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rocknrollbabe14 · 2 years ago

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One Last Breath (Billy Knight x Reader) Part One

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Warnings: Emotional triggers, schizophrenic behaviors, attempted suicide, depression, and anxiety. If I forgot anything, let me know.

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

@josephs-quinns

You took a deep breath, walking down the white, pristine hallway. It was a great contrast to the patients who were in this facility. Some came in looking dirty and worn down. The nurses told you it was attributed to their psychiatric issues. You hadn't been at St. Mary's long before you encountered some dangerous situations—being backed into a corner, a patient threatening to kill you. Your parents were worried about your chosen profession.

But this profession felt like your calling. You wanted to help people—get them back to their normal, their baseline.. A lot of patients came in because they were found on the street causing trouble from being out of their psych meds. Some were brought in because they threatened to kill someone. Some had a psychotic break. Some were just depressed and needed somewhere to go—some guidance. You wore your white uniform, a button-up dress with white stockings and white shoes. The whole nine yards.

You approached your next patient's room. He was a new admission. But he had spent several visits here, according to the nurses. Even reviewing his chart, you noticed he had been in and out of St. Mary's several times. Mostly because he ran out of his psych meds and felt out of control, his brother usually brought him in.

"Mr. Knight?", you spoke gently, careful on approaching patients like him.

William Knight was a young man. Not much older than you. He looked slightly disheveled when he came in. His eyes were sunk in, he had a thin frame. It was clear he didn't take care of himself.

He looked up at you. "Please, call me Billy. Just Billy. You don't work for the government or the police, do you? I know they spy on me.", he tensed up, taking his hand and hitting his face.

His paranoia was in full force. A typical sign of being schizophrenic.

You shook your head, rushing over to him and taking his hand gently. "No, no Billy. I'm a nurse assistant. I'm here to help you get better. You're in the hospital, do you remember your brother bringing you in?"

He nodded, slowly. Tears welled up in his brown eyes.

It was best to call them what they requested even if it was something ridiculous and outlandish. They taught you that in school.

"I've come to see if you need anything. Your nurse is getting your nighttime medication together.", you patted his hand, reassuringly.

The rooms in the psychiatric hospital were designed so that the patient could not hurt themselves. If patients came in and felt suicidal, they were always put on suicide precautions and had to have a sitter. His eyes focused on you before looking down. He was like a scolded puppy. Billy had schizoaffective disorder. It was the most misunderstood and misdiagnosed psychiatric disorder. He had the depressive type. There were three different types of schizoaffective disorder. You imagined he would be here for a week or longer to give his medication time to kick in and help him get back to his baseline.

"I'm fine.", he responded dryly, his voice cracking slightly.

You imagined it was him attempting to get used to his medication again. Patients were like this when they first started their medications back, almost like zombies with moments of outbursts.

"Okay, Billy. Well, if you decide you need anything, just press the red button on your remote and I'll be right in to check on you. Okay?", you grabbed his call light, showing him which button to push if he needed you.

He nodded, finally calming down. "Okay."

You gave him a soft smile, before going to leave his room, taking one last look back at him. He went back to watching television aimlessly. You walked back down the hallway, brushing your dress. This line of work was not for the weak or easily bothered. You were a nurse's assistant. Your dream was to finish your nursing degree and continue to work in the psych field. Lately, you were doing swing shifts. Some weeks you'd work the day shift, others you'd work the night shift. This rotation just happened to be the night shift.

When your parents talked to you, your mom would voice how she and your father knew this job was taking a toll on you. But they thought the job as a whole was taking a toll on you. It was winter, a few weeks until Christmas. You were scheduled to be off this year.

"Is Mr. Knight okay?", his nurse asked you, working at her computer.

"He's okay, just having some paranoia. And he prefers to be called Billy.", you sat down at the desk.

She nodded. "I'll remember that. Bless his heart he's been in and out every few months for the past few years."

At night, the patients appeared to be calmer and more contained. They had their medication, enabling them to rest better. However, every now and then, a patient would lose it, causing a big ruckus at night. You'd seen it happen a few times. You took a sip of your coffee, blinking your eyes and reminding yourself you had to stay awake.

"What usually happens?", you asked.

"He doesn't follow up with his therapist and lets his medications run out. His problem is mostly non-compliance with his meds. His brother usually finds him, in a depressive schizophrenic episode. Brings him in."

You sighed. "Does he live alone?"

His nurse nodded. "Looks like it. You'd think his brother would stay with him, knowing he's mentally ill and all."

Mentally ill. That was a term you tried to stay away from using. You didn't like it. It was very negative.

"So, what does he do?"

"He comes in, hallucinating. Paranoia. Thinks the government or someone is after him. It's quite sad, really."

You nodded again. You could only imagine how horrible it must be to feel like someone is watching you or your every move. You wanted to understand the patients better and listen to why they did what they did. What drove them to do it? The idea was to round on the patients every two hours. You rounded on Billy, he was still awake and watching television, staring at the screen.

"Are you okay, Billy?"

He nodded.

"Do you need anything?", you asked again.

He shook his head. "I'm alright."

"Okay, I'll check on you shortly."

He nodded again as you left the room.

During your next few rounds, Billy was finally asleep. You didn't disturb him, just keeping an eye on him. You knew he had to be tired, exhausted from his psych episode. Over the next few days, Billy was improving. He was going to group therapy, talking about his experiences. You often sat in on their sessions. You found it interesting to listen to patients. He was very open with his past, stating his mom had died when he was very young and he and his brother were subjected to his father's abuse. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

Somehow, Billy managed to be the damaged one. His brother seemed to live a normal life from what you could gather. He talked highly of his brother, however, it bothered you that his brother only brought him in when he was having a psych episode. His brother described him as hard to handle, "mentally fucked up in the head". You remembered seeing that specifically in his chart. You didn't know. You weren't working the night they brought Billy in. You had three days off during that time.

The group therapy session ended, and each patient left the room. Billy passed you, giving you a small smile. You returned the gesture. After group therapy, the patients had lunch. After lunch, the patients were able to participate in activities like crafts. The patients were never allowed to have scissors. A lot of patients preferred to color while listening to music, it often helped relieve stress, anger, or anxiety. Billy was the last to file out of the room, you following behind. You kept a distance from him to prevent him from feeling like you were following him.

Billy hung his head down, not meeting the glances from the other patients. He often did this, you had noticed. After spending thirty minutes in their rooms, the patients went into the dining hall for lunch. It was around time for you to be able to take your break, but you'd rather watch the patients.

"Are you gonna go eat?", Diane, one of the other nursing assists asked.

You shook your head. "Go ahead. I'll go watch the patients."

You walked into the dining hall, seeing Billy get his food and going to sit at a table by himself. He thanked the dietary staff. Billy was in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Billy had only the clothes on his back when he was admitted. They were dirty and tattered, according to the other nursing staff. You walked around the room, keeping your hands folded in front of you, so you seemed less intimidating. That's what they instructed to do. You took turns, sitting down with a few different patients. You saved Billy for last.

"Hey Billy.", you smiled, coming over to his table.

"Hi.", he finally greeted.

"Feeling better?", you asked softly.

He nodded. "But you promise no one's watching me?"

"I promise, Billy. We're just here to help you.", you smiled down at him.

He nodded.

"Can I take a sit down with you?"

He nodded again.

"Thank you for letting me join you, Billy. Is lunch good?"

He had already finished over half his plate. You wondered if he ate while he was home. He was thin but had gained four pounds since being in St. Mary's.

He nodded. "Yes."

"I'm glad to hear it."

It had been cold, with huge snow on. In the spring and summer, the patients were able to go outside.

"Big snow outside, hm?"

You were attempting to make small conversation with him, anything to keep him talking.

He nodded. "Never enjoyed the snow as a kid. I didn't get to do a lot outside. Guess it's why I enjoy nature now."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Dad could have cared less about us. Always in a drunken rage.", his face fell.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Billy. You don't have to talk about it."

He sighed. "It's just why I'm so fucked up, isn't it? Why me? And not my brother?", Billy rubbed under his nose, his tick coming back.

You put your hand on his reassuringly. "We don't know. And that's okay. You're doing the bravest thing you can—get treatment. It's very brave of you."

He hung his head. "It doesn't feel like it."

You sat there in silence with him, hoping your presence would bring him some comfort.

"You are, Billy. I promise. We will help you get straightened out, okay?"

All he could do was nod.

Over the next week, Billy seemed to return to almost normal. He had come out of his shell, beginning to open up to you and tell you about his life. You learned his dad was deceased now. Billy swore he watched his dad helped kill and bury a little girl. According to his file, this was proven to be correct. You did your best to skim over the highlights, this being one of them. There were still subtle signs he had schizophrenia, but he was doing so much better and even looked so much healthier. He had gained a total of eight pounds during his stay. It was time to discharge him back to the real world. Right before Christmas.

"Good news.", you knocked on his door.

He smiled up at you, his brown eyes finally had a sparkle in them. One that had been missing.

"I get to go home?"

You nodded, smiling. "Yes, just in time for Christmas."

You took a seat beside him.

"Now, it's very important you keep up with your medication regimen, Billy."

He nodded.

"And your therapy sessions. Okay? We don't want to see you back here so soon. We'd rather see you out on the streets."

He nodded, giving you a smile. "Thank you for everything."

"You're most welcome. Is your brother coming to pick you up?"

He shook his head, his smile fading. "I don't think so."

You knew you were wearing a confused look on your face. But you quickly removed it. "Okay."

You went on to go over his discharge papers, and the doctors at the psych facility adding a new medication to his regimen. You made sure to explain this to him, reminding him to go to the pharmacy to pick up his medications. He signed his discharge paperwork, foregoing the questions regarding if someone was watching him or would follow him. It was bittersweet to watch him leave. He gave you a small wave as he walked out the front doors. Feeling like you had accomplished something, watching him leave.

"He'll be back.", the nurse that had taken care of him spoke from behind her computer.

"I'm sorry?"

"He'll be back. He won't follow his medication regimen."

"Maybe he will.", you said, feeling hopeful.

She shook her head. "Never has. He won't start now. He needs a strong support system and he doesn't have that.", she stated matter-of-factly.

You wondered if there was anything, any resources the facility could have offered him. Was there anything you could have done differently? You wanted Billy to be successful. You barely knew him but he seemed to genuinely have a good heart. It gnawed at you for the rest of your shift. It even plagued you as you walked into your small apartment, throwing your purse down on the couch.

Over the next couple of weeks, you prepared for Christmas. You were going home to see your parents, mentally preparing to hear them trying to convince you to quit your profession and find a new one, a safer one. You were out shopping one evening, carrying your bags on your wrists. You loved Christmas shopping. You always had. It was fun to go find the people you loved gifts that they'd enjoy. You loved to give rather than receive. That's when you saw him. You stopped almost dead in your tracks, blinking as if it would clear your vision. Were you seeing what you thought you were seeing? He was jogging the streets, looking over his shoulder. He didn't make eye contact with you, straying away from the crowd, gaining odd looks from bystanders passing by on the street.

Your heart instantly sank, realizing his nurse was right. He was showing symptoms again. It was clear he hadn't followed his medication regimen.

"Sir, are you okay?", a voice asked him.

His face was scrunched in worry, you watched his hand come up to his nose, sniffling. It was his tick.

"Don't talk to me! Don't ask me questions!", he screamed, almost in a wail, his voice shaky.

You felt your eyes widen. The person quickly walked off, looking back at him in disbelief. You cleared your throat, wanting to talk to him and try to calm him down. But you were off duty and all the training in the back of your mind telling you not to. Deep down inside, you knew he'd be back at the facility soon enough. But what could happen before he arrived back at the facility? One thing about psych patients is they are unpredictable. He continued to look over his shoulders as he wandered down an alleyway. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of your sails, knowing Billy was having an episode and no one was there to help him.

Against your better judgment, your feet began moving quickly, tracing his steps. Your bags hit your torso and thighs, but you didn't care. You wanted the best for all your patients. But there was something about Billy Knight that really tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't explain it. You rounded the corner, looking down the alleyway, but there was no one there. He was already gone. You had lost him and now you had to wonder what would become of him.

Christmas day arrived. You were dressed in your best clothes--black slacks and a white sweater, preparing to go to your parent's house. The phone rang abruptly, and you rushed over to grab it. It was probably your mom wondering why you hadn't left yet.

"Y/N?"

It was your manager at St. Mary's.

"Yes? Is everything okay? Did I forget something?", you asked.

"No, no. Um, we need you to come in. Please."

"On Christmas? I had plans to visit my mom and dad."

This couldn't be happening.

"I know, it's rather bad timing but we have a situation down here and we really need your help. We can pay you time and a half plus you'll receive holiday pay."

You sighed, feeling dread come on. "I've got to call my mom and dad to cancel my plans. Then, I'll be there."

Your manager thanked you before you sat down on the couch and sighed as you eyed the pile of presents sitting underneath your tree. You slowly dialed your parent's number, already trying to mentally prepare what you were going to say. Your mom would not be happy. Her cheerful voice came on the line as you carefully began explaining that work needed you. Just as you suspected, she didn't take it well. You slid your nice clothes off, slipping back into your white uniform. You were in such a hurry, you forgot to put your hair up.

You arrived at work, your purse on your shoulders. The Christmas lights were illuminating the sleeping town of London. No one was out. You pushed open the doors, hearing commotion immediately behind the locked doors. You swiped your badge, and the door unlocked and allowed you to enter. All hands were on deck it appeared, seeing the sea of white uniforms hovering over one patient.

"Y/N, mind giving us a hand?"

You sat your purse down quickly, rushing over to see a familiar face--Billy Knight. He was lying on a stretcher, with EMS transporting him to the psychiatric facility. His wrist was bandaged up, however, you could still see that some blood was soaking through. They had him restrained, both chemically and physically.

Your heart immediately sank into your stomach. "What happened to him?"

"Billy tried to kill himself, slit his wrist with a knife. Man's just lucky he didn't nick an artery.", another nurse eyed you.

"Who found him?", you asked.

"A bystander called 911."

You nodded but immediately felt hopeless. You felt partially responsible. What if you had been able to find him that night? All these thoughts were rushing through your head. Could you have done anything to change this outcome?

Another nurse eyed you and seemed to be able to read your mind. "Hey, you can't fix him. Nobody can. He's damaged goods."

You watched as they rolled Billy over, removing most of his clothing and placing him in hospital pants, a gown, and a straight jacket before carrying him and placing him in the white padded room, where patients who were under suicide precautions went. He was sedated, barely grunting as they placed him inside the room, and closed the door. You felt tears welling in your eyes, trying to blink them away.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn character #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie imagines #eddie munson #billy knight #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader #billy strike #joseph x reader #stranger things #tom grant #tom make up #Youtube

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hateswifi · 5 years ago

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No More Second Chances: Chapter Three

So not even all hell breaking loose (cough adrichat) will stop me from posting. (Just ignore that I haven’t posted in like a week). Without further ado.

No More Second Chances

The Master: Master List

———————————-

After collecting the little she has from her locker, they meet Jon outside. “Did you call your parents to let them know?”

“Yep! Ready to go?”

“Yes,” Damian grumbles, following the energetic boy.

“So how are you two even friends? Damian you’re super grumpy and Jon is just like a ball of energy and sunshine,” Marinette asks, walking in between the boys. (Yes, somehow the sidewalk fit three people, idk just imagine it ok?)

“Our fathers’ are friends.”

“But! He’s grown to love me,” Jon taunts in a sing-song voice.

“You’re bearable,” Damian corrects. The train ride back to Metropolis was quiet, or as quiet as a ride can be with Jon. She blocked out the world and just let her thoughts fly on the page. She was brought back to reality by Jon tugging her arm.

“Woah! That’s awesome!” Jon says, looking at the drawing. It was her, well Ladybug, and Chat Noir first bumping in front of the Eiffel Tower. “Who are they?”

She slammed the sketchbook closed and looked at her phone, March 21st. “Umm not important, I have to call someone,” Marinette says, rushing in front of the boys a bit. She dials a number, one neither boys can see, before speaking in rapid French. “Adrien did you realize it’s been a year since we finished the war?”

“Um yeah earlier today Aunt Emelie took me to visit him,” Adrien responds.

“How’d that go?”

“It was rough, but in other news I convinced Aunt Emelie to let me go to college in America.”

“That’s fantastic! I was thinking about staying here as well, cause well ya know Sabine and Tom,” Marinette shrugs, opening the lobby door.

“Makes sense, by the way, watch out Aunt Emelie adores you and she heard about your parents, she may or may not be trying to get adoption papers,” Adrien chuckles.

“I’ll decline the nicest way possible,” Marinette giggles, pressing the elevator button. “Well I’m almost home, and I have a project to work on, so I’ll talk to you sometime soon, bye love you!”

“Sooooooo, who was that?” Jon asks, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

“That was Adrien,” Marinette said, stepping out of the elevator.

“Your boyfriend?” Jon asks, drawing out the words, teasingly.

“Nope, my best friend,” Marinette clarifies. Before turning to Damian to say, “I’m going to get changed, I’ll be out in a minute.” When she came back out her hair was pulled into a messy bun, she was wearing her favorite fuzzy cropped cat sweatshirt that had cat ears on the hood and the string had pom poms on the end. She was also wearing light skinny ripped jeans.

“Mari, why didn’t you just get dressed into something comfortable?” Jon asks, pulling out the juice from the fridge.

“Because, I haven’t seen a lot of the city yet so whenever we finish making progress for today, I’m going to go out for a walk,” Marinette explained, opening her backpack.

“You should be careful, this may not be Gotham, but it’s still dangerous,” Damian says, finally looking up from his phone. He would never admit it, but his face tinted a light color of pink.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve learned self defense when I was living in Paris,” Marinette said, brushing off their worries. “Ok for this project…” (i don’t take business as an elective, so imma just gonna skip it).

It was two hours when Clark and Lois walked in, they were surprised to see Damian get along with someone so well. Marinette isn’t just anyone though, she was a sunshine.

“Hey, Damian it’s nice to see you again,” Clark said, placing a hand on his back.

“Likewise, Clark,” he responded, not looking up from their work.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“No I should be getting home, father is strict about curfew,” Damian said, picking up his stuff.

“We have to talk about plans for tomorrow, so I’ll walk you outside,” Marinette said, standing. They walk in a tense silence for a moment before she starts speaking again. “So I think tomorrow we should work on question five through eight.”

“Where do you want to work?”

“It doesn’t really matter, but if you want, because we worked here today, we can work at your place,” Marinette suggests.

“That would be adequate,” Damian sighs, pressing the elevator button. “Good night, Marinette.”

“Good night, Damian,” she responds as the elevator’s doors close. She pads back to the apartament and is about to open the door when he hears Jon scream. “He blushed!”

“I literally step out for a minute, and you are all talking about my nonexistent love life,” Marinette said, crossing her arms across her chest, she was leaning up against the door frame, watching the scene unfold in front of her.

“He blushed though! Trust me that’s the closest he’s ever been to having a crush,” Jon defends.

“Doubt it, it was warm in here and he was still wearing his uniform, which may I remind you is long sleeves and pants,” Marinette said, pushing herself off the doorway. “So on a different topic, what’s for dinner?”

“We were just going to order pizza,” Lois answered. (Totally forgot that Superman is vegetarian, so like ignore that.)

“Cool, I’m going to go out for a walk before dinner if that’s fine with you,” Marinette asked, moving towards her room to grab a windbreaker.

“Yes, just take your phone with you, dinner will probably be here in twenty-ish minutes,” Clark said towards her room. She grabbed what she needed, put on her shoes, and ran out the door. She had a peaceful walk, the cool air calming her down, leaving her with her thoughts. As much as her parents’ hurt her, she couldn’t help but miss them, even if it was just a bit. She missed how everything use to be before the drama that Lila brought, but it helped her realize who actually care about her for her. Time flies when lost in her thought, apparently, because the ten minute timer, she set to make sure she would be back in time, went off. She sighs before walking back the way she came.

Dinner was filled with light chatter about the day, more getting to know you things, and an explanation about how their weekly schedule is. After dinner, Jon and Marinette work on homework with Lois watching T.V. Superman had just stopped a train from crashing. Both Lois and Jon clapped and smiled right before Superman flew off the scene. Not too long after that, Clark ran back into the apartment holding a bag of groceries. Marinette shrugged and chalked it up to them being Americans

When she finished her homework, she said goodnight, did her nightly routine before falling asleep, oblivious the chaos happening in Paris that was unleashed by Sabine and Tom.

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CLIFFHANGEEEER! but like foreshadowing for salt! and getting what they deserve

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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

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Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Returned and Reunited

December 6, 1945

Elizabeth understood the importance of privacy, especially when it came to her grown up children. But, at the same time, she knew the importance of providing comfort for those who were suffering. She didn’t intend to but while collecting Charlie’s laundry from his room, she found an old letter tossed on his desk. It was addressed to the air force base and dated almost three years earlier. She didn’t read it but the return address in the top corner was enough for her to know who it was from.

Charlie hadn’t talked about Mary since he had been home – honestly, Elizabeth almost forgot about her – but the obviously well read letter on the desk was proof that Charlie certainly hadn’t forgotten.

Evelyn was still living in her apartment in London so Charlie was the only child back at home now. It was kind of nice for him; getting a bit of extra care as he adjusted to life at home again. Daniel was incredible with him. He was so patient and gentle and calm and although Elizabeth knew Daniel was more than capable of it, it was nice to see him become more of his true self now that his family was safe.

Elizabeth loved her son and she loved that he was home but she worried about him. He was twenty-seven and had almost no sights on a life of his own yet.

“Charlie darling.”

He looked up from decorating the Christmas tree to glance at his mother’s call.

“How’s Mary?” Elizabeth asked gently.

Daniel glanced between his wife and his son as he wrapped the tinsel around the branches. Charlie bowed his head and shrugged as he set an ornament on the tree.

“We haven’t heard anything about her. Have you written her?” Elizabeth pressed on tenderly.

“No.” Charlie answered flatly. “She’s probably married by now. With a good man.”

“Whose to say unless you ask her?” Elizabeth suggested.

“Mama.” Charlie said sternly, looking up at her with hurt on his face, “I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to know.”

“Well at least tell her you’re home safe. I’m sure she would care to know.”

“Mama.” Charlie snapped. “Please, stop it.”

Elizabeth stayed quiet but her eyes lingered on the tears that were brimming behind her son’s long lashes. Daniel set a reassuring hand on her back and slunk past her to retrieve more tinsel from the box. They decorated the tree in near silence except for the quiet radio playing in the background across the parlour and Elizabeth’s mind stewed with her protective motherly instincts. She knew her son well and although he always put up a brave front, he always had been quite afraid of being vulnerable.

So Elizabeth got to work on her plan. She pulled out a piece of paper and set herself down at the desk in her room that evening, right away uncapping a pen and got to writing.

Daniel watched her for a moment as he changed into his pyjamas, “Who are you writing to so furiously at this hour?”

“Mary.” Elizabeth answered plainly.

Daniel sighed, “Lizzie.”

“Daniel.” Elizabeth said sternly and turned to face her husband. “Charlie’s miserable. He’s broken-hearted and miserable and I know he’s missing her and not knowing where she is probably just makes his hurt worse. I need to write to her.”

Daniel sighed and walked up behind her, setting a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to read what she had written. With a kiss to her cheek he stood back up and headed into bed, “Sign my name at the bottom too.”

Dear Mary,

You don’t know me by name but I realized that I must write you. I believe you had a relationship with my son, Charles, during the summer of ’41 while he was stationed at the RAF base during the war. He wrote to me about you a few times and I could tell he was head-over-heels. I know the war got in the way and you fell out on contact but I thought it was important to write to you and let you know that he’s home safe now. I am not sure if you are still at this address or moved on to another phase of your life by now but my dear Charlie is thinking about you often…he still has one of your letters and reads it every now and then. I would greatly appreciate if you could write me back (or call me on the telephone) with a reply whether you would be willing to see Charlie again or if your heart has already been claimed.

Kind regards,

Elizabeth and Daniel Seavey

Elizabeth mailed the letter the next morning before Charlie rose and she received a letter back in a matter of a few short days.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Seavey,

You cannot imagine my relief to receive your letter. I found myself crying often in fear that the worst had happened to my Charles, especially when peace was declared and months went by without any word. Oh goodness, I can hardly figure out what to write to you I am just so happy! I would love nothing more than to see Charlie again…that is, if he is willing to see me too. My heart has only belonged to him and there has not been and will never be another man for me! I would love to visit him as a Christmas surprise if that is alright with you. Please let me know a date and I will disregard my entire schedule for him!

With kindest, most thankful regards,

Mary Thompson, ATA

December 20, 1945

Elizabeth always cleaned religiously before holidays so her sudden intent on keeping everything spotless didn’t rise question in Charlie too much. Five days before Christmas, Elizabeth was in a mad rush to clean the house from vacuuming and mopping to dusting thrice a day. Maybe it was a tad excessive but Charlie didn’t mind a bit. He got himself dressed in his room, lingering on the photographs of him and Richard over the years still taped and fading on his bedroom wall as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his trousers.

He sighed lightly and bent down slightly to see himself in the slightly too-short mirror on the wall to fix his hair and check his teeth. His mother told his to dress nicely for whatever reason and he knew better than to argue. The bottle of cologne on his dresser was lifted and spritzed once on his collar before he set it back down on the wood beside the framed picture of his late uncle and the one of his late brother.

There was a knock at the door and Charlie didn’t think much of it. He figured it was the Besson’s coming over for another visit or a neighbour coming to ask to borrow some sugar. His parents’ footsteps could be heard through the floor downstairs followed by a bit of muffled chatter. Charlie made sure the gold ring was secure on his right pinky and took a second glance at his hair.

“Charles Christian!” Daniel called from downstairs, “You have a visitor!”

Charlie, filled with confusion, opened his bedroom door and started down the stairs slowly as he straightened his collar for whatever guest was awaiting him. He hadn’t expected company.

When he reached the bottom stair and glanced over to the foyer where his parents were, he stopped dead. He took a moment to register who he was looking at, his next breath shaking in his chest as he stared at her for a moment. She was just as beautiful as he remembered although slightly older; her shoulder length brown hair tamed to perfection under her hat and light snow dotted her matching coat and melted softly in her curls. She dressed so poshly outside of her usual ATA uniform and Charlie felt tears brimming in his eyes.

“How’s my favourite pilot?” Mary asked as smoothly as she could, although her voice was trembling slightly behind her own forming tears.

Charlie took the final step onto the main floor and walked slowly and shyly over to her like he couldn’t believe who he was looking at. Elizabeth slunk around to Daniel’s side so they could step slightly out of the way of the reunited lovers and the parents watched with excited smiles as their son approached her.

He stopped just in front of her, memories washing over him in strong waves that had him choking out a sob – from her picture in his plane to his brother’s teasing over how infatuated he was with her. It had been years but it felt like forever.

Mary’s hand was cold from the winter air when she set her palm against her cheek but Charlie just leaned right into her small hand. He reached to wrap his fingers gently around her wrist and her thumb ran over his flushed skin. His other hand slid around the back of her neck and slowly but desperately pulled her lips to his. She could feel the passion behind his kiss, the yearning, the fear, the grief, the heartbreak, the relief, and everything in between. So much so that she threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him impossibly closer.

Charlie’s hands gripped the back of her coat, finding their familiar harmony of their lips for a few more seconds before he was finally pulling back to breathe, pushing kisses over her cheek as he wrapped her up in his arms. He just breathed her in for a moment; her floral perfume and the smell of the snow unlike the usual scent of fuel and metal and leather that encompassed them on the air base. Despite the slight difference, he let himself melt into her arms and let a peaceful sigh fall against her neck as she held him.

“Charlie.” Elizabeth called gently. “Are you going to introduce us?”

Charlie smiled shyly, the same tight lipped smile that his father and his uncle had, and he dusted a kiss to Mary’s cheek before pressing his face against hers bashfully as he finally introduced her to his parents, “Mum, Dad…this is my Mary.”

Passchendaele Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @jonahlovescoffee @bessonsbxtch @midnightpsychic @sbrewer21

Follow the link in my bio to be added to my taglist!

#✉#the otp #daniel seavey #why dont we

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krispydefendorpolice · 5 years ago

Text

The Demon’s Bride (6)

Yikes, anyone else having trouble posting new posts on tumblr. When I went to write this up literally the only option I got was a text post. Did formatting change on the apps? *shrugs* oh well. Time for the next chapter.

So it’s been a long while since my last update. Work drags me down and I didn’t have the energy to commit to writing the ideas running through my head. (Look forward to more of my Drabble ficlets because of that.).

A couple weeks (?) ago I asked for a vote and I got 2 out of 2 for Demon’s Bride so here’s the next chapter. Enjoy.

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

————————————

After Damian dropped Marinette off at the hotel she went inside and found a few of her classmates waiting in the lobby.

Nino was the first to see her. Standing up he called out, “Dude. Where have you been? We were so worried.”

Nino, Alix, Kim, and Max crowded around her as she entered.

“Sorry guys. My phone died on me,” holding up the dead phone for them to see, “so I couldn’t call for a ride or taxi. And I thought the hotel was reasonably close enough to walk. Forgot to account for Gotham’s Crime life though.” She added tapping her head with a closed fist to indicate the knucklehead move.

“You’re alright?” Nino asked.

Marinette hearing the unvoiced question nodded. “Fine. I had the criminal handled before the Bat and his brood showed up. Them actually getting there was what took so long.”

“Here Max,” Marinette said taking the glasses from her purse and handing them to the young man. “I also gave him some sugar cubes before and after our trip so don’t let him guilt you into believing I’m starving him either.”

“He tries it every time,” Max said replacing his frames with the pair Marinette handed him. A small ball of light briefly manifested before the small horse Kwamii hid in Max’s open bag.

“So what happened with Bustier after I left,” Marinette asked Nino as the group headed towards the elevator to take them to their rooms. Alix, Kim and Max fell back a step to follow behind the other two.

Nino pressed the call button before answering. “We told her you were still in the restroom before leaving the restaurant and again after boarding we told her you weren’t on. Markov even did a video recording of her reactions as well as a sweep of the bus to prove you weren’t on when we told her.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. Ms. Bustier had ignored all that from her friends and left her behind anyways?

“She’s even worse here than at home.” Alix voiced what they were all thinking.

“Did you...?” Marinette trailed off.

“Report filled out, sent in and as of five minutes ago reviewed and filed by the Commandant. He’s waiting for a follow up from you.”

Alix and Marinette got off when the elevator stopped. The boys would go to the floor above where their rooms were. “Thanks guys. I’ll do my check in before going to sleep and let you guys know about any changes in the morning. Do we still have a free day?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it changing but Juleka sent a text a few minutes ago that she thinks something might come up for the fashion district based on what she’s heard so far?” Max said.

Marinette whined to herself, “She would choose something I like to try and spoil. Night guys.”

The doors closed on their calls while Marinette and Alix walked to their shared room and opened the door.

Marinette used the washroom to shower first since she had just been fighting an Akuma. While Alix was taking her turn, Marinette opened her now charged phone and started a video call.

“Bonjour Commandant,” she greeted when the call was answered and an older Chinese man appeared on the screen.

“Bonjour Marinette. The team and I expected your check in almost an hour ago and the others on the trip with you hadn’t heard anything.”

Marinette shrugged one shoulder. “My phones battery was already low and Voyage travel tends to be a coin toss on how it affects electronics. When I got back to the restaurant my phone was dead and I had to walk to the hotel.”

“And it took over an hour to get there?”

“Well no,” Marinette admitted. “I ran into one of Gotham’s criminals and had that handled easily,” she said before the Commandant interrupted, “but the Bat-clan showed up and... I ran into an old friend and we took a moment to catch up.”

“You ran into an old friend? After the Bats showed up? This friend wouldn’t happen to be a Bat would they?”

Marinette shrugged but smiled so that the man knew he got it right.

“And you won’t say anything because it could compromise identities.” The Commandant finished for her. “Alright, does it change any plans for this week?”

Marinette paused thoughtfully reviewing what would be happening that week. “I don’t think so. I know him but he doesn’t know about me being LadyBug.”

She smiled brightly, “actually I would love to keep that a secret for now and surprise him with it at the meeting. Oh! Can we get Viperion, Ryuko and Abeille to come to the meeting as well? We can get them to come across using Voyage so travel won’t be a problem.”

“Do they know this old friend?”

“Yes. Well, Viperion, Ryuko and Jiuweihu do.”

“Ah,” he said with understanding at the mention of the others who knew the friend and sighed. “How likely am I to have a revolt if I don’t somehow get this approved?”

Marinette smiled mischievously. “Oh very likely. Viperion will let you know from the start what he thinks about missing this chance but it will be Ryuko you will need to watch out for.”

The Commandant shook his head tiredly. He remembered the last time Ryuko had objected to something and the entire team had faced her wrath over it. “I will do what I can. As for the trip, I would like the team to stay together in pairs or as a small group on the class free days and with the class on the group days. There’s no need to push even your luck in Gotham with the way that the teacher is likely to neglect to take your safety into consideration.”

“Bien Sûr. We’ll be on our best behaviors,” she gave him a cheeky grin and saluted before ending the call.

“You know, if anyone had told me you were like this when we first met all those years ago I would have called them crazy,” Alix commented as she left the bathroom, towel drying her wet hair.

“That’s because you only knew Marinette. Mari is only for family and the team,” Marinette explained as she sat on her bed and pulled out her sketchbook.

Alix tossed the damp towel in the bathroom before pulling out a couple cookies and some carrots from the hotels mini fridge they had stocked that afternoon when they first arrived.

After placing them on the rooms small table two small Kwamii’s flew from their hiding places, one from Marinette’s purse and one from the suitcases in the corner where the girls kept their things.

“So what did the Commandant have to say,” Alix asked as she jumped onto her bed.

“He wants us to stay in the group as much as possible during the trip. Pairs at the very least. And he told me to stay out of trouble. Not in those exact words but the intent was clear.”

“Now why he would think that LadyBug would need orders to stay out of trouble is beyond me,” Alix joked.

Marinette glared at her before turning it on the Kwamii’s where they laughed on the table.

“No respect. I get no respect,” she mumbled humorously before turning the book to Alix. “What do you think?”

“It looks like a traffic light,” Alix observed the costume. “I’ve never seen you use that color combination together.”

“It’s the characteristic colors of the Robin uniform. I don’t know why they’ve chosen those colors but every Robin used them in some variation.” Marinette went back to sketching and adding tweaks to the costume.

“So Robin’s the childhood friend?” Alix asked.

Marinette froze.

She didn’t hear Alix call her name two more times. It wasn’t until a hand in her face had her reacting (and boy would she have to apologize for nearly dislocating Alex’s shoulder for her concern).

“Ouch,” Alix mumbled rubbing her arm. “You could have just said I need to keep it quiet,” she added as she stood up from the bed.

“Sorry Alix,” Marinette apologized.

“Nah, this’s my fault,” she gestured to her arm, “I know better than to startle you or the others on Alpha team. You okay?” She asked. “You kind of spaced out on me.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said. She laughed at Alix’s disbelieving look. She cuddled Tikki and Fluff who had come to her after finishing their foods. “I will be fine,” she corrected herself. “I’m just so used to keeping identities a secret and I’m not sure how Da... How my friend would feel if his identity was outed without his knowledge. We sort of have plans to see each other during the class free days so you’ll probably see him without the mask.”

“I can get that,” Alix said remembering when the team was in the dark about each other’s identities just a year ago. It had been an added stress on top of fighting for them to worry about protecting a secret with no end in sight. If given a choice she would definitely choose what they had today over what they’d had before. She mimed zipping her lips and locking it with an imaginary key that she threw over her shoulder.

“So he’s a hero too?”

Marinette shrugged. “I think so of course but most of the research I did before the trip indicated that the city and the heroes’ themselves mostly consider them to be vigilantes though.”

“Is there a difference?” Alix asked.

Shrugging, Marinette closed her notebook and turned off the light. “Isn’t it an “In the eyes of the beholder” kind of thing. A “your hero is my villian and my vigilante is your hero” thing, at times.”

“Do you trust him?” Alix asked.

“With my life,” Marinette answered immediately. “I’m not gonna keep LadyBug a secret forever. Just timing the reveal for the best effect,” she pointed out.

Alix snorted, “please let me be there when you do. I want to see the explosion on Commandant’s face.”

Marinette laughed with Alix as night finally settled down around them.

————————————

No recommendations this week but go check out @bluerosette23 Daminette masterlists if this interested you.

@mellownieice @mystery-5-5 @indecisive-mess-named-me You three sent me votes or a really sweet ask that I appreciate so you get the first tags this post.

@mindfulmagics @ozmav @bluerosette23 @vivilakitty @actualaster @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @inevitableenquere @zebrabaker @poshplumcot @tog84 @luciferge @sonif50 @ravennightingaleandavatempus @northernbluetongue @actual-human-disaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @aarushi-03 @g-arya @moonyloonyx @fertileleaf @shreky-boi @thanks-captain-obvious @panda3506 @hinata3487 @thequestionablyhuman @dontgiveaflyinflip @dast218 @chocolatecatstheron @asianfrustration13 @slytherinsheashire @weird-pale-blonde-person @yin-390 @mycupisbroken @vixen-uchiha @kuroko26 @autisticlinx @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mariae2900 @zalladane @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @tbehartoo @novicevoice @violatiger8 @thebookish3lf @fandomkitty8 @redscarlet95 @gingersnapnoir @chewbaccaatemythoughts

That’s the end of the tag list folks. I will tag you first if you send me an ask or vote for the next weeks update. What will it be?

Demon’s Bride or Miraculous Future?

#daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #Betrothed AU #The Demon’s Bride #DLDR #dead dove don’t eat

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temperancejones · 4 years ago

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Some Kind of Curse- Chapter One

Upon Steve and Kris’ arrival at their base about half an hour later, they were both dragged to the medic, where they also got grilled by their Captain waiting for them there, who was red with anger that Anton Hesse was killed on the extraction mission. Steve and Kris tried to explain what had happened, and how their mission had somehow been compromised, but the Captain wouldn’t have any of it. Of course, they were immediately taken off the mission, as they were now emotionally compromised and a conflict of interest due to both of them and their father getting dragged into this mess and ordered to return to O’ahu for a family emergency. They were forbidden to investigate this case further and were told that if they were caught impeding on the Navy’s investigation and mission, they would be facing a court martial. And then, the Captain left as soon as he got there, mumbling something about how he was sorry for their loss.

Still unable to comprehend everything that had just happened, Steve and Kris let the medics look them over and patch up Kris’ bullet wound. Thankfully, the bullet ricocheted off of Kris’ TAC vest and lodged itself in her deltoid muscle. The bullet was easily removed, and by the looks of it, the wound should heal on its own in a few weeks, but unfortunately for her, her left arm is put in a sling and she is given direct orders to keep it as still as possible to allow the muscle to heal properly. Once the medics give them both approval to leave, they are escorted out of the med bay, where they are immediately taken to their quarters and given ten minutes to gather their things. Steve quickly fills both of their duffle bags, thanks to Kris only having one working arm right now. The twins are then quickly escorted to the Humvees and brought to the nearest airbase, where a cargo plane is being held for them to board so they can get home as soon as possible.

Steve and Kris keep their heads down and find themselves unable to find the right words to say to each other during their entire trip back home, so they were silent for pretty much the entire fifteen-hour trip. The trip took two separate planes to finally get them to Hickam airbase on the beautiful, sunny island of O’ahu, which was once their home many years ago. If the McGarretts’ visit back home for the first time in almost seventeen years was under better circumstances, they would almost feel relieved to be back on the island. But, of course, what they were feeling was quite the opposite- their visit to the island was to bury their father, and then take care of all of the legal issues before getting shipped back out overseas for their next mission, as if nothing had ever happened. Being ordered off the mission that resulted in their father’s death was definitely a low blow to both Steve and Kris, but they both knew that they couldn’t risk their careers for some petty revenge on Victor Hesse. So, like the good little soldiers they are, they will do what needs to be done here, and then get buried in another op as always. Hell, maybe they will even switch gears and go back to intelligence or something to make sure that their brains are constantly occupied so they can forget that they don’t have parents anymore.

Just as the plane touches down to the tarmac of the Air Force base and the pilot takes over control of the plane, the co-pilot turns around and looks at Kris. “Ma’am, I have an incoming call from the Governor of Hawaii. If you put on the spare headset, I will patch you in.” he says to her, gesturing to the headset dangling above Kris’ head. She tries to put on the headset herself, but with one hand, she has no luck. Steve reaches over and puts it on his sister’s head, chuckling a little bit at her frustration. Feeling a little angry at her inability to do such a simple task, Kris nods to the co-pilot to connect her to the call while the plane taxis around the airstrip. A woman’s voice patches through the headset, which Kris assumes is the governor. She hasn’t been keeping track of who is in office at home anymore, as her and Steve have been away for far too long to care at this point.

“Commander, this is Governor Pat Jameson. I just wanted to start by saying I’m so sorry for your loss.” The Governor says to Kris, which makes her heart speed up a little bit- she forgot how painful it was to hear people say I’m sorry for your loss to her. Its something she has detested since the day her mother died. Were people truly sorry for her loss? Or did they just want to make sure that Kris, Steve and their little sister Mary, who was only ten at the time of their mothers death, were getting enough attention, as all eyes were on the honorable John McGarrett, who was simply inconsolable… more than words could ever describe. Her father’s pained cry from the front door was a sound that was forever ingrained into Kris’ brain, and is something that will haunt her forever, along with the singular gunshot that murdered her father less than twenty-four hours ago.

Snapping out of her dreadful thoughts, Kris sits upright in her seat, putting on her Commander façade once again. She clears her throat and speaks into the microphone. “Thank you, Ma’am. What may I do for you?”

“I’d like to talk with you and your brother in person, can we meet at Pearl Harbour in two hours? That will be at about 1300.” Governor Jameson requests hopefully.

Kris takes a moment to wonder why on earth the Governor of Hawaii would want to talk in person with both her and Steve, especially when they have way too much stuff to do in preparation for their father’s funeral. But, A conversation with the governor should be relatively harmless, so Kris agrees to it, and ends the call with the governor. Kris immediately tells Steve about their meeting with the governor, which makes him scowl a little bit, silently wondering why the governor would want to see them as well.

The plane stops shortly after the call ends, and they quickly disembark, where they are met with Captain Twill, a short, stocky man who welcomes them home and shows them to their loaner car for their visit to the island, making sure that they can get around and take care of everything they need to. Thanking the Captain, Steve and Kris hop into the black SUV and head to Arizona hall, which is the lodging hotel for all Navy, Military and Air Force members on Hawaii. It takes them about half an hour to get to the hotel and get checked in, which leaves them an hour and a half to prepare for their meeting with the Governor.

Still not talking much, Kris and Steve take turns showering to wash off the grime on them from their mission in Korea and look presentable for the Governor. When Steve gets out of the shower, Kris is already putting on her dress blues, thankful that they didn’t get wrinkled from her abrupt trip home with them. Steve, who is already in his dress pants and has his shirt on, just unbuttoned, notices that Kris is struggling with the buttons, as they are impossible to do up one-handed, and chuckles at her from the door of the bathroom.

“Need a hand?” Steve asks, smirking a little bit.

“What I really need is a stiff drink, but yes, a hand please. I’m not going to meet the governor with a uniform that is half buttoned up.” Kris sighs. Steve does up his shirt and walks over to his sister, and does hers up for her, and fixes her collar. Kris thanks him, and sits down on the edge of the bed, sighing.

Steve sits next to her, fixing his own collar now, making sure it’s perfect. “This really isn’t how I wanted to come home for the first time since we left, y’know?” Kris confesses. Steve nods and rubs his eyes. “you and me both. I just can’t believe we never got to see him-“, Steve starts to say, but his voice breaks, and he chokes back a sob. He’s right, though. They haven’t really been on good terms with their father since he shipped them away to private school and the Naval Academy on the mainland when they were sixteen. Kris always wondered why their father had pushed all of his children away so much after the death of their mother- but that’s something she might never know now. Kris leans into her brother’s side and puts her head on his shoulder in a silent form of comfort. Steve wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in tighter for a side hug. He places a kiss on the top of her head- something that he hasn’t done in years, as Kris hates it when they show emotion to one another around fellow troops or even on base, since people assume things about them, which piss her off to no extent. Kris has spent most of her career trying to stay out of Steve’s shadow, as most people in the Navy and Military think it’s outrageous to have a female such as herself on the front lines with the men, even though she is more qualified and trained than most of the soldiers she works with. Kris broke a lot of barriers during her career in the Navy- she became the United States’ first female SEAL and was one of the first women to be on the front lines in general while the States troops were stationed in the middle east. So, with a reputation like that, she definitely doesn’t want people to think that the only reason she got accepted to all of those high-profile posts and ops was because of her brother, who was on them as well. Kris worked just as hard in training to walk alongside Steve during her career so far.

The twins sit like that for a few minutes, just allowing each other to silently mourn their father, a man they felt like they barely knew, but still loved him very much, despite not seeing him for half of their lives. Steve is the first one to break their silence again.

“So, what needs to be done for the funeral?” He asks, which immediately ruins Kris’ rare calm state of mind she had maintained from hugging her brother.

Kris lets out a loud exhale and rubs her face, now sitting upright again, and off of Steve. “A lot. We need to call Duke and get an update on everything. I’m assuming HPD is investigating this as a homicide, which is going to fuck us over, probably. But we need to make funeral arrangements and try to get him buried either at punchbowl or with mom and grandma. Duke should be able to help, I think. Hopefully we can push the funeral to tomorrow and get it over with.” Kris begins to ramble, suddenly remembering everything that she helped dad with for her mother’s funeral all those years ago.

Steve sighs. “Okay, so after we meet the Governor, we can swing by HPD and talk to Duke and get this shit over with… which leads me to my next question… what do you want to do about Hesse?” Steve explains, and then asks his sister seriously, with a little glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Kris furrows her brows and looks back at Steve, trying to read his face to understand what he means, hoping that he isn’t talking about risking his career with this. They both know that if they go down this road, there will be no turning back; they will either get away with disobeying a direct order or get court martialed for doing such an absurd thing, and then get dishonorably discharged. “Please don’t tell me that you’re seriously thinking about doing this, are you?” Kris asks, already knowing the answer. Steve is going to be a stubborn McGarrett about finding Hesse- of course he’s thinking about doing this.

Steve nods. “I was thinking about it the entire trip home, and in the shower. Some things just don’t add up to me. Dad called us Tiger and Champ. I think it means something, but I don’t know what. I want to find out, and I want Hesse to pay for what he did. That son of a bitch needs to go down.” Steve explains, which immediately makes Kris’ mind race.

Kris thinks about it for a few moments, wondering why these oddities never occurred to her; She was probably too busy being anxious about the upcoming funeral for her father. She has always hated funerals- they offered no closure whatsoever and were very upsetting to attend. “Tiger and Champ… Champ as in that old toolbox we got him for Father’s Day when we were little to work on the Marquis? And that stupid tiger I made him in grade six art class?” Kris speculates, just throwing her first thoughts out there to Steve.

“The one he kept on his desk, in the den, right? And the toolbox! Yes, it was in the garage, but I don’t ever remember grabbing tools from it?” Steve then adds on, snapping his fingers for dramatic effect, which ignites a spark of sheer curiosity between the twins. Now they both know that they have to follow up on these breadcrumbs their father left for them, even if it means their careers in the Navy will end because of it. They need the closure and answers as to why anyone, especially Hesse, would target an innocent man and murder him in cold blood. Damn it, Kris thinks to herself. This is going to change a lot of things in their lives if they go through with the investigation on the toolbox and the tiger, but she genuinely believes that it will be completely worth it.

Kris looks at the wall and nods, trying to anticipate everything that’s going to happen in the next few days. Kris can’t help but think that if her and Steve hadn’t been hunting down the Hesse brothers, then maybe, just maybe, their father might still be alive right now, and they could still have a longer career in the Navy. But everything happens for a reason, Kris decides, and says “fuck it, let’s get this bastard”, to Steve, which make him grin at his sister.

For the next hour, Steve and Kris grab a bite to eat at the restaurant connected to their hotel, and head over to pearl harbour, where they wait to meet with Governor Jameson. They arrive half an hour early, and decide to head to the edge of the pier to pay respects to their grandfather, as well as the other lives lost at the pearl harbour attack, who are still entombed in the ocean, only a few hundred feet away from where Steve and Kris stand now. Knowing that their grandfather, the original Steve McGarrett, was an honourable man who fought until the very last moment of his life to protect this country, is something that Steve and Kris hold dear to their hearts; they both have his service number tattooed on their forearms, reminding them constantly of his sacrifice. Maybe now they will have to get something for their father tattooed on them too as a reminder.

Once they are both finished paying their respects, Steve and Kris continue to stand at the pier and begin to devise an action plan to continue their investigation and start to track down Victor Hesse again. They talk in hushed voices, to make sure that they can’t be heard, and ultimately decide that they will go to the house tomorrow once HPD leaves the scene to recover the tiger and the champ toolbox and see where it goes from there. What matters most right now is arranging the funeral for their father, which should hopefully be tomorrow morning if they can pull the right strings with HPD today. Steve and Kris get so caught up in their plans that they almost forget that they’re supposed to be meeting the Governor any minute now, so when she gets their attention by saying “Commanders?” loudly over the wind, they almost jump in surprise. Thankfully, they keep their cool and turn around to face the voice that called them.

Governor Pat Jameson is a tall, blonde, older woman, who immediately gives off the impression that she will not be messed with. Kris likes that. Steve doesn’t really look impressed.

“Governor,” Steve says flatly, now facing the woman, who is approaching them still. Governor Jameson’s short blonde hair is blowing in the wind from the ocean, as is her business skirt and fitted suit jacket, but she doesn’t let that phase her. She walks up to the two Commanders and outstretches her hand for them to shake. Once greetings are passed around, Governor Jameson thanks Steve and Kris for meeting with her and invites them to walk along the pier with her. Still wondering what the Governor could possibly want, Steve and Kris look at each other, and then agree, following Governor Jameson’s lead.

This should be an interesting conversation, Kris thinks to herself as she slides off her hat, which is about to blow off in the wind. Here goes nothing.

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/233640136-some-kind-of-curse-hawaii-five-0

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25176232/chapters/61334512

#Hawaii Five-O #Hawaii Five-0 #Steve McGarrett #H50 #H50 fic #some kind of curse #wattpad #archive of our own #Danny Williams #kris mcgarrett

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thgfanficinspo · 4 years ago

Text

Fear of the Water - 17

Annie is released from the hospital for the televised recap of her Games.

(too much fluff)

Fear of the water Chapter 1 - Coriolanus One-shot - Jonsa - my AO3

(ANNIE)

More doctors come to talk to me. They say they’re not regular doctors but head doctors but I don’t care and I don’t talk to them. They say that the film people need footage of me reuniting with my mentors. And I have to be wearing my uniform in it.

Mags is on her feet before I can even sob. She’s shouting at them or growling at them and I hold onto Finnick because he won’t let them take to I don’t want them to take me I’m afraid because I can’t put the clothes back on they’ll try to put me back in the arena I wore them in the arena I can’t go back there don’t make me go back there . . .

Finnick wants to argue with the doctors rather than letting Mags do it because he gets tense and he doesn’t want her to have to fight but he lets her do it cause he can’t leave me because he’s the only one that anybody listens to and he doesn’t want me to get hurt and I don’t want to get hurt and I don’t want him to go.

Mags wins the argument, and the film crew trudges out. Mags comes back and sits on the side of my bed. She says I don’t have to worry now and I should get some rest.

It’s another night before they let me leave. I don’t remember falling asleep or waking up but I know I must have.

I hang on to Finnick with both hands when we walk cause I don’t want to get separated cause what if I can’t find him again and I get lost in the trees and what if I can’t find my way out.

I don’t look where we’re going because I have to count how many steps it is from the hospital room to the apartment. I lose track at one point because Proteus is saying how he’s got this snack ready for when we get back to the apartment and – and – and – it’s ruined it’s ruined I have to start over and over and over it’s ruined I have to it’s ruined and it’s like fire ants crawling on my skin my skin doesn’t fit me right because my skin doesn’t fit me right I have to it’s ruined it’s ruined . . .

Finnick starts saying things saying soft things saying nice things but I can’t hear the words through my hands cause they’re over my ears but he keeps saying and then it’s a number he’s saying a number. He was keeping count of my steps, too.

My skin is still crawling with a hundred million bugs but it’s not as bad because I have the number. I ruined it but Finnick fixed it. So now it’s okay.

He counts our steps out loud with me the rest of the way so I don’t lose my place again.

I think maybe I forgot what the apartment looks like because it doesn’t feel familiar when I walk into it, like I’ve actually been there. More like when you dream about a place and it’s just a bit wrong but you don’t realize until you wake up. It is clean and empty. No people.

The dining table is set for a meal; I’m happy that we go straight there instead of breaking off or going into our rooms. Mags sits at the head of the table. I sit on her right and Finnick sits on my right. He pulls out our chairs for us and slides them back under the table once we sit down.

Proteus sets out a tray of pink triangles on the table before he takes his seat across from me. “Watermelon,” he says. “We don’t have anything like it back home.”

Finnick puts some on my plate before serving himself. “You’ll like it,” he assures me.

“Eat,” Proteus says. “You’ll feel better.”

But I don’t want to eat pink triangles. I pick the black seeds out one at a time with my stubby fingernails to count them. I get very absorbed in this because everything needs to be in order and be counted and everything needs to be in order. I come back out of my trance once the seeds are arranged in a perfect square and notice that there is a new fruit on the table. The fuzzy one that’s pink and orange. I don’t know who to thank for bringing them out so I don’t say anything.

The peach is sweet and juicy and happy and I have to smile while I eat.

Somebody comes out of the kitchen, walking slow. It’s the girl. The zombie girl the one with no tongue and nothing left a whole life scooped out and tossed away.

She sets a cup of tea down in front of me and smiles. I just stare at her. She’s a mutt now, isn’t she? Am I? She points at the tea and touches her throat with her hand. I touch mine, too.

“It’s to help your throat,” Mags explains. “It must still be sore.”

Greer’s eyes flicker to the ground and then back up to mine. She slinks back into the kitchen without turning around.

My mother, she butchered me My father, he ate me My sister, little Ann-Marie, she gathered up the bones of me and tied them in a silken cloth to lay under the juniper Tweet, tweet! What a pretty bird am I!

We sit in the kitchen for a long time until there’s a knock at the door. “That’ll be your stylist,” Mags says to me. She puts her hand on top of mine and smiles. “Nothing to worry about.”

Somes opens the door.

The mean one, of course, who hates my forehead and my teeth and the one with green hair so bright that it hurts my eyes to look at and there’s the one that wants my hair. They go ahead into my room while Mags and Finnick talk with Beest, then we go into my room, too.

The team has started setting things up – the mean one is steaming a black dress on a freestanding hanger, the one with green hair is organizing some makeup on the table, and Pleased-as-Punch is suddenly bouncing over to me. I reflexively take a step back.

“Annie! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. Beautiful as ever.” She reaches out at me and she’s going to grab me and to hit me and put her hand around my throat and squeeze and she’s going to make me hurt and I don’t want that and my hands crash into her shoulders and she loses her balance and crashes to the ground.

I want to run away but my mother she butchered me I can’t because we’re stuck in the buildings now my father he ate me because the sun and the rain and the flood is outside so it’s not safe to go out there.

I stumble backwards and knock into a wall – no, not a wall – Finnick Odair – and I hide behind him because he is big and solid and safe and he won’t let them. He won’t he won’t he won’t.

People are saying things and somebody is upset more than one somebody is upset. They’re shouting that there’s something wrong with me and what the hell did I do call a goddamn peacekeeper no call a doctor everybody calm down what the hell don’t tell us to calm down!

I stop hearing words. It’s just fuzzy sounds, like you’re hearing underwater. Underwater. In the flood. In the city. We’re in a city now. A city and someone wants to choke me. On top of me. And his eyes are brown until they pop and then they’re not anything.

One of Finnick’s arms goes up and out like he’s telling somebody to stop or wait and his other arm comes around his back like a shell, partially shielding me but without touching me and that’s good cause I don’t want to be touched but I do want Finnick because he is big and solid and safe and he won’t let the hand choke me and he won’t let the water drown me and he won’t. He won’t he won’t he won’t.

(FINNICK)

I’m in a dressing room with my stylist and her assistants when one of Snow’s personal guards enters the room. The guards are handpicked Peacekeepers. They wear all black, including a long black coat, and have no visible weapons.

“Out,” says the guard.

My stylist ushers her helpers out of the room. She briefly outlines what she has left to do to get me ready before she runs off herself. I can see her deep, dramatic curtsey in the hall from the corner of my eyes. A few moments later, the president himself enters my room.

His smell, as always, announces his arrival. “Mr. Odair.”

“President Snow,” I say, dipping my head respectfully. I become conscious of the fact that I’m only half dressed. Maybe he wants to sample the goods for himself? No. He’s not that type of salesman. And though he facilitates it all the time, Snow doesn’t strike me as the sort of person that cares for prostitution in general. It seems too base for him.

“Leave us.” He doesn’t even look at the guard when addressing him. He sits down on the big leather sofa across from me and crosses his legs. “By all means, go on dressing.” I begin buttoning my shirt as he fusses with his white gloves. “Congratulations on your victor.”

“Thank you.”

“Your district will be very proud.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It has come to my attention that she may have some issues,” he says after a moment. Someone must’ve reported that she shoved one of her prep team to the ground.

“No. Not really.” Yes. Very much. “She’s just . . . having trouble adjusting.” And maybe that’s just what it is. But I don’t think so.

“The specific nature of her problems is not important at the present time,” Snow says. “It is important, however, that you keep your distance from her in the public eye.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighs like he’s dealing with a child. “I understand you’re fond of her and perhaps even protective. Perfectly understandable given the situation. But you are not to interfere while she is on camera. You are not to help her, not to make any of it easier. That’s not the sort of man Finnick Odair is.”

No, the illustrious Finnick Odair is not that sort of man, even if plain old Finnick is. “I understand.”

“Good.” He stands and buttons his jacket. “Frankly, I am not concerned with what happens off camera, so long as no one sees it.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m sure.” He cracks a slightly amused grin, which quickly fades, and steps toward me. “Congratulations once again.” There’s blood on his teeth when he smiles.

I sit in the front row between Mags and Beest. Eefa and Proteus are on Mags’s other side, passing a flask back and forth and laughing. This is odd because Eefa doesn’t laugh and she doesn’t go out in public spaces where there are a lot of people. She must be just drunk enough to tolerate it. Eefa doesn’t enjoy many people, but she likes Proteus. I think it’s because he can be anything anybody wants him to be in any situation; Mags once described him as a shapeshifter. Broadsea is nowhere to be seen.

“The president came to see me,” I say to Mags.

“What did he want?” Mags whispers.

“He wanted me not to interfere with Annie. Not publicly, at least.”

Mags sighs. She doesn’t need me to explain it to her. “Well, that’s all right. I ought to be the one looking after her anyway. I would already if she’d let me. But she only seems to want you.”

I grunt in reply. I do want Mags to help. I think I need her to. I’d like to help Annie, but I really don’t know how. Mags knows what she’s doing. She’s helped all the victors adjust after their wins, not just the ones from District 4. It’s why so many of us are devoted to her, even broken ones like the drunks from 9, 11, and 12 and the addicts from 1 and 6.

I don’t know why Annie’s latched on to me. The only reason I can think of is that I’m the first one she saw when she woke up. She seems to think she’s in physical danger, too, so it makes sense that she’d prefer me. As maternal as Mags is, as comforting as she can be, she’s not in fighting shape anymore. But I’m big enough to hide behind and mean enough to scare people off and yes, if it comes down to it, I can fight better than anyone.

But I don’t know if she’s capable of thinking like that right now. I don’t think she is. It’s more like her subconscious made a snap decision to trust me and that was that.

“How did the rest of the prep go?” I ask.

“All right.” She sounds too tired to get into it right now.

“Not well,” Beest says at the same time. The lights in the auditorium dim and we all applaud. “At least she tired herself out by the end,” he hisses.

Annie comes out in a little black dress with pearls all over it. Pearls are woven into her hair, decorating her face and shoulders. I wonder if she’s wearing Mags’s hairpin. She would look beautiful if she weren’t so scared.

I don’t notice she’s barefoot until Beest starts cursing her under his breath for forgetting her shoes.

Music is playing and the crowd is cheering. Annie holds up her hand to shield her eyes from the lights that beat down on her. She shrinks away from the noise. Caesar somehow draws her over towards him without touching her and without her paying attention. She scans the crowd rapidly; when her eyes fall on me, the terror on her face is gone, though only for a fraction of a second.

Caesar tries to kiss her on the cheek, but she jumps back from him. The expression on her face is one of terror. Caesar laughs it off and invites her to sit in the heavy throne they’ve brought out for her. She climbs on and sits with her legs crossed, pushing the hem of the dress higher up her thighs. “I guess it was good she insisted on wearing shorts underneath the dress,” Mags says to Beest. He grumbles.

When the crowd calms down, Caesar is ready to ask a few warm-up questions. I’m sure the doctors as well as his higher-ups have given him instructions on what to say and how to behave since she’s been acting so strangely – actually, I don’t think I’ve heard her say a full sentence since she woke up. So Caesar’s questions are simple, mostly yes-or-no, but there’s some room to expand if Annie wants to. She doesn’t. In fact she remains totally silent throughout the interview. Doesn’t even shake her head or nod in reply. Just stares out at the lights and the audience and the cameras.

“Not very chatty, I understand, stage fright and all that,” Caesar says. “I used to suffer from it myself.”

The crowd vocalizes their disbelief.

“It’s true! Thankfully, though, there are pills for everything these days! Ha, ha, ha!” The crowd settles down and Caesar begins the interview. “Are you excited to go home?”

Annie starts gnawing on her nails.

“You have a brother, I understand. Your twin, yes?” Still nothing. “Well, I’m sure he’s very excited to see you.” Nothing. Caesar tries one or two more questions before he gives up.

The recap starts up and Annie stares blankly at the screen for the first forty minutes. She cringes and shuts her eyes during the bloodbath. She doesn’t open them again, but she somehow knows when the footage cuts to the image of her counting the bricks in her cave. When the Careers creep inside.

The real Annie pulls her knees against her chest and begins to sing under her breath.

I can’t actually hear her over the broadcast, but her lips form the words like they’ve been doing for weeks and that song is front and center in my mind the way it has been since she first started singing,

The moment comes where Gad grabs Annie’s hair in the cave and all hell breaks loose.

Annie – the Annie here and now, not the one on television – shrieks. She presses her hands over her ears and curls in on herself and shrieks.

Everyone jumps a little. Caesar, ever the professional, attempts to pat Annie on the shoulder and draw her back to reality. Touching her only makes it worse. She jumps away from him so quickly that she knocks over her heavy chair; it makes a sound like thunder when it falls down on the ground beside her. She remains there, huddled on the floor. Slaps her hands over her ears again and screams and screams.

I rise to my feet and surge toward the stage before I remember that I’m not supposed to help her.

She’s on her knees on the ground. Violent tremors wrack her body. Her eyes are pressed shut, but I can tell she’s not sure quite where she is. “No, no, no, no, no!” she sobs. “NO!” Her voice is so high-pitched now that it cracks.

“Cut the feed!” Caesar commands one of his crew. “Keep the recap going but cut the feed of her!” He turns to the audience with a smile on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, please just afford us a few moments of patience.”

A handful of peacekeepers and doctors rush on stage as the lights dim. One of the peacekeepers picks Annie up, which draws a new, bloodcurdling cry of fear from her lips. Her eyes are wild as they dart about the auditorium. She flails desperately, trying to force the peacekeeper to drop her. But he holds on.

Her hands fly out over and over, attempting to scratch and cut but she can only scrape the armor with her fingernails.

The curtains close around the stage, blocking Annie from view. Her screams turn to defeated moans and then stop altogether.

I’m still frozen, gripping the edge of the stage. Watching helplessly. Mags puts her hand on my shoulder. Her other hand covers her mouth and there are tears in her eyes.

Caesar is saying something to the crowd as I force my fingers to unlock and realize my hands are shaking so hard that they’re practically vibrating.

People usher me and the other victors from 4 out as the recap starts up again; I put my arm around Mags. They blast the sound so that people can’t talk over it.

We end up backstage with a hodge-podge of peacekeepers with their helmets off, stage hands, Avoxes, and doctors. Caesar Flickerman is getting his makeup redone. Only a few people seem to be panicking.

“What is happening?” Proteus speaks in a sharper tone than I’ve ever heard from him before. “Where is Annie?”

“Please lower your voice,” says a female peacekeeper. “Annie Cresta is being returned to the medical bay for testing.”

“Testing?” I repeat. My tone makes it sound like I’ve never heard the word before. “She’s already been discharged.”

“Please follow me to your quarters,” she says calmly. She shepherds us into our apartment. “Please remain here while you await instructions.”

Proteus whips up a light dinner in the kitchen while I try to drink myself to death. Around the fifth drink, Mags yanks the crystal tumbler from my hands. “Enough.”

Greer and Somes start bringing out plates of food arranged like artwork. Proteus comes in from the kitchen and tells Somes what wine to serve with the meal. We all sit around the table, put our napkins in our laps, rest our forearms on the edge of the table (never our elbows), and eat in silence.

I open the window in my bedroom to hear the city outside. Most windows in the training center don’t open at all – there’s always a risk of a tribute jumping out – but mine cracks four inches.

But there’s nothing. No cheering from below. Not even drunken shouting or cars or trams. Just silence.

It’s a few hours before they summon us to the hospital. I try my hardest to sleep in the meantime but I just wind up staring at the ceiling.

19 notes · View notes

prolestariwrites · 4 years ago

Photo

The Wish [3]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now posted: Chapter 3, in which Dante comes face to face with his past, and a weirder version of his present, over some chicken parmesan.

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Chapter 3: Family Dinner

The entire ride to the restaurant, Dante spends his time half-listening to Lir talk about her day and half looking at everything. They are in Red Grave City, but it’s different: cleaner somehow, less polluted, less scummy. They pass a few familiar landmarks on their way through downtown from where their house is in the more residential part of the city, and at one point go by a turnoff that will take them to the shop. Dante perks up a bit but she makes a left instead of a right, and he presses his lips together, wondering if he should ask her to turn around. But he decides against it in the end; the city looks strange enough as it is, and if they roll up to the Devil May Cry and it’s a hair salon or something he just might lose it.

Dante is nervous as hell when Lir pulls their car into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant. She breathes a sigh of relief as she turns off the engine and unbuckles her seat belt. “Five twenty-five,” she says with a grin. “Now we don’t have to listen to Vergil complain about us being late.”

He only nods as they climb out of the car, and he quickly scoots around so he can shut her door for her. Lir gives him a thanks before taking his hand, heat crawling up his neck as they head into the restaurant.

“Sparda family,” she tells the hostess as Dante looks around. It’s a smaller kind of place but lots of atmosphere, the lighting a bit low and Frank Sinatra playing quietly on the speakers. Dante stares at the huge fish tank next to the entrance as the hostess makes a note in the guest book. “You have a table in the back. This way,” she says.

Lir’s hand is steady on his as they follow to the back of the restaurant. But it’s enough to make him go numb when sure enough, Vergil is sitting at the table, talking to Lady. Lir calls a greeting and he stands up to give her a kiss on the cheek before turning to Dante. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, looking him up and down.

Dante realizes he probably is gaping, so to cover his shock he shakes his head. Vergil snorts and moves to sit back down, but Dante reaches out and grabs his arm. He pulls his brother into a hug, squeezing him hard, and after a moment he can practically feel the stares from everyone else around him.

Easing back, he smiles sheepishly at the very confused-looking Vergil. “Good to see you, Verge,” Dante grins, clapping him on the arm.

“Okay…”

“Lady! Looking good!”

The others look at him funny, and Lady folds her arms. “Why are you calling me that?”

Dante scratches his chin. “Ain’t that your name? Lady?”

“That’s not some lady, that’s my wife,” Vergil scoffs. He turns to Lir and asks, “Did he suffer some kind of brain damage?”

“No, he’s just joking. Badly.” Lir tugs on his sleeve and says, “Come sit. Do you want to sit next to Mary or to Vergil?”

“Mary. Right.” Dante clears his throat as she steers him to a seat, taking the one between him and Lady. Or Mary. Whoever she is.

The two women start chatting and Dante stares at Lady, noting how different she looks without the blunt haircut and the scar on her nose. She still has the heterochromia, but her dark hair is down to her shoulders, and Dante notes that she’s actually wearing normal pants and a blouse and not some too-small schoolgirl uniform or looking like a step above a stripper.

Lady shoots him a look with a wry smile. “Why are you staring? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Dante answers quickly. “Sorry. Guess I haven’t uh… seen you in a while?”

“Yeah, things have been busy.” She picks up a glass of red wine and takes a sip. “How is business going?”

Dante wonders himself, but replies, “Good. Going good.”

“Good to hear.” She turns and calls to the other end of the table, “Boys? Did you say hello to your uncle?”

He glances down, his eyes going wide. How did he not notice the two sitting at the other end? Vergil is talking to one, a boy of about ten or eleven with longish silver hair, just like he and Vergil have. It’s the spitting image of Nero, and Dante figures he has one mystery solved at least.

Another boy sits next to him, dark hair hanging in his eyes which are glued to a cell phone. Vergil says something to him and the boy looks up and makes a face. He too looks exactly like Vergil, except for the dark features, and Dante frowns. “Are those…?”

“Yeah, Nero and Vitale are getting big, hm?” Lady smiles rather affectionately down at them. “They hit eleven last month and bam, both shot up about three inches. I can barely keep them in clothes.”

“Nero,” Dante sighs with a grin. The kid turns from talking to Vergil to offer him a wave, and the other glances upwards again. “And… Vitale?”

“I go by V now,” he answers curtly before rolling his eyes and looking down at the screen.

“Don’t be rude,” Lady scolds.

Lir laughs. “Teenagers, what can you do? I can’t believe how big the twins have gotten. They are young men now.”

Dante sits back in his chair, tuning out the rest of the conversation as he stares at the two boys. So Nero is only eleven, not nineteen, and Dante makes a quick calculation. Vergil could have still met Lady—Mary—at the Temen-ni-gru, but he definitely wouldn’t have gone to Fortuna first. Does that mean he wouldn’t have had Yamato? Without the sword he had no hope of opening the portal, and Dante frowns in thought. Most likely Vergil never went to hell, which sort of makes sense if they hadn’t been orphaned. So does that mean nothing else happened either? Did the Order still exist? Did it worship his old man? Is Mallet Island still there? If Dante never had a reason to go there, does that mean Mundus is still out there somewhere?

His questions are interrupted by Lir’s hand on his arm. “You okay?” she asks.

He looks up to see the three adults staring at him. “Yeah. I was uh… trying to remember something.” Dante leans forward and nods to Vergil and Lady. “Remind me, how did you two meet?”

Lady blushes a bit but Vergil clears his throat. “I worked for Mary’s father when I was in college, before he died. Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Dante chuckles. “Not one bit.”

“Typical,” Vergil mutters, but before he can protest his parents arrive.

Just like when he looked at the photographs in their house, Eva and Sparda seem like something out of a dream. Dante stays seated as he watches the family give hugs in turn, his heart beating ridiculously fast in his chest.

Sparda has longish hair pulled back into a ponytail, and coupled with the tan linen pants and a button-down shirt with a bold flower pattern, he looks like a retiree on vacation in the Bahamas. Dante grins to himself, trying to remember if his father always had that sense of fashion, especially contrasted to his mother. Eva looks graceful and elegant, the handful of fine lines and silver streaks in her hair giving her the appearance of a matriarch. But she is unmistakable, especially since he’s been looking at her picture on his desk for two decades. When her eyes turn to him, he feels frozen by how alive she is until she reaches out a hand. “Dante, are you okay?” Eva laughs.

The laugh he recognizes instantly from deep within his memory. He’s on his feet in a moment, wrapping her into a tight hug. Her perfume is even familiar, and Dante takes a deep breath as he tries to memorize everything for when he wakes up. It’s been a really long time since he’s had a dream about her, and usually she has a sad smile, fear in her eyes, as she tells him to hide in the closet.

Eva places a kiss on his cheek that makes his eyes a bit misty. Then Sparda pats him on the arm, and unwilling to let Eva go just yet, Dante wraps it around his father in a group hug. He knows he must look ridiculous, but this is too much to take in at once, and he doesn’t let go until he is sure he can breathe.

Lir pats his thigh when he sits back down. She gives him a smile that he can’t quite interpret as the waitress arrives to take their drink orders.

The dinner is fun, more fun than Dante could remember having in a while. And that’s saying something since he and Nero went camping a few weekends ago, and the Love Planet had gotten a karaoke machine. Even the twins perk up when their grandparents arrive, especially when Sparda pulls out a wad of twenty-dollar bills. “Don’t spoil them,” Vergil groans.

“Nonsense,” Sparda says, pulling out several for each boy. “No such thing as spoiling your grandsons.”

Dante frowns as the others laugh. He doesn’t remember Sparda being like… well, this. Warm, sure, but this generous? He didn’t exactly dote on him and Vergil, leaving a lot of the child-rearing to Eva. A few memories surface, mostly listening to Sparda telling stories that were as exciting as they were scary and sneaking into his study to look at his weapons. Maybe being a grandparent is different than a parent? Or maybe Sparda is as different in this dream as everyone and everything else is.

“You’re usually much more talkative, Dante,” Eva comments.

He clears his throat but Lir leans over him a bit and says, “He wasn’t feeling well this morning. Forgot all about what day it was.”

“Are you coming down with something?” asks Eva, her face drawn in concern.

“Nah, nothing like that,” Dante answers. “I think I was having a weird dream.”

“What was it about?” Vergil asks.

Dante takes a sip of water to cover his discomfort with the question. “Everyone was dead, basically,” he says bluntly.

“Dante!” Lir exclaims as the others laugh.

“What?” he chuckles. “He asked.”

“What did we die of?” Sparda asks.

“Uh…” Dante rubs the back of his neck. “There was an attack. But not everyone was dead. La—uh, Mary, was alive. And Nero.” He turns to Lir. “You didn’t even exist.”

Lir laughs. “No wonder you were so out of it.”

The conversation turns to weird dreams people have had in the past, but Dante notices that his father gives him a strange look. Dante’s brows lift a bit in question, but Sparda doesn’t say anything, leaving him to wonder.

The food is the best he’s had in ages, and Dante eats until he is ready to burst. Vergil pokes fun at him which he gives right back, enjoying the scowl on his brother’s face when he tells a slightly raunchy joke and makes Nero laugh. Sparda laughs too, and Dante ignores Lady’s scolding, used to tuning her out. But when Lir rubs his thigh, it draws his attention, and Dante realizes at some point he had slung his arm around her. “Behave yourself,” she whispers with a smile.

There is something in her gaze that is almost like a promise, a shared connection he doesn’t quite understand. It’s enough to make his neck heat, and he shifts in his seat as he mumbles an apology. “Don’t go repeating that, Nero,” he says.

“Can me and V come hang out at the shop next week?” Nero asks.

Both boys look at him expectantly, and he shrugs as his eyes glance towards Vergil. “As long as your old man says it’s okay,” he replies.

“It’s fine,” Lady says. “Just don’t let them touch the equipment.”

Dante pictures Agni and Rudra hanging on the wall, Cerberus above the door, Beowulf in the closet. “Yeah, okay,” he nods. “I’ll put the guns away too.”

Lir snorts but Vergil narrows his eyes. “It’s not a joke, Dante. I don’t want them touching anything that can get their hand blown off.”

“Well, Nevan is the only thing that can really blow off a hand, but I got a case for her,” he replies.

Vergil waves him off and the conversation resumes, and again Dante notices his father staring at him. Sparda looks shocked, like he’s seen a ghost, and when Dante raises his brows in question his father only shakes his head and quickly goes back to his chocolate cake.

At the end of the meal, Dante doesn’t want to leave, but the others start saying their goodbyes. He hugs his mother tightly and kisses her cheek, earning himself one of her laughs. “Always so sweet,” she murmurs.

His father shakes his hand, but wears a frown. Sparda pulls him in a bit close and murmurs so only Dante can hear, “What you said earlier? You were joking, right?”

“Huh?”

Sparda clears his throat and scratches his nose, glancing around like a conspirator. “You said you had Nevan in a case. Did you read that somewhere?”

“What are you talking about?” Dante laughs.

“Oh! Right, right, nevermind. I must have thought you meant something else.” Dante wrinkles his brow in confusion, but then realizes his father probably doesn’t know Nevan was turned into a guitar. He starts to explain but Sparda cuts him off. “Can we meet for lunch next week?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dante says excitedly.

“Good.” Sparda pats his arm, giving him another strange look before moving away.

Lady promises to text him and they leave Vergil to grumble over the bill and head to the car. Lir offers to drive again, which he takes gratefully. They are back on the road a minute later, and Dante leans the seat back with a deep sigh. “That was so good,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, it was fun.” His eyes are drooping so he misses Lir’s sideways glance when she asks, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really keep a gun in the shop?”

Dante sits up and frowns at her, and Lir quickly goes on, “I understand why you would, really I do. I was just surprised. I thought it was a joke, but it didn’t sound like one.” He shakes his head, thoroughly confused, and Lir asks, “Well? Did you buy a gun?”

He clears his throat and adjusts his seatbelt. “I have a few, yeah?”

“A few.” Lir considers this for a moment before sighing. “I can’t say that I’m comfortable with it, but again, I can see why. You are safe with them? They are locked up and everything?”

Dante thinks about Ebony and Ivory in the drawer of his desk. “Sure,” he says.

Claudius is there to greet them when they get home, and Dante watches with some amusement as Lir scoops him up and coos at him sweetly as she carries him to the kitchen. Suddenly tired, he heads upstairs to change out of his clothes, deciding to stay in the boxer briefs for bed. She’s seen him already like that anyway, right?

Lir joins him a few minutes later, when Dante is already settled in bed and flicking through the television stations. He tries not to look as she changes into a short nightgown, sitting up on the pillows when she slides into bed.

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, but Lir takes the remote control and turns the television off. She straddles his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders, and Dante gulps as he looks up at her smile.

“It was such a nice night. You were so sweet with your parents,” she sighs. She leans in and kisses his cheek, making Dante jump. “And no arguing either. I’m very proud of you.”

“So you uh… you’re not mad about the guns?” he asks.

Lir shakes her head. “No. In fact…” Her voice trails off as she drags her palms down his chest, making his breath catch. “I think it’s kind of hot.”

“Really?” he asks, brows shooting up in surprise. She nods, and then rocks her hips, and Dante bites back a groan. Even through the fabric of his shorts he can feel how hot she is, and he has a very firm suspicion that if he lifted her gown, he’d find she was wearing nothing underneath.

Lir continues grinding against him, tilting close enough to brush her lips on his. Dante sucks in a breath as his body sparks to life instantly, grabbing her hips to slow her for a moment before he gets completely hard and can’t think.

But her fingers teasing his hair and her lips dancing along his jaw makes it hard enough already. “Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I just…”

He doesn’t know how to continue, but just then Lir pulls her nightgown off over her head and tosses it away. Dante’s eyes bulge when he sees he was right about nothing underneath, and his eyes dart downwards as she slides one hand down his stomach, a mischievous grin on her face. She tugs at the waistband of his shorts and he gives a huff. This is his dream, right? So he shouldn’t feel guilty. Not at all. Especially when she reaches inside and licks her lips, the guilt melting away as he sinks against the mattress with a groan.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc v #dmc lady #dmc sparda #dmc eva #dmc oc #lir #fan fiction #myfic #the wish

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seaweedbrain404 · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Au: A Guide to Parenting, Friendships and Heartache (pt1)

read the rest on ao3

Still, he felt it wasn’t fair to him, they had been married nearly a year but had been dating for years and years beforehand. It wasn’t fair to him or Anna’s parents because all three, Anna and his parents were dead. Remus, Marie and Edward were forced to navigate some sort of way to raise the baby by themselves. Of course, it should’ve been all Remus but Marie and Edward were just too nice. He felt they had a sense of duty or maybe a love for their grandson that made them do it.

Either way, they were suffocating. Always up in Remus’ business and he felt horrible for thinking that because without them, the past few years would’ve been hell. Now, Teddy was six years old and Remus needed to get the hell out of the small town that was nestled in the back-arse of nowhere in Wales. Sure, he would certainly miss the beautiful scenery and his job at the local chipper but it was time for a change. That time was now.

Remus picked a cheap apartment somewhere in Liverpool, bid his in-laws goodbye and packed up shop. One of the reasons that Remus chose Liverpool is because he had to drop out of college to help support Teddy and now he was considering going back to actually get a degree. It didn’t escape him that he still had Teddy to think of but he couldn’t just stay on a job that just paid minimum wage and kept them threading above the poverty line for the rest of his life. It was now or never.

It was all these things Remus was thinking about one night, months after they had arrived. He had gotten a job but he hadn’t started night school like he’d wanted to. Teddy was tucked away, asleep in bed when Remus made his fourth cup of tea that evening.

He knew he needed to hire a babysitter. The thing was, he wasn’t sure who to trust with Teddy. Besides, it wasn’t like he had sufficient funds to hire anyone until now. Earlier that day he put a notice on the board downstairs, hoping that if he had to trust someone then it would be someone from this building.

The clock showed 2:30am when Remus finally retired to bed, checking in on Teddy before doing so.

The next morning, the school run was as normal as ever. Teddy was in Year 1 and was getting on exceptionally well, despite having moved school just under halfway through the year. Remus was glad about this, at least he hadn’t unintentionally messed his kid up.

“Daddy?” Teddy asked through a mouthful of toast that morning.

Remus looked up from his tea, ready to give his son full attention.

“Can I have a friend over?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, his name is Harry and he’s really good at Lego”

Remus thought for a moment before responding, Teddy having a friend over seemed like a good idea, especially since this was the first time he’d ever heard Teddy mentioning anything about a friend. “Well, I don’t see why not but I’ll have to talk to Harry’s mummy or daddy first, okay?”

“Okay” Teddy grinned at him, wolfing down the rest of his toast.

“Daddy, why do I have to wear this?” The 6-year-old grimaced as Remus helped him do the buttons on his coat.

“Because, in school you have to wear a uniform”

“But whyyyyy” Teddy took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the flat, waiting patiently as Remus locked the door behind them.

Remus just smiled and shrugged.

Teddy didn’t let the silence linger for long as the two walked down the street towards the school. “Daddy, why don’t we have a car?”

God, it was moments like these Remus wished social class didn’t exist because how do you explain to a 6-year-old that the reason they don’t have a car is because Remus works a minimum wage job, having to support himself and a small child.

“I don’t really like cars” He said instead.

Teddy cocked his head to the side, looking up at his father. “Why not?”

“They’re too noisy and they make the air bad”

“Oh, I guess it’s okay to not have a car then”

Remus let out a light laugh, never a dull moment with Teddy.

“Harry said I could go over to his as well, that’s why I asked if he could come over too” the small boy said, in reference to their conversation over breakfast.

“Mmm… we’ll see, I still have to talk to his mummy or daddy”

“Yeah- oh look!” Teddy stopped dead in his tracks at the school gates, pointing to a boy about his age with dark hair and round glasses. “That’s Harry daddy, I have to go!”

“Wait- do I not get a hug and a kiss before school?” Remus crouched down, eye level to Teddy.

“Oh, sorry I nearly forgot” Teddy turned around and hugged his dad tightly. Remus gave him a kiss on the forehead before letting him. “Bye daddy!” He called, already running off.

Remus watched Teddy run up to the boy he pointed at earlier and tackle him with a hug, which was eagerly returned. He had a small smile on his face when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Are you Teddy’s dad?” He was face to face with a red haired woman with green eyes, she had a kind smile on her face as she held out her hand.

Remus shook it. “Yeah, yes I am”

The woman smiled wider. “Brilliant! I’m Lily Potter, Harry’s mum- Harry has been going on about Teddy for ages”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realised he’d be known as ‘Teddy’s dad’ instead of Remus. It was a surreal moment before he realised he hadn’t introduced himself. “Remus Lupin, Teddy mentioned something about a playdate?”

“Oh yes, would you like my number?” Lily asked and kept talking as Remus produced his phone from his pocket. “We can work out the time later but how does Saturday sound? I don’t usually work weekends so any day is okay for me” she handed Remus back his phone, shrugging a little.

“Thank you… I’ll get back to you on that one, Saturday should be fine” He smiled and waved a little, walking backwards before turning around.

Remus felt a little lighter as we walked into work that morning. He worked in a small bookshop with very flexible hours and shitty pay so it was both a curse and a blessing. The owner even let him bring Teddy in during the weekends and after school if he wasn’t finished his shift. Teddy liked the picture books and the ones with dinosaurs the most.

About halfway through the shift, Remus’ phone rang. At first he thought maybe it was from the school and something horrible had happened but then he saw the number onscreen; it wasn’t saved so it couldn’t be the school.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Remus Lupin?”

“Um- yeah”

“Cool, cool…. listen, I saw your notice downstairs and I’m wondering if the babysitting position is still available?”

So that’s what this was about. Remus hadn’t expected anyone to respond so quickly and eagerly. “Oh! yes, yeah it is”

“Great, I’d love to take it so”

“Okay um, thank you Mr….”

“Sirius Black, I live just across the hall…. I can start whenever”

“Right, oh, can I get back to you? I’m not sure what day I’ll need it but it’ll only be once a week and then we can talk fares then too”

“Sounds brilliant, cheers”

“Cheers” Remus replied, then heard the other man hang up.

“Ooooo…. you look cheery after that, who was it?” His coworker, Alice, gave him a wink.

“I got a sitter sorted for Teddy so I can do night classes”

“Oh! that’s lovely dearie” She pulled Remus into a quick tight hug. Somehow Alice Longbottom always seemed to hug him. In fact, she always seemed to hug anyone she was half familiar with.

The rest of the shift went blissfully even when Remus went to collect Teddy and brought him back to the shop to finish off the last few hours of his shift.

“Daddy, did you talk to Harry’s mummy?” He asked suddenly.

“I did” Remus answered, sorting through some of the front shelves. He looked over at Teddy, who was sitting on top of the counter besides the till. Alice had put him up there, despite Remus telling her to just leave him sit on the floor.

“Annnnnd?”

“She said Saturday and I said Saturday was okay”

“Yay!” Teddy jumped off the counter, which considering the fact the counter was a lot taller than him and he was 6-years-old was enough to give Remus a small heart attack and scold him.

“Teddy! you can’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” He chided the child who had wrapped himself securely around his father’s leg.

“But I didn’t hurt myself”

It was too hard trying to argue with a child and Remus resorted to shaking his head. “I know but you might, I’m just worried” He said, bending down and picking him up.

“Why are you worried?” Teddy asked, taking Remus’ face between his small hands.

“I’m your dad, that’s my job” He said before blowing a raspberry into Teddy’s stomach which made the boy giggle and squeal with joy, and putting him back down. “Now, let me finish this so we can get home starfish, okay?”

“Okay” Teddy nodded in agreement, starting off towards his favourite picture books.

Remus continued filling the shelves when he heard Alice speak next to him. “You’re a good dad, y’know Remus”

Remus smiled slightly. “I try my best”

“I just hope Frank will be too, I’m thinking of having a baby with him” She confessed, smiling a little madly.

“I’m sure Frank will be great, he sounds lovely from what I’ve heard”

The rest of Remus’ shift flew by and soon, the father and son duo were walking down the street again.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I was thinking pasta”

“Are you going to try and make the one with the weird green sauce again daddy?”

“Pesto, and no, I know you like the red sauce”

“That’s okay then”

A brief silence settled between them before one of them broke it and this time it was Remus.

“Teddy?”

“Yeah, daddy?” The small boy looked up at Remus, putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“How do you feel about a babysitter?” Remus asked cautiously.

Teddy seemed to think about this for a moment. “Why would I need a babysitter? I have you”

Remus smiled a little at that. “I want to go back to school- grown up school, college, and I’d go late so a really nice man will come mind you for a couple hours and put you to bed and then when you wake up in the morning… I’ll be home again”

Teddy was quiet for a long time again. A bit too long for Remus’ liking but eventually he nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s okay”

So, just like that, Remus and Teddy walked home the rest of the way with Teddy telling him everything that had happened in school that day.

Once they returned home, Remus started on dinner and Teddy did his homework at the kitchen table. All was well. Bathtime then bedtime rolled around quickly and soon Remus was the only one awake.

He turned on his laptop and started browsing night classes. It was still early enough in the school year for him to join. He wanted to find a course that took place once a week and would teach what he wanted. It took a while and once he found it, he realised it would take him far longer to complete his degree than he initially thought. That didn’t deter him though because he sent a text to Sirius Black, asking if Thursday worked for him. Thankfully, the response was very enthusiastic.

Wednesday went by like a flash. The pair got up, had breakfast and when Remus dropped Teddy to school, he spoke with Lily again. They arranged a time for Saturday and then Remus was off to work again.

“Remus?”

He looked up from the till and gave Alice a small smile. “What’s up?”

Alice looked a bit sheepish, fidgeting with her one of her rings. “Would you and Teddy like to come for dinner sometime?”

Remus opened his mouth to answer but Alice cut him off.

“It’s just that, Teddy’s so good and Frank is thrilled about the idea of a baby but he says he’s really scared and I thought maybe if you two came for dinner, you could talk to him and maybe he could see how wonderful Teddy is”

“Oh-“ Remus paused, scratching the side of his neck. “Yeah, I guess we could… I mean- I don’t see why not, Teddy adores you so I’m sure he’ll behave”

Alice smiled widely, pulling him into another one of those tight hugs. “Thank you Remus! I don’t know what I’d do without you”

The rest of the shift passed quietly, not many people came to the bookshop and so when it was time to pick Teddy up, Alice told Remus to just go home.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you” She reassured him, pushing him towards the door.

“Alright, alright, I’ll see you tomorrow”

#marauders #the marauders #remus lupin #teddy lupin #lily evans #harry potter #marauders au #marauders fic #hp marauders #modern marauders #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar au #background jily

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cynicalrainbows · 5 years ago

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The Next Best Thing Chapter 9

Anne tells her the big news over lunch.

Cathy is eating lukewarm school pasta; Anne has a Mary lunch.

(Anne is the only person Cathy knows who has three sorts of school lunches- what they call Jane lunch, Mary lunch and Fancy lunch.

Usually- when things are normal-ish, when she’s just at home like normal and it’s Mary’s job to take her to school, she gets a Mary lunch, which means whatever sandwich Mary has made in a rush, in between feeding Baby Catherine and getting herself ready and checking Anne is wearing school uniform and not her Ninja turtles tshirt (although sometimes Mary forgets to check the last one).

Mary lunches are mostly ok, except that they’re usually a bit squashed....although once Mary was SO tired from being up with Baby Catherine she forgot to put in a filling and Anne had to pretend to the other children on the lunch table that she’d just asked for bread and butter that day.

(They didn’t look like they believed her.)

The other end of the scale is a Fancy lunch, and there’s only two times Anne gets one of those: either after the Mary lunch has been especially bad (or when she gets secret lunch option number four- which is actually no lunch at all because Mary forgot to pick up bread, or picked up the bread but forgot the making-the-sandwich part or remembered the bread and the sandwich making part but forgot to put it in Anne’s bag) and their teacher has called Anne over to ask, in hushed tones, Is Everything Alright At Home?

The other time is after something else has slipped a bit (once when Mary was sick, Anne didn’t come to school for two days) and the ‘chat’ has turned into a phone call.

And that’s when Anne gets a Fancy lunch.

Fancy lunches are never the same but always ten times nicer than whatever anyone else has for lunch that day, because no one actually makes them, Anne’s mum orders them from a special company who spend all their time just making fancy lunches that can fit into a lunchbox- tiny wraps with fancy fillings skewered on cocktail sticks and rolls of rice and seaweed in pretty patterns and little individual quiches.

The only bad thing about them is that they never last for more than a few days and then lunch making becomes Mary’s job again and it can be a bit disappointing to suddenly get a squashed marmite sandwich instead of the fancy lunch-in-a-box you were expecting.

Jane lunches are sort of in the middle of the two, Cathy supposes.

They’re never as fancy as the Fancy lunches (Jane doesn’t seem to shop at the places that sell quinoa and lemongrass) and they’re not exciting really, just sandwiches and fruit.

Then again, they always always have things that Anne definitely likes in them, whereas there’s nearly always a bit of the Fancy lunch that she has to pick off and set aside because she doesn’t like it, like the truffles that didn’t look or taste at all like chocolate.

They’re never as pretty as the Fancy lunches either but Jane does things like cutting off the crusts and peeling the apple and cutting it into slices that Anne’s mum never seems to want to do when it’s her actually fixing the food.

(It makes the food taste nice.)

The best thing about Jane’s lunches is that she never gets cross if a bit of it doesn’t get eaten, apart from to ask if Anne wants something else next time. She never gets ‘I don’t know why I even bother paying for nice things for you’ angry like Anