn’t even want to see him. He’d probably make fun of you.

He would take his cigarette in his fingers, smoking it, as he listened to your sad story.

“What kind of friends you have, it hurts more his stabbing that one of an enemy” Joker threw his cigarette to the floor and crushed it with his shoe. He came up to you, taking off your wig, caressing your hair and smelling it. That caused sensations in you.

He came to your ear and spoke.

“y/n, my name it’s Arthur, and from now you’ll come with me”

“What? But my boss gonna kill m—"

“If he dares touch you, I’ll break his damn face, by the way, is your friend male or female? It’s working here?”

With that question you knew that nothing good was coming. But anyway, you wanted to get out of there.

“It’s a man, it’s the bartender”

“Hmmm... Follow me”

You two left the room, taking you with his left hand. With his right hand he looked for something in his pockets.

“The party is over!” Joker screamed, the clowns stopped and got up, leaving the dancers aside. He let you for a moment, heading to the bartender “Hey you! You fucking liar!” he pulled out his gun and fired right in his head. The dancers screamed in fear, you too, the bodyguards pointed it at him with more guns. Joker took you again, surrounding you with his arm.

“I had a problem with him, personal matters, I’m sorry about the mess” Your chest contracted, he blamed himself for you “I’m going to take her, I want her for me, and nobody here will change my mind, and if you try, you’ll end up like that asshole”

Fear for both, you were hoping they wouldn’t attacked you two.

But the truth was that no one was drawn to mess with the Joker.

You watched as everyone stared you, in fear and pity, how you trapped in the clutches of the Joker. You wanted to make fun of them, but it wasn’t the time.

Away from everyone, Joker took you with him and his clan, leaving that horrible brothel.

That magical night, after you two made love, you asked him why he pulled you out of that awful place. Thoughtful, with his makeup ruined for your kisses, he answered.

“Love at first sight, perhaps?”

You smiled to him and kissed him again. Maybe you felt love at first sight, too.

Your life took a huge turn from Joker rescued you. You felt he was going to save you from the second he confessed you his real name. Name by the way, you tattooed between your fingers. In your other hand, you had his “other” name tattooed.

Looking your tattoo between the glass of cognac, Arthur Fleck was the best thing that could have happened you in your sad life.

“Why are you dressed, y/n?”

You turned back, there he was, just with his red pants. Seeing like this I’ll turn you in.

“I was hungry, what if I had breakfast naked and any of you men came? How embarrassing that would be”

“Oh yeah? What kind of breakfast are that?” Arthur took your cigarette and started smoking. You decided to leave it to him.

“My favorite”

“Your favorite? I thought I am your favorite breakfast” Arthur took you from the waist. You saw his emeralds in his eyes, his worn makeup, being Joker and Arthur at once. How not fall in love with that man?

But what excited you more is that he was your man.

“You always are my favorite, Art” You kissed him. Arthur, with his feelings altered, he taking you to the bathroom, you two had a long and satisfying shower, he made you yours again there. Any part of the house he would make you yours.

How you loved him, and how he adored you.

When finally he let you get dressed, he would wear his crimson suit, again.

“You’re going to leave again Artie?”

“y/n, baby, I have business”

“I thought your business ended yesterday”

“Crime never rests, doll” Buttoning up his turquoise shirt, you could hear his lament in his voice, finished buttoning his yellow vest, he looked at you and took you by the cheeks “But tonight I won’t let you sleep”

“Like yesterday?”

He let out a laugh, you loved his laughs, more when are spontaneous.

“I only think in you, y/n, in your beautiful eyes, your pretty smile, you scent and how I want to fuck you every night, my doll”

That blush you. Like the first day.

Everything of Arthur freaked you, especially his madness.

“Cheeky boy” Kissed him again, you really wanted he would stay with you all day.

“I gotta go, I want you awake when I get back” Arthur put on his read coat, you helped him put it on.

“Be careful darling, I’ll wait for you for the dinner”

Within their strange relationship, moments like this warmed your hearts.

When you escaped with him, Arthur had the confidence to tell you about his past. Both were rejected, beaten and humiliated. Maybe that’s why that night he had the need to get you out of the brothel, maybe he knows from that second that he saw you for the first time that you and him were soulmates. He knew that both souls are scarred.

Those moments when you said “I love you” without telling him directly, the treasured in his memory.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if you had appeared when he was only Arthur Fleck, when Joker still did not appear.

He stopped thinking about it, was dumb. He had you by his side and it was all that matters.

Kissing his lips, Arthur left the home.

He spent the day working, as much he wanted to concentrate, he could not help thinking of your eyes, your body, all you.

And how much he wanted you.

He returned early, and noticed the door was open. Pushing it, he went into the house and felt was going to die. The room was a mess, one of your favorite books was on the floor, wet with cognac.

And a note stuck in the wall with a knife.

You knew perfectly, despite all the love you felt for Arthur, your safety remained the same as in that brothel. It could even be more dangerous.

The note was signed by Joker enemies.

The assault the last night he did it was insulting to them, and in revenge, you were kidnapped.

Continue.

#joker fanfiction #Joker 2019 fanfic #arthur fleck #Arthur fleck fanfic #Fanfiction #Write #Omg #I can't belive I do this again #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #Yess #Lana Was my Inspiration #Natalie Portman in Closer too #Actually the detail of the wig was for her #<3

25 notes · View notes

wolfandsheep200 · 5 years

Text

Chapter Three: Thieves, Black Spots, Ice Cream, and Lost Souls.

Neopolitan held out her hand palm facing upwards. Levitating a mere three inches above her hand. Was the harden spitting image of an item Cinder Fall had tasked her with acquiring. An item Cinder herself had stated as being the all important cornerstone piece nessary for allowing themselves back in the good graces of her superior. An item of immense value. Which Cinder had only referred to by name once. She had called it The Relic of Knowledge.

For Neopolitan getting her hands on the Relic hadn't been easy. In fact she had gone to some extreme lengths. Just to lay her well manicured fingers around the genuine article. If she were to list, (out of order mind you) the redundant number of obstacles placed in her path to success. She would begin her retelling of events. By drawing attention to the fact that she had to topple. Three of the best and brightest, up incoming fighters, that the Kingdoms of Vale and Atlas had to offer. Along with outwitting one individual. Which Roman would have labeled a complete unknown. Dubbing him with a personal nickname such as Wild Card. Wildcard's skills were to put it politely, not as polished as Neo had been expecting. However, to Wildcard's credit there had to be something special about the young lad. Seeing as how the Military Atlas Leader, General James Ironwood, would have personally been required to recognize the protector of an item holding such significance value, that people were willing to murder each other. Just to get their hands own it. Yes, from Neo's point of view something was off about the whole situation. Why had Ironwood allowed a novice anywhere near such an important item of interest. True the lanky farm raised youth had scored a hit on one of her illusions. Yet that alone didn't qualify him to be the one assigned to carry and protect an item of important significance, from all comers. When Neo had knocked and then entered Wildcard's personal quarters. She had expected at least to be assaulted by two plain clothes, fully trained Huntsman's. Providing personalized security detail for the item and its holder. Instead, what she got was a handful of annoying soldiers and a few mechanized assault droids. Maybe, Ironwood had reasoned that the item of intrest. Would be safe enough with the minimal levels of security inside the building. Because of the heighten levels of security Located on the buildings outer perimeter. Neo had no way of confronting Ironwood and confriming her suspicions. At least the guards stationed outside had been the capable sort. What gave Neo the advantage in sneaking past them. Was simply the fact she had been anticipating their presence. If a person knew anything about military law and Neo had become an expert. Then that person would understand how the Military was going to act. In accordance with Atlas Military doctrine. The outside of any building in which an item of specialized intrest and its assigned Guardians are to be housed. Will be discreetly guarded and observed by members of the Atlas Military. Along with at least two teams of veteran combatants rating no less than the rank of marksmen. These teams will be assigned from the specialized police unit know only as Swat.

In securing her assignment Neopolitan had fascinated herself. For just one individual hurtling over all those obstacles would have normally bordered on the impossible. What made her the exception to all things that are believed to be impossible. Besides her radiant features, was her timing. The facts didn't lie. At the same time she had needed access to the building the Relic had been housed in. The Sister City to Atlas. Know as Mantel, had been hit by an invasion of ruthless man eating monsters know as The Grim. Otherwise gaining entrance to the building without being questioned or observed in some manner. Would have been a task next to impossible. Thankfully with the Grim holding everyone's attention. All she had to do was simultaneously watch both entrances to the building. Waiting patiently until her target approached. Her target in this case being a certified Atlas special operative and veteran Huntsman Phillips Hauntance. Neo spotted Phillips walking towards the building. And knew instantly what was about to happen. Phillis had been sent to move the item and its Guardian from one location to another. It was a standard act of Kingdom etitic, to perform such a move in a crisis. All Neo had to do then was cut Phillips off at the pass. Use her abilities to Lure Phillips into a fight away from prying eyes, Attack, defeat, and dispose of Phillips before anyone could catch on that something had gone awry with Phillips's mission. Assume the Huntsman's identity. Flash Hauntance's confenscated security badge and gain entrance to the building. Later on if she ever retold this story she'd say it was as simple as pie.

Cinder Fall stood at the meeting spot waiting for her newest hired hand Neopolitan. The four foot nothing scrapper had become the newest addition to her ever growing arsenal of misfits and outcasts. Neopolitan had previously been associated with the late Crime Boss of Vale, Roman Torchwick. Irate with herself Cinder drove the toe of her high heeled combat boots into the concrete beneath her feet. She hated waiting. Waiting gave a body too much time to be alone with their thoughts. Probably the reason most police department detectives used it as an effective tactic. A detective would leave a suspect isolated in an interrogation room for hours on end before breaking up the silence and monotony with a barrage of rapid fire questions. Unfortunately for Cinder right now her consciousness was playing the role of the detective. Asking herself questions she prefer not to answer. Questions such as. How had Ruby Rose known excatly where to be? Making it possible to insert herself driectly into Our plans. Sure one could argue Ruby had seen the display of powers from somewhere inside the city and come running. Yet, Cinder couldn't believe that the girl had seen the fight, made her way across the city to the building Cinder was fighting in, gained access to said building. Made her way to the top floor and all within the matter of twelve minutes or so. Even for one with her kind of speed it just It couldn't be possible and Rose had accomplished this very feet with a Schnee in tow. How?

Cinder's one and only real weakness the girl with the Silver eyes. Who was somehow the only person she had been forbidden to harm by Salem. Cinders leader. "How had she failed again? It made no sense. How!?"

How had she let that little Demon spawn cost her everything. First the child had taken her eye. Then Her Aunt Raven had snatched away her opportunity at obtaining the Spring Maidens powers. And finally like pouring salt into a open wound. The Little Red Hooded Demon Child had robbed her of a glorious victory. Killing General Ironwoods favorite special operative, dismantling the world's first synthetic child again, and claiming the Winter Madiens powers all for herself. It was enough to drive her into doing something reckless. Hearing the noise of someone's footsteps approaching Cinder turned around. Neopolitan was standing there like a magician taking a slight bow after a performance. The multi toned girl held one hand extended away from her with the palm facing upwards and there hovering inches above her hand was the very item Cinder has sent her after. The relic of Knowledge.

"Perhaps things are starting to look up." She thought. "In any case that will be prize enough to get me integrated back into Salem's good graces." Acting swiftly to maintain the illusion of still being in control. Cinder turned and began walking towards Neopolitan in one swift motion she blew by Neo snatching the hovering Relic. Not stoping to explain herself, Cinder headed in the direction of their stolen airship. That the two women had stashed on the outskirts of town. When they arrived in Mantle.

Angry with Cinder for the lack of praise for her success. And irrated with Cinder for the ruff handling of such a delicate item. Yet somehow interested enough to desire to see what happens next. Neopolitan silently fell into step behind her new employer.

Several hours later, felling white knuckled and several centuries older. Neopolitan with Cinder Fall. Landed atop a massive flying Grim beast. Neo couldn't believe what she was bearingwitness to. An enormous estate. No a Castle just sitting atop the ginormous creature. Cinder however was acting as if flying direct into a hail storm of Man eating monster's, in order to dock with a creature that could in all likelyhood sallow them, the vessel the two women had arrived in and the factory, the ship had been produced in. Was somehow the norm and Neopolitan needed to get with the program. Neo felt overwhelmed she had never in her wildest dreams believe she'd be taking in this much information all at once. It was a little much.

"Come on." Cinder said, as she exited the ship. "And stay close to me. None of these creatures know not to harm you, yet. And we'd hate for there to be any accidents."

Cinder wouldn't have to tell Neo twice. Everywhere Neo's eyes landed there was a hundred modes of instance death tracking her every movement. Cinder was headed for the door as a broad shoulder man easily four times Neo's size stepped around the corner of the building. Blocking their path.

"Hello Cinder." His voice was low toned and soft. Neopolitan took notice as Cinder Fall straightened herself to full height.

"Hazel."

Neo, who had spent more than her fair share of time. With and around the criminals of Vale. Had absorbed through osmosis most of their worst traits and several of their bad habits. Found herself with no other choice except to notice the way in which. The muscles in Cinder Fall's only flesh and blood arm contracted and tightened. As Cinder spoke the walking pile driver's name.

Neo had picked up this perception to read body language from a tall thin sort of man named J. Farneey. Mr. Farneey who regularly rented out one of the top suites inside Junior's Night Club. Had spent several evenings stressing to Neo the importance of picking up on such human behaviors. Farneey had liked the suites provided at Junior's because of how the upstairs room's were sound proof. Which made the perfect place for Farneey to conduct his business. One night while at Junior's Neo hadn't been felling particular well. All the noise seemed to be gettin to her. So Roman had sauntered over to where Mr. Farneey had sat alone drinking and ask J. "If they could get a card game going in his sweet." J. Farneey had only to take one glance in Neopolitan's direction to see that her face and body language were off. Looking back at Roman he accurately gauged. The question Roman had been actually asking. Spinning around on his bar stool. He looked directly at Neo.

"Is that right little lady? He asked. Would you like to get out from under all this noise? Neo "Nodded her head." In response. Wondering how Mr. Farneey had known and like that a sort of friendship had spawned between them. On nights Roman was conducting his own business downstairs at Junior's Club. Neo would be upstairs catching lessons in edict. From Mr. Farneey. When not working J would sit in a dyed red, hidebound leather reclining chair for hours. Watching from behind that big one way mirror in his suite. He's eyes missed nothing. He would make a game of it taking a shot each time the parties down below made a spectacle of themselves. Pointing out all sorts of microscopic details to Neo. That until that moment, Neo had never really payed attention to before. For instance, the way that someone would sit side stool at the bar or how a younger person would hold their glass while working up the courage to approach someone. To ask for a phone number or a dance. Mr. Farneey would go on like that for hours giving Neo an inside view into his world. Explaining ever details of his interpretation of what someone was thinking. And often enough he would be immedately proven right. One time Neo had told Roman about her experience and Roman had encouraged her to spend time with Mr. Farneey saying.

"I'm glad you two are getting along so well. Old Farneey's a master in the field of human behavior. That's why I try to play cards with him every chance I get. Everytime J beats me. Yet, evertime I receive an education. Or become aware of an exploitable weakness in my personality. You should take this opportunity to learn everthing that you can from him. It will benefit you in ways you never dreamed possible. Later on"

Right now that knowledge was benefiting her much more than was possible. She now knew that Cinder, a woman who had a semblance of her own, magic powers and the ability to create weapons from glass. Felt wary and uncomfortable around this big bruiser.

"Tryian beat you back by a couple of hours." He said something about. "Taking the children and going back for Watts."

"Where's Watts?" Cinder asked.

"Currently locked up. Inside Ironwoods Jail." Hazel replied. "He allowed himself to get caught." That way we'd have a man inside of the city. That can use the confusion of the invasion to get close enough to Pietro mainframe to rewire the Pollidena girl's hardrive. Once we've manipulated her cognitive reasoning compasator. The robot should have no problem fighting for our side. After everything we've pulled off. I'm looking forward to watching Ironwood's creatively acquired toy. Turn against everything it's been programmed to protect. Just as the city's begun to place their trust in their leaders." Hazel's voice grew distance. Then added. "For Watts this act of vengeance. Against those who stole from and shunned him, will be the proverbial icing on the cake."

"Hazel." Cinder spoke suddenly, placing one hand on his arm. "Don't ever worry, I'm certain you'll avenge your sister's memory."

"Thank you Cinder, that means a lot."

Outside Cinder was all cool and calm demeanor. Internally she couldn't believe what she just heard a few hours ago. She had felt like a failure. Kicking herself for missing an opportunity to harm the little synthetic. Now she realized that she had actually been done an astronomical favor. Her comrades had figured out a way to control the animatronic child. Cinder smiled as the words came pouring out.

"Then you're going to love what I have to tell you." Reaching into her bag Cinder produced the Relic Neopolitan had acquired. Showing him their success in one hand Cinder announced their failure. The robot's our new winter Maiden. The machine has the powers and I have our first relic. Hazel's eyes lit up upon seeing the relic. "That's incredible." Now all that's left to do is for Tryian's to free Watt's and myself to murder Ironwood. His eyes lit on Neo as if seeing her for the first time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Neo cliped her parasol to her belt and began singing with her hands.

"Her name is Neopolitan." Cinder said explaining for her. "She has a little trouble speaking."

"I'm pleased to meet you." The big man said extending fourth one hand in Neo's direction. Neo uncertain in how she should react. Bodly reached out a hand of her own. Which immediately vanished inside Hazel's grasp. Swallowed whole in the firmest handshake that Neo could ever remember receiving. Was this really the way, a person working for Salem's. Was supposed to react? Shouldn't this man be upset that Cinder had brought another henchman here with no warning.

"There's coffee and refreshments inside." Hazel half heartledy gestered towards the door. Speak with Emerald and she'll see to finding you some lodgings.

Neo "Nodded her head in response and rubbing her stomach. Before Cinder and herself proceeded inside. As the two women entered through the Castle's main hall they could hear the distinctive sound of combat. The very distinctive sound of gunfire. Both women paused and listened. Somewhere inside the estate a battle was taking place. Cinder swore loudly as something Hazel said clicked into place. "Tryian had said something about taking the children and going back for Watts." If Tryian had tried to tell Mercury to do anything. Mercury would have told him. Where he could stick that tail of his and Tryian wasn't the kind of person to take sass well. Cinder had just made it aroud the first hall when she heard Mercury's voice screaming in anger. "I'm just giving you a moment to get your affairs in order. Use that time to make peace with your godess. Then I'm coming back to finish this and you.

Author's note: I hope you have enjoyed reading this free chapter. As much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Chapter Three: Thieves, Black Spots Ice Cream and Lost Souls.

This has been a Wolf and Sheep production.

#emerald sustrai #mercury black #neopolitan #cinder fall #hazel rainart

17 notes · View notes

asher-west · 4 years

Text

◦ ✧ 🌊 — intro !

⌠ CHASE STOKES, 23, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ASHER WEST! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION + DRIVER’S ED; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( windswept hair, the smell of the ocean, bruised knuckles, a lopsided grin, ripped denim ). when it’s the ( pisces )’s birthday on 03/18/1997, they always request APPLE PIE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ lily, 19, she/her, gmt ⍀

@gallagherintro

|| CONNECTIONS PAGE || PINTEREST || ABOUT || STATS || BIO ||

hey, it’s lily back again with another mess of a human being -- everyone say hi to my floridian himbo child asher! i love him a lot and i’m super excited for him to start interacting with everyone -- i binged outer banks the other day, saw chase stokes, and was like -- yep, that one please. ( i’m really not sure why i cursed myself with chase stokes bc at the moment he only has two gif packs, but wahey, i love his golden retriever face -- just be prepared for the same few gifs over and over lmao )

[ c h a r a c t e r ; ]

&. basics

full name: Asher Theodore West

nicknames: Ash, Theo

age: 23

orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: single

date of birth: March 18th, 1997

hometown: Edgewater, Florida

gender: cismale

language(s) spoken: English, Spanish

accent: central American

&. personality

five positive traits: loyal, gallant, reliable, self-sufficient, practical

five negative traits: overprotective, stubborn, undisciplined, impatient, quick-tempered

goals/desires: make a name for himself, support his family, have fun

fears: his dad, disappointing his friends/family, snakes

hobbies: surfing, driving, making people laugh

[ s t o r y ; ] ( tw: abuse)

background:

asher was the result of a teen pregnancy (his mother was 17 and his father was 18), and grew up with practically nothing in a tiny house by the beach in edgewater, florida

nearly a month after he turned five, his mother gave birth to his little sister, willow -- she was his birthday present, his mom joked, as asher received nothing else that year

unfortunately, the birth of his little sister was the last straw for his dad, a 22 year old who felt trapped by his laborious job at the docks and growing family he never asked for

his dad became violent towards asher and his mom, lashing out for any small inconvenience or mistake, though rarely physically

then one morning, asher and his mother woke up to find that his dad had disappeared with all their savings

asher’s mom was devastated and took on a job at the local diner, and his aunt cora came to help take care of him and his sister ( although ‘take care’ meant her coming over and passing out drunk on their tiny couch )

asher stepped up and started to practically raise his little sister, taking the burden of the child away from his already overworked mom

at thirteen, he started to take on odd jobs at the docks to help make money

at sixteen, his father reappeared on their doorstep with a bouquet of lilies (his mother’s favorite) and said he was sorry, and his mom welcomed him back, desperate to return to her fantasy of a perfect family

but his dad had not changed, and remained abusive, only this time it was much worse than when they were kids, and asher tried to direct his dad’s physical violence towards himself to save his mom and little sister

and when asher was 18, yet again, his dad disappeared, this time taking asher’s college savings with him

with his dream of college ruined, asher started skipping school to make more money at the docks, no longer caring about his grades

he even started to work night shifts -- but after one of the workers made a lewd comment about his thirteen year old little sister and he decked them, he lost his job

he started to become implicated in more unsavory businesses, hearing about odd jobs from the more criminal side of town -- he was a getaway driver, made deliveries of ‘goods’, and was even sent to get money from people

as this resulted in him getting beat up, he worked his ass off to train and become better at fighting and driving -- the better he was, the more money he made for his family

when he was 18, he was approached by someone from blackthorne, enticed with the promise that the assassin life would set his family up for life

his two years at blackthorne were awful, and asher became miserable, throwing himself into his classes to try and become the best he could

when it shut down and he transferred to gallagher, it was easily one of the best days of his life

now:

asher became much more at ease at gallagher, starting to enjoy his classes and the prospect of becoming a spy rather than an assassin

his big brother tendencies bleed into his normal life, so he’s protective as fuck of his friends ( and, to be honest, anyone who seems like they need protecting )

he’s a certified dumbass ( he grew up in florida, for chrissakes ) and will get in a fistfight with someone twice his size if he so much as senses an injustice

he misses home like crazy - the sand, the sea air, the heat

he just really wants to do well, so he honestly tries his best in every single one of his classes

that being said, he’s a dumbass and loves to mess around ( like climbing the statue as a dare or trying to get into the forbidden rooms multiple times )

he’s easily aggravated, possibly a trait inherited from his father

also his biggest fear in life is turning out like his dad

which is why he absolutely GUZZLES respect women juice

he still flinches sometimes when people he’s close to raise their voice around him, or if someone he’s close to waves their hand too close to his head, but he tries to hide it as best as he can

since he skipped most of his classes in his last two years of highschool, he can feel a little dumb around some of the super smart people at gallagher, making him incredibly embarrassed

he’s also very touchy when it comes to money problems, due to his poor upbringing

others:

when he was a kid, before he had to worry about his dad, he got into surfing, and it became his favorite thing of all time -- he misses it loads while at gallagher

he LOVES to sleep in

loves to make people smile, and just generally likes being in a happy environment

since his mom works at a diner, he adores pies and diner food because they remind him of home

does the ‘hang loose’ sign with his hand way too often -- it started off as a joke when people learnt that he surfs, but now it’s engrained in him

his hair is a floppy mess -- his dad used to have super short hair, and asher thinks he looks a little too much like his dad with short hair, so the hair remains long.

almost too long, tbh, but he can just make a man bun, so he likes it

his sister makes fun of his long hair all the damn time

he’s terrible with technology -- a genuine Old Man when it comes to computers and phones, but he tries his best

he’s really good at cooking, after making most meals for his sister as a teenager

[ W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S ; ]

best friend — i need him to have a super loyal close friend he can bond with, maybe even a partner in crime?

bros — please please please give me some fellow dumbasses he can do stupid things and make bad decisions with!

romantic interests — could be past flings, or current flirtations, but he’s a charming man, and respects women, so he’s a catch and has probably charmed a few ladies around the school

exes — he despises the idea of ever hurting someone or breaking anyone’s heart, so maybe he has a few exes that he’s still good friends with? or, alternatively, for the angst, there was a bad breakup and he’s plagued by guilt.

budding romance — i’m a sap and a sucker for tropes so please give him his soulmate!

little sister — i would absolutely love for someone to play his sister - maybe she followed him to gallagher to be closer to him, or to follow in her big brother’s footsteps? i’m gonna put this up on the main but if anyone wants dibs, please message me!

anything else — like i said in calypso’s intro, give me anything and everything, please! i love having a wealth of established connections.

tl;dr — asher is a lovable, overprotective surfer dude, who grew up poor with an abusive father and a basically absent mother, and he practically raised his little sister, causing him to develop a paternal complex towards anyone he deems in need of help. he will get in a fight with anyone over any injustices, but he also just likes to hang out with friends and ~chill~!

i hope you all love him as much as i do!

#gallagher:intro #intro

9 notes · View notes

mastrmiscellaneous · 5 years

Text

Rowan, I’ll Miss you

Sorry I don’t post a lot anymore, got a lot to do in personal life, and, well, motivation is scarce. I was just struck with motivation after the new chapters though heheh

Summary: Do NOT. Touch. Charli. Rowe’s. Friends. EVER.

Charli is impulsive, and when her best friend is maliciously murdered, well, shit happens.

Word Count: 2845

-----

the four students stood in the centre of an opening in the Forbidden Forest, Rakepick in front of them, her wand pointed at Ben, with a malicious grin on her face. With one last look at Charli, a smug look from the adult to the teen, she shouted the curse.

“Avada Kedavra!”

A green stream of electric light shot from the end of her wand, right at Ben.

Charli held her breath, she heard Merula doing the same.

Charli felt a swift of breeze blow on her cheek.

Long robes were moving, flowing in front of Ben.

No, not robes…

Rowan…

No. No no nononono!!!

-----

Thud.

Rowan was on the ground. The world went silent, nothing but a high-pitched buzz. Charli could faintly hear a chuckle from Rakepick, and shuffling of leaves as she ran. Charli couldn’t see anything except Rowan, it was tunnel vision. Thick tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled to her feet, trying to run to her best friend’s side.

She barely made it two steps. She fell to her knees and crawled the last few feet, wailing, tears flowing like waterfalls, shouting, screaming, yelling for her friend. She reached out to touch Rowan’s face, but could already feel the cold radiating from their cheeks. She recoiled her hand, grasping her own wrist and biting down on her hand, trying to muffle her cries. Nothing worked.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a large, heavy hand. Ben’s hand. The boy Rowan had given their life for. The one who should be dead.

So, Charli threw her arm back and elbowed him right in the solar plexus, winding the boy, and sending him backwards. He was crying too. Charli knew why, she understood, but he was not allowed near her, he didn’t deserve to be near her.

“Charli? What was that for?” Ben mumbled, still struggling to breathe.

“Stay away from us!” Charli snapped, growling, shaking, breathing so heavily, she almost passed out.

“Rowe, calm down,” Merula warned, helping Ben up, wiping tears of her own. “I know you’re upset, but we need to get Rowan out of here.”

Charli didn’t answer. She heard some rustling in the bushes, and crouched over Rowan, scooping up their body onto her lap and pulling out her wand.

The head of houses, plus Dumbledore, ran into the clearing, wands drawn and ready to fight.

They saw the seen before them, and there were audible gasps from McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick. Snape’s hand was shaking, eyes wide. Dumbledore sighed, seeing the scene before him. He turned to Merula as McGonagall and Sprout ran to Charli and Rowan. Merula was the calmest of the three, so was the only one able to give a coherent answer. Merula explained what happened, and Dumbledore has Snape take the two teens back to the castle, and send a message to the ministry and Khannas.

McGonagall and Sprout attempted to pry Charli away from her friend, but it was impossible, Charli had an iron grip, curled over her friend. The tried force, they tried persuasion, they tried tempting, anything they could think of to make the girl let go, but nothing worked.

What could they say? A Rowe never gives in, they knew that. They couldn’t think of anything to do. So they looked up to Dumbledore, who was watching, frowning, thinking. He gestured for the women to stand to the side, and they complied. Charli felt the movement, and looked up, turned around slightly, and saw the headmaster, wand out.

“Sorry Charli.” He muttered. Charli turned back around and let out one last sob, hugging Rowan, as she heard the final words. “Stupefy.”

Charli went limp, and collapsed on top of her Rowan. That was the last time she saw their eyes.

----------

She awoke in the hospital wing the morning after, immediately sitting up and looking around. There were two other bed occupied, by Ben and Merula, who were getting checked over and healing mild injuries. Charli scowled at Ben, growling under her breath.

Where was Rowan?

She scanned the room once more. The curtains were closed around the last bed on the right side of the room. She could hear soft cries from the other side, clearly Rowan’s parents.

Now, she knew this was rude. She knew she really should have just stayed in bed and waited to be allowed to see them again. But, well, grief really does give you tunnel vision.

Charli looked at the others in the room, and back at the curtain. No one was watching her. So, she morphed into her animagus form, a jackal, and crept to under the beds and across the middle, pressed against the wall. She snook behind the curtain and looked at Rowan’s parents. Both of them had their heads on the bed, by Rowan’s sides, and crying. Charli squished against the wall and under the bed. She lay down, head on paws, and just lay there, ready to pounce if anyone disturbed them.

--------

After 10 minutes, the great, oaken doors swung open and the rest of the curse breaking squad, along with Ismelda for Merula, ran in, and towards their friends. They stayed quiet, as to be respectful, but Charli’s improved jackal hearing heard every word. Just fussing about the two, questions of the night before, crying, mourning. Things you would expect from people who had just lost a friend.

But then, Charli’s name was mentioned.

“Where’s Charli?” Barnaby asked, through sniffs.

It was then Madame Pomphrey noticed her absence, and huffed, angry, marching over to Rowan’s bed. She stopped and called out, quietly, asking if she could enter. Mr Khanna muttered an ok, and Pomphrey slid in, careful not to open the curtain too much.

“Have you seen Charli Rowe?”

Charli assumed they shook their heads. she panicked, and dashed out the way she came in, quickly and quietly, her new slender form running through the infirmary smoothly. She jumped onto a bed and morphed back into her human form. She looked at her friends. They did not look happy with that stunt.

So, she snapped.

“What?” she growled.

Instead of answering, her friends walked over to talk to her. They asked her how she felt, what happened, if she needed anything, all of the sickly mumbo jumbo that made Charli so mad.

She rose from the bed and pushed passed her friends.

“Charli, what are you doing?” Penny sniffed, a little annoyed at Charli’s attitude.

“That woman is going to die.” She snarled.

Penny jogged behind her and grabbed her arm. “You can’t kill a person, Charli, that isn’t you.”

“I never said I’d kill her.” Charli ripper her arm away from Penny’s grip. “But when I’m done with her, she’s gonna do it herself.”

And with that, Charli morphed back into her jackal form and ran off, too fast for her froends to follow. Well, she thought she was.

--------

Once Charli left the room, Talbott pushed to the front and reassured Penny. He would follow her, make sure Charli didn’t end up dead herself. He said that quietly, as Rowan’s father was emerging from behind the curtain. He winked at Penny, and transformed, shooting through the closing gap between the doors, and located Charli, following her into what ever mess she was getting herself into.

--------

Charli ran to the scene of the crime, sniffing around, searching for Rakepick’s scent. But she was struggling.

Talbott finally caught up with her, landing on the floor and morphing back, calling out to his friend and telling her to come back, see Rowan, mourn with the group. Charli shot a death glare at him with her shining amber eyes, and she went back to sniffing.

“Charli, please, this isn’t the way. Revenge does nothing!” she ignored him. “Charli, come on. There’s a funeral this afternoon. Come, for Rowan! They wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself for a pointless mission!”

Charli stopped, growled, and morphed back to human form. She stood with her back to Talbott, hands clenched and shaking, head down, breath erratic. She was trying not to explode, she needed that energy for Rakepick.

“Just leave me alone, bird boy.” She said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back after lunch. I’ve found her scent, it’s strong. Go back.” She turned to him, tears falling. “I’ll be fine.”

He sighed. “What are you doing to do?”

“Let’s just say my father taught me more than how to feel fear, but how to give it too.” She shot him a reassuring smile. It looked kind of evil though. “I should be fine. But, if I’m not,” She pulled a muggle notebook out of her pocket, along with a pen, and scribbled two notes. One to Rowan and their family, one to the school. “Do me a favour and have these read out? Wait until the end of the funeral.”

“Ok.” Talbott, sighed in defeat. “Be safe.”

“I’ll try.”

She morphed into a jackal and ran off, leaving Talbott alone, fiddling with the notes. He was scared for her.

--------

It took her three hours to run to the building Rakepick was in. it was crumbling and rotten, at least 200 years old. Disgusting, really. Charli cringed at the smell, immediately morphing back to human form and hiding behind a fallen tree. The surrounding garden was overgrown, easy to hide in as she snook into the house. She saw a shadow of the criminal in the top floor window, pacing around. Charli decided to make a move. She checked her wand placement, easy to whip out in emergency.

She shifted once more, sneaking to the gate, squeezing through a gap in the bars, and hiding in the bushes, belly on the floor, shuffling up to the door, which again had a hole in the bottom, just big enough for her to squeeze through. She snook up the stairs, alert and ready. She heard the voice of Rakepick, muttering to herself. She seemed distressed. Charli didn’t care.

Charli found herself at the door, it was cracked open. She morphed into her human form and peaked through the door. The woman was alone, her robe flung over a chair, her strong arms on show. Thank the lord, both muggle and magical. She took out her wand and gripped it tight. She was ready.

She opened the door, startling Rakepick, and stormed in, strong and fierce, an expression of pure anger on her face. Rakepick smirked when she noticed who it was.

“Hello there, Rowe. How’s Khanna?”

“Don’t you dare say their name!!” Charli shouted, furious. “You don’t have the right!”

“I guess they’re not good. I guessed.” The woman laughed, pulling out her wand. “I guess you came for revenge? Let’s just get this over with. What’s one more dead kid?”

“You’re gonna wish you never said that.” Charli smirked, feeling joy for the first time today. “musculus torquent!!”

You see, Charli’s father was not a good person. He was an auror, a corrupt one. Used his power to evade the law, use his own spells, and test them on whoever he wanted. This was his favourite. The Muscle Twisting curse. Mr Rowe created this spell to torture those he arrested without getting caught, and he enjoyed it so much, he decided to punish Charli and Jacob with it, because corruption! What it does is lock on to the ends of the tendons, and move them across the bones. Think of a Chinese burn action, but with the muscles. With every muscle in the body.

Charli swore she would never use this spell. But, well, this was a special occasion.

----------

Charli was dead in the eyes, watching as Rakepick dropped her wand, locked in place, then falling to the ground as her body failed her. She writhed in pain, screaming, tense, crying. Dying.

You could see the irregular movement under Rakepick’s skin, muscle bunching up and moving, the knots shifting around the limbs. she flung herself across the floor, on her front, side, back, side, front, knees, back, and finally, slumped onto her back.

Her breath was slow and weak, no movement in her body except the small rise and fall of her chest. Charli would have felt sorry for her, but, well. Would you?

Charli knew how long it would take for her to recover. Three days, at least, without magical intervention. So, Charli strode forward and snatched Rakepick’s wand. She leant over her old mentor’s face, smirking. “That is why you don’t touch my friends. Ever. Incarcerous.”

Rakepick was bound on the floor, tears of pain flowing down her cheeks, flinching and moaning in pain with every strong bind. Charli was feeling malicious, so gave her a strong stomp on the ribs, hearing them break under the force. Rakepick called out, but Charli shot a spell and stuffed her mouth to shut her up. Charli dragged her to the wall and sat her up, transfiguring a fallen stone slab from the fireplace into a weighted shackle, attaching it to Rakepick’s right ankle, and standing. She huffed in amusement, gazing at the pathetic form in front of her. She took out the woman’s wand, held it out in front of her, and snapped it in half, immediately pocketing it after.

“Good luck surviving the week. Goodbye, Professor.”

And with that, Charli left. She strolled down the stairs and walked away, only turning back into a jackal when the house was long in the distance.

---------

Meanwhile…

In the castle, the students were mourning their classmate. The curse breaker squad was helping set up the funeral, Penny and Ben mainly sitting with the Khannas to talk. They were all crying. Talbott kept on checking his pocket, making sure the notes were still there. Luckily, they were. He decided it was best to tell the Khannas, Penny, and Ben what happened in the forest, so he wondered over to them and did. He explained the whole situation, and Charli should be back before the end. He explained the notes, that he still didn’t know the contents of. The group nodded along, all knowing Charli’s spirit. They silently prayed she would return.

----------

She wasn’t back.

The group and Khannas were in the front rows, teachers behind them, and rest of the student body behind them. Dumbledore was at the front, holding the ceremony, told to stall for as long as he could. Rowan’s coffin was behind the headmaster, on a raised platform.

It was made out of Rowan wood. It had gold linings, with Red velvet inside, except for the lid. That had a layer of book pages. The group huffed in amusement at that, imagining Rowan’s horror if they could see that.

The stalling was over, they needed to move on in the ceremony. Charli wasn’t there. It was time for Charli’s notes. Talbott had handed them to Penny. She had a better public presence than him.

Dumbledore gestured to Penny. “I believe you have something to read out, miss Haywood?”

She nodded, and stumbled up, knees shaking and tears still falling. Her hands shook as she unfolded the first note. She cleared her voice and began to speak.

Bam!

The doors were flung open and Charli emerged. Her head was held high. She saw the coffin and shed tears. She didn’t bother wiping them away as she strode to the front, gesturing for Penny to sit down. She said nothing as she walked up to the stand and towards her friend. She held Rowan’s hand, and gave it a small squeeze. It was cold.

She sighed, letting go, and turned back to the school. “I don’t know if Dumbledore told all of you this, but Rowan Khanna, my best friend, a beloved classmate to all of us, was murdered last night by our ex-professor Patricia Rakepick, using the killing curse. She was aiming for Ben Copper, she was being a brave, cocky little prick, and she got mad. Rowan was a hero and jumped in front of him.”

The School was silent. She sensed their fear.

“Don’t worry. She won’t be hurting anyone anymore.” She took Rakepick’s wand shards out of her pocket and threw them on the ground. “That’s her wand. she was left half dead in an abandoned house, bound and gagged. She isn’t coming back, ever.”

She sighed, choking up now.

“Rowan may be gone, but they will never be forgotten.” She turned to Dumbledore. “I suggest getting a portrait done. Rowan needs the be remembered.”

He nodded at her in agreement.

“I was gonna say a bunch of other stuff, but really, I can’t. let’s just, study hard. For Rowan.”

And with that, there was silence, and Charli sat down, immediately silently crying. Listening to the rest of the funeral.

Charli may not have the best karma now, but oh well. It’s not like she’ll be in Hogwarts much longer, after what she’s done.

--------

A week later, Charli was sitting in the library, in a hidden corner, Rowan’s favourite study spot. She was whispering to the new portrait of her best friend.

At least they were still here.

#the aftermath of Rowan getting murdered #god im sad now #charli rowe #rowan khanna

14 notes · View notes

bonnie-barstow-of-flag · 4 years

Text

The Not So Lonesome Knight Part 16:

Parts 1 X, 2 X , 3 X , 4 X, 5 X , 6 X , 7 X, 8 X, 9 X 10 X, 11 X , 12 X, 13 X ,14 X, 15 X

Michael’s azure hues dazzle, vibrant in their appearance, as he contemplates the idea of Bonnie being turned into a robot. The imaginings were largely inspired by Rc3′s earlier commentary. If he tried hard enough, he could picture the wires, cords, and computer chips strung expertly together to make up her perfect body. Maybe, Rc3 wasn’t that far off? What else could account for Dr. Barstow’s expansive intelligence? Knight humorously considers, lathering the motel’s conditioner through the dark coils of his hair.

Helios and the Foundation both knew that Bonnie possessed an elite mind. Unfortunately, the one particular section of Helios that had taken interest in her happened to be corrupt with criminals. That was entirely beside the point. All Michael could do, was chalk the incident up to another time where he almost lost her. Internally, he was beginning to despise the word ‘almost’. It implied an inability to fully grasp what he so desired all-the-while, maintaining that she could still leave. If he waited too long, he could blink and she’d be gone again. This thought alone causes his eyes to dull with hints of sadness.

Kitt was right to label him a coward. A coward who is constantly hiding his true feelings behind nearly impenetrable facades, Michael thinks to himself. He could blame it on the metal implant in his head, his time working in Intelligence, or even his life-times worth of trauma, and the number of losses he suffered. Heck, Michael could honestly apply just about a trillion more excuses but he doesn’t.

He lets a torrent of cold water followed by warm, rinse over all of his features, washing away his dour line of thinking. One day, he should free himself of the tethers of fear and dread that conspired to keep him and Bonnie apart forever.

Would he ever get a better opportunity to tell her than tonight? Michael ponders as he towels himself off and re-dresses. He can’t. He won’t! There has to be a better time, a better place than a motel, and a more convenient opportunity. He didn’t even have roses to assist his effort to woo her. Casting a wistful glance in the mirror, he reminds himself just how short he would always fall on the scale of measuring up to what Bonnie deserves.

In his departure of the bathroom, he finds himself greeted by the hums of the television which, was now turned on and casting it’s ethereal glow throughout the darkened room. Michael finds himself staring at Bonnie again. He can’t help it. She looked spectacular bathed in the luminosity radiating from the tv. Every one of her features seemed infinitely softened to the point of angelic glory under it’s careless caress. Even the look of determination she sported upon her countenance melted. From his observations, Michael gathers that she was multi-tasking, the way she always did when there were too many things burdening her mind.

Michael slings his towel around his neck like a decorative scarf, though neither end meets or crosses, as he strides across the room. After several minutes of silent observation, curiosity gets the better of him. “Whattacha workin’ on there, Bons?”

Turquoise hues begrudgingly lift upwards, departing from the pages of her splayed open notebook. The pages are jammed full of fresh equations, side-notes, and scribbled addendums. Bonnie had been working on adding more when he interrupted. Michael looked as shiny as a brand new penny with his damp mop of curls. The smile that accompanies his inquiry encourages her to answer. “I was...” Bonnie starts, praying he didn’t find her too nerdy to be attractive, “working on the coding mechanisms for the Foundation. Since some of the systems have been compromised, I’m working on making security-related improvements. I can’t really do too much without the computer physically in front of me, but this will give me ideas on what to try first.” She invitingly pats the opposite side of the mattress for him to sit down.

Michael can’t help but be impressed and his eyebrows elevate as he listens to her. “Ya mean all that jibberish is the code that will protect the Foundation?” He can hardly mask the surprise in his own inquiry as he seats himself beside her.

The brunette cocks her head casually to the side, stifling a soft laugh. Her eyes can’t help but dance with light as they focus on him.“Well, it is really a prototype of the code.” She should have known, that to his untrained eye, it would be interpreted as the equivalent of a foreign language filled with indiscernible hieroglyphics. Never one to excessively flaunt her intelligence, Bonnie slid the notebook closed and placed it and her pencil on the nightstand beside the bed.

Chewing the corner of her lip briefly, she adds, “and I was watching this show. I hate to say it, but they’re doing the repairs on that truck wrong.” Her gaze flashes towards the motion on the screen. Realizing that this made her sound overly critical, she tacks on, “not even terrible modifications are done that way. It is not only a fire hazard, but it is a good way to lose mechanical control on the road when you hit anything above fifty miles-per-hour.” She would have delved further into the complicated explanation but she really didn’t want to right now. “Feel free to change the channel to something better. I really stopped watching it intently about ten minutes ago when he started to cross the wrong wires.” She confides, slumping back against the pillows behind her.

Normally, Michael would hazard a guess at where the show’s mechanic went wrong but he doesn’t want to appear dim-witted, in her eyes, should his assumption be incorrect. So he willingly lets her remark evaporate into the air around him. He follows her lead, flopping back against pillows that rested against the bed’s headboard. He gleefully takes up the remote as he makes himself comfortable beside her. “What do ya wanna watch?”

“Anything but that last show and the news,” she answers with a half scrunched up nose.

Those requests were easy enough to abide by. He settles for something that appears to be a romantic comedy. It was hard to tell for certain if that was exactly what he landed upon because the movie was half-way through. Most women loved the silly Hallmark romances, right? Where could he go wrong? However, Bonnie wasn’t just any woman, so he studies her in order to gauge her reaction to his selection. To his pleasant surprise, she not only smiles, she hands him the champagne bottle.

“We might as well enjoy it since it’s free,” Bonnie offers. The way she said it, felt lame as it steamrolls passed her lips. The statement felt duller than she intended. Bonnie wanted to say something more meaningful, more intimate but that would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? He remains forbidden fruit.

Michael doesn’t even seem to notice the lackluster capacity of her suggestion. He cheerfully opens the bottle and pours them both a glass. They were certainly responsible adults. “So, what are we toastin’ to?” After a thoughtful pause, he jokingly adds, “and please don’t say this room or Devon.”

As strange as it might sound when Bonnie passed him the bottle, she hadn’t considered the idea that there would be a toast worth giving. At least, not one that should be shared between co-workers. She runs her pointer-finger slowly across her lower-lip giving herself time to think of something. Work. It was the safest of all of their options given their present predicament. Although, in her heart, she would prefer toasting to this night together. “How about a toast to us?” She eagerly proposes, her turquoise orbs hesitantly floating over to examine him.

Michael chokes in astonishment.“To us?” He parrots. He isn’t going to lie, he really enjoys the sound of that. It leaves so many wonderful possibilities and it swung open far too many doors.

Shifting in her place, she affirms. “Yeah. To us.” A proud smile steals across her lips. Bonnie pauses to untangle her thoughts before finally clarifying, “to us making a great team and resolving this case together.”

Leaning in, he smoothly returns, “I think I can drink to that.”

Lifting her glass the brunette breathes, “here is to us getting Kent back and rescuing the Foundation.” Of course, they hadn’t resolved the case just yet but what harm could a premature celebration be?

Setting aside their empty glasses, the two FLAG agents snuggle on top of the blankets to catch the remainder of the movie. While there are heaps of pillows around them, Bonnie opts to rest her head against Michael’s nearest shoulder. Every so often, the brunette would sneak glances up at him through the tangles of her long dark lashes. He is so close. Almost too close but she doesn’t pull away and to her surprise neither does he.

“Look at them, Michael! How do they not see it?! They are so in love and they are so perfect for each other.” She dreamily exclaims, pointing in the direction of the movie.

Michael’s azure hues snapped towards the screen the very instant she pointed. He had only been half watching the movie, the rest of his attention had been on her. He chuckles a little too loudly at her remark but the sound is edged with unusual jitters. “I don’t know.” His large hand massages the back of his neck because he is well aware that he is holding back just like the unfortunate man in the fictitious premise of the movie. “You’re right, though. It is glaringly obvious that they do belong together.” Maybe, this hadn’t been the right channel selection?

“Bonnie?” He asks, her name departing his lips in an adoring sotto voce. His gaze slowly flutters back down to her.

“Yeah?” She prompts in reply, cheating and focusing half of her attention on Michael and the other half on the movie.

He angles his head downwards and to the side slightly to get a better view of her. Swallowing sharply, he knows that this wasn’t going to be easy. There was a strong likelihood that what he is about to say will have him spending the night on the floor. Yet, he feels compelled to speak. “There is somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to tell you.” Michael starts, his brow glistening with sweat as he dares to meet her gaze.

Captivated, Bonnie concentrates fully upon him and she giddily prompts.“Oh? What is it?” Without giving him much time to impart his next statement she interjects “wait. Let me guess?” Her lips twist into a jovial grin as she speculates, “you want to tell me that your shirt is too big on me? Or I wouldn’t like a pair of your shorts because it’s got that funny hole in them?” She hardly finishes her assumptions before she falls into a fit of giggling.

“Well, yes... and no.” He starts, laughing till his chest hurt. His shirt was a little big for her. Still, Bonnie was practically killing him with the mental picture of her in more than just his shirt. However, it was ridiculous to imagine her wearing any of his pants, his shorts especially. His legs were at least a foot longer than her’s. Shaking off the useless imaginings, he tries to regain control of the more serious conversation he hoped to start. “First of all, my shirt looks it’s best when you wear it, over-sized or not. It has never looked better.” He almost suggests that she keep it, but he wonders if that is taking things a bit too far and too fast. “And unless I’m missin’ my mark here, you’ve already tried on my shorts. Haven’t you?” An air of playful accusation colors his tone. What had given away the fact she had tampered with his shorts, was the fact that they were folded differently than the way he had done them and then they were left on the bathroom sink for him when he went to take his shower.

His laughter feels like the presence of sunshine, balmy and wholly welcomed. She hadn’t been expecting his compliments and as a result, her face slowly stained red. The hilarious accusation, though it was spot-on, deepened the color to a lovely shade of plum. “Okay. So, I’m a little guilty. I was afraid you’d see too much of my legs. You don’t think I’m showing too much skin. Do you?”

Lord. Who suddenly turned the room’s temperature up a hundred degrees? So this was how it felt to be a cake in the nearly 400-degree oven. Michael’s gaze swiftly sweeps up the exposed expanse of her legs. “No.” He sharply swallows the lump of lust rising in his throat. “No, I don’t think there is too much showin’...” Heaven help him if he continued to vocalize the rest of that thought! “And I really have to tell you this or I think I just might burst.” This time his statement is firmer than he actually intended. “I...” He delicately uses his free hand to sweep some of Bonnie’s straying dark strands from her eyes before tucking them back behind her ear. He leans himself nearer until his lips are scantly a breath away from her’s. He can do this. Kitt was right! The whole fear thing was plain silly!!! He just has to rip the bandage off no matter the cost. His heart fiercely bellows out for mercy with every beat. “I....”

Bonnie smiles as he tucks her hair behind her ear, a corner of her lower-lip catches between her teeth. She has a sneaking suspicion that she knows just where this conversation is going and it terrifies her so greatly, she can feel the harsh throbbing of her heart all the way up in the hollows of her ears. The brunette can sense the lingering of his eyes upon her lips and her own gaze ventures briefly to his. If ever there were a silent, touch-less exchange of a kiss, there was one now looming in the air between them.

“I think I... lov...” He starts, his voice is huskier than he desired it to be. He was about to finish that statement when Kitt interrupts with a series of beeps.

“Michael?” Kitt innocently starts.

There is a mild explosion of exasperation in Michael’s tone when he answers, “Kitt? Can it wait? I’m in the middle of somethin’ important?!” Kitt’s timing couldn’t have been any worse not even on a bad day.

The Bostonian voice that answers holds an apologetic air, “I’m sorry, Michael. It can’t. A group of vicious-looking men are headed your way armed with guns and an battery-operated saw.”

Bonnie’s eyes round as she removes her head from Michael’s shoulder. The fact that these “armed” men were headed in their direction with guns and a saw couldn’t be a coincidence. Now could it?

The warning doesn’t come a moment too soon as a little less than a minute later their door comes crashing in, deadbolt and all.

#The Not So Lonesome Knight fan fic #The Not So Lonesome Knight fanfic #The Not So Lonesome Knight part 16 #my fan fic #bonniebarstowofflag

2 notes · View notes

stories-by-rie · 5 years

Text

#3 Creature Fear

A/N: There is a short description of ugly monsters.

Ahn and Mira were waiting in front of the infirmary while Jeanne got treated inside. With interest they mustered each other and finally it was Ahn who broke the silence.

“So, you’re Jeanne’s room mate?”

“Yes.”

Ahn nodded and as she felt that Mira didn’t like to talk that much, she just looked at her phone. Though it was Mira who talked again next.

“Do you know her well? Are you friends?”

“Well, we just met today. So… But I figured I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Hm.”

“What is she like as a room mate?”

“We didn’t talk much yet.”

Ahn giggled, then shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, you don’t seem to be someone who talks a lot. That’s fine.”

“I just never know what to talk about, that’s all.”

“That’s wonderful! You and I should be friends, because I talk all the time, but I don’t actually have anything useful to say. Maybe we could compensate one another!”

“Hm.”

“I really like your glasses, by the way.”

It was too dark in the corridor, and with her brown sepia skin it was hard to see, but Mira blushed all the way to the top of her ears.

“Thanks.”

With a squeak the door opened up and Jeanne walked out again. The rings under her eyes stood out eerily in that cold light of the corridor, her hair had become somewhat greasy from that sweat, but a smile curled her lips and as she saw that the girls had waited for her, she held her hands up in mild embarrassment.

“All is fine, sorry for the spook.”

“Well, what was the matter?”

“Just an annoying headache.”

“Oh, you suffer from migraine?”

“Something like it. But let me tell you, that nurse had some amazing runes in her Collector. I mean, I know she’s educated in healing, but it was really impressive nonetheless.

They walked back together, three young women as different from each other as they could be. Maybe that was, what made them fit together so perfectly.

“We should go directly to the canteen. It’s only fifteen minutes until lunch break and I am seriously, seriously hungry”, Ahn suggested and looked towards the canteen as they reached the entrance of their dormitory.

“I’m hungry as well”, Jeanne agreed and Mira just nodded.

As they stepped outside into the autumn wind again, the beeping sound that reminded of an alarm clock sounded over the grounds. Only a few seconds later did the girls nearly run into a group of older students. Ready in their uniforms, layered dark blue leather, the school’s emblem on the chest. They walked orderly, but clearly hurried, towards a farther away building. Their presence was very heavy, their face stern and slightly worried. Curiously they looked at them until they disappeared again.

“That’s weird. If they were wearing uniforms and got called to an incident, why wouldn’t they leave the school’s grounds?”, Ahn wondered and spoke out aloud what all of them were thinking.

“Maybe it is just a test”, Jeanne said.

“Didn’t look like one for me”, Mira whispered and after a few moments of silence added “We should go and check it out.”

“Boy. Mira, so much criminal energy from you. I am shocked!” Ahn put a hand to her forehead to mime her troubles, but behind that laid an excited grin.

“Without me. If I get caught in troubles they won’t even hesitate to kick me out”, Jeanne argued and crossed her arms before her chest.

“Oh come on, it’s not like we are actually doing anything forbidden. Just a glimpse to see what they are up to? We will just say that we got lost, it’s our first day after all.”

“I have a really bad feeling about this.” But Mira and Ahn already followed the older students through the paths so it finally seemed like Jeanne had no say in this matter any more.

The building they walked to was very small and in contrast to the others that were covered in red bricks, it was simply built from cement. In a way, it looked a little like a prison. But in contrast to one, it had windows like any other building too.

They looked inside and Ahn instantly flinched back as she spotted the creature. The older students stood in a circle with other Searchers, their golden Collectors pointed at a creature. The Collector that looked like a golden sphere made out of glass, beautifully shifting its runes were the exact opposite to the creature. As big as a human child, the arms and legs much longer, no hair and dark grey, nearly green skin. With eyes like insects and four in total, they should have looked scary enough, but the sharpest teeth were something else again entirely. Their whole body was covered with blood and intestines, obviously it had just successfully attacked.

The Searchers were arguing, restricting the creature with one of their runes.

“Why is that thing inside the school? Why would they capture one?”, Mira asked and Ahn turned back to look at it again.

“Maybe it’s a special one?”

“Looks like the rest of them to me.”

“Whatever it is, I am pretty sure we’re not supposed to see it”, interrupted Jeanne, but she couldn’t look away either.

“Well, the creatures have increased recently. Attacks have become more brutal as well. Maybe they want to test out new runes on them.” Mira squinted her eyes as if she could see the runes they were turning better that way.

“Well, I didn’t know the Searcher’s School had its own research lab on it’s campus”, Ahn mumbled.

“And I didn’t know first graders were allowed to run around the school’s grounds and spy on other people.” Behind them stood a man, the badge on his chest telling them that he was one grade above them, and also a student representative.

“We are sorry, but we totally got lost. We were on our way to the canteen, actually”, Ahn said.

“Sure. It happens a lot. And you thought staring through that window would help you how?”

“Please excuse our manners. We were just so curious and walked off our path due to it. What kind of facility is that?” Jeanne’s honesty seemed to work wonders in their situation and the guy finally relaxed a little.

“It’s restricted to everyone except full Searchers. Which means you’ll have to pass the first seven exams if you want to step inside. Which also means that I can’t go inside. So I can’t answer your question. How about I walk you back to canteen?”

The girls exchanged a slight gaze and then nodded in agreement.

“Sorry”, mumbled Mira and the guy smiled.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t do something like that again. It’s better to keep to oneself whenever curiosity wants to nag at you. Keep that in mind, alright?”

They nodded in union and followed him to the canteen, right in time for lunch. Even if the situation had turned out just fine, and they hadn’t gotten in trouble at all, Jeanne could still feel the piercing eyes of him on her, even long after they had separated in the canteen.

“What is after this?”, Ahn asked, her mouth full of vegetables.

“Extra curricular activities presentation”, Jeanne answered.

“Do you already know what you want to do?”

“No.”

“And you?”, Ahn directed her question at Mira now.

“There’s a dance group, I think. I will join that one.”

“Oh! You’re a dancer?”, Ahn gasped and put her head down on one of her hands.

“Yes, I’ve been dancing ballet since I was six.”

“So admirable.” With a dreamy look, Ahn stared at Mira who got all flustered about it.

“And you? Any ideas yet?”, Jeanne wondered and Ahn fell back into her reality.

“I thought about joining the debating club. But I’ll have a look at the presentations first before I decide.”

And with that their day later ended in a way that could surely be described as somewhat normal.

~ masterlist ~

#invincible #writeblr #part three #creature fear #1300 words #tw blood mention #what do i even tag this at #*shrumms guitar* idk what will happen next

3 notes · View notes

myhauntedsalem · 5 years

Photo

The True Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the Terrible Crimes of Ed Gein

Although Leatherface may terrify in movie theatres, it was the bizarre creations of Gein’s gruesome imagination that first fixated a nation on the terrors that lie behind the most banal of small towns.

The notorious Ed Gein and his fictional counterpart Leatherface, from the horror classic Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Many see Ed Gein’s infamous crimes as waking a nation from its own innocence, even as social change was transforming 1950s America. In particular, the discovery of this farmer’s body snatching and murdering ways woke an entire nation to the darkness swirling beneath the façade of the American Dream. His practice of making keepsakes from dead bodies and from his own victims has inspired many horror films, novels, and other stories – including the landmark films Psycho and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The latter specifically embodied that same sense of dread – that something so awful could be hiding in plain sight.

To this day, Gein’s terrible legacy is a reminder that the smiling faces of friends and neighbors all too often hide an unfathomable darkness – one that may be an essential part of America itself.

Edward Theodore Gein was born on August 27, 1906, in the small farming community of Plainfield, Wisconsin. Between a slight growth over one eye and his effeminate personality, Ed was regularly bullied. He found little comfort at home, though, where his alcoholic father, George, endured verbal abuse from his mother, Augusta, for being unable to hold a job. They had moved to their 155-acre farm after selling a grocery shop in the city, but he’d had little luck in keeping work as a carpenter, tanner, or insurance salesman.

August, meanwhile, enforced a strict interpretation of Lutheran teachings and regularly read biblical verses on death and retribution to her sons. She instilled a strong fear of sexuality and drinking in her two sons, along with a belief that all women were inherently evil. Furthermore, they were forbidden from having anyone over and were often punished for even forging friendships in the first place. So, it is far from surprising that, by all accounts, Ed grew up into a reclusive young man who often laughed at jokes only he seemed to hear.

Then, on April 1, 1940, George Gein died at 66 years of age when his heart gave out. The brothers began picking up odd jobs to support the farm, and their neighbors found the two to be reliable handymen, though Ed also took to babysitting on the side. Henry, meanwhile, began dating a divorced mother of two and considered moving in with her. He began speaking ill of their abusively co-dependent mother around Ed to try to pull him from her clutches, but that likely drew a wedge between the brothers, instead.

In the midst of these changes, Henry died in a seeming tragedy – or possible early sign of Ed’s homicidal tendencies. In 1945, the two brothers were managing a brush fire on their property outside Plainfield when it got out of control, and the fire department was called in. After the flames died down, Ed reported that his brother had gone missing, though he was soon found, dead from asphyxiation. The coroner did not note anything suspicious, though he later recalled that Henry had a head trauma that could have resulted from foul play.

Augusta, meanwhile, had grown to rely on Ed, as a stroke had left her relatively immobile for several years. She remained as fanatical as ever, though, with one local story telling how she witnessed a man kill a dog but focused on the fact that he invited an unmarried woman into his house. However, she too passed away in 1945, at the age of 67, and Ed was left without friends or family. He held onto their farm but boarded up the rooms that his mother had used, including the drawing room and entire upstairs.

In time, he became more and more of a recluse, with the kitchen and single room that he used becoming more and more run-down. Left to his own devices, Ed Gein only ever left the house to do occasional work for a municipal road crew or to help with crop-threshing. After selling his brother’s land, he began relying upon a farm subsidy in 1951. At the same time, his hobbies focused on devouring books about cannibals, the Nazis’ atrocities, and various aspects of human anatomy. Soon enough, he started digging up recently-buried women who resembled his mother – dissecting them and tanning skin to experiment in taxidermy. But things changed when he started hunting the living.

On November 16, 1957, Bernice Worden, the owner of Plainfield’s hardware store, disappeared – her truck having driven out of town around 9:30 AM. After the store remained closed all day, her son, Deputy Sheriff Frank Worden, entered around 5 PM to find the register open with blood on the floor and a lone receipt for antifreeze on the counter. Recalling that Ed Gein had said he’d stop by to buy antifreeze the night before, Worden pointed out the connection, and Gein was arrested that same evening.

Upon searching his family’s farm, the authorities found much more than they had bargained for. To start, they discovered Bernice’s decapitated body hanging upside down from her wrists in the shed. She’d been shot with a .22-caliber rifle and dressed out like an animal, with her head stuffed in a burlap sack and her heart sitting in front of the stove. In further examining Gein’s home, the police also found the remains of missing tavern owner Mary Hogan, age 54, who’d disappeared in December 1954. She was in pieces, as well – her face tanned as a mask in a paper bag and her skull hidden away in a box.

But that was not the end of the gore in the Gein family home. They found skulls mounted atop his bedposts, with others made into bowls. Skin had been used to create a wastebasket and chair coverings, and Gein had fashioned clothing from the dead, as well. Police found a shoulder-to-waist corset made from a woman’s tanned torso, along with multiple face masks and leggings crafted from human leg skin. Ed had stored 9 vulva in a shoebox, including 2 from teenagers, and he kept a box of noses, a belt of nipples, a face lampshade, and a window shade drawstring made from a pair of lips. All told, the remains had come from around 15 women’s bodies.

Gein told investigators that he’d regularly entered a hypnotic state and visited local graveyards on around 40 occasions between 1947 and 52. While he could normally stop himself from grave-robbing, Ed often returned home with parts of women whom he thought resembled his mother. On those occasions, he would tan their skin to make the gruesome paraphernalia discovered in his home. He confessed to robbing 9 graves and led authorities to some to demonstrate that he’d been strong enough to do the work on his own.

At one point, Gein admitted that he’d realized he wanted to become a woman after his mother had died. To satisfy his desire, he’d started to create a woman suit and had often donned the tanned skin. During the questioning, though, Sheriff Art Schley banged Gein’s head face-first into a brick wall – claiming later to be traumatized by the man’s crimes. Schley was horrified when this made the confession inadmissible in court, and he later died of heart failure just before Gein’s trial. With no confession and no warrant to have conducted the search in the first place, the accused pled not guilty and was declared unfit for trial.

Meanwhile, the people of Plainfield who had been Gein’s neighbors tried to process his actions. For some, the horror was overwhelming, including one teenager who had asked Gein about his masks only to be told that they were relics from the Philippines, sent by a cousin during World War II. At the same time, other murders suddenly seemed connected, including the disappearance of babysitter Evelyn Hartley in 1953. With Gein’s crimes highlighted on Life and Time covers, the town and the entire country were shaken to the core.

Ed Gein was eventually tried for the murder of Bernice Worden and sentenced to life in prison. However, in a second trial, he was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sent to Central State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Waupun, Wisconsin. He was diagnosed as schizophrenic and never tried for the murder of Mary Hogan, as he would spend the rest of his life in a mental health facility either way. In 1968, Gein was sent to Mendota Mental Health Institute in Madison, where he died from lung cancer at age 77 in 1984.

Back in Plainfield, the Gein farm burned down after being auctioned off in 1958, and his car was sold to a carnival sideshow for people to gawk at. In the long run, Gein’s actions inspired a long list of fictional serial killers, too, from Psycho’s Norman Bates to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s Leatherface, and, most recently, Bloody Face in American Horror Story: Asylum. Each plays on the nightmares beneath the American dream, but none captures the true horror of Ed Gein’s mind – or the objects that he crafted from human beings.

#The True Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the Terrible Crimes of Ed Gein #Serial Killers #paranormal #ghost and hauntings

34 notes · View notes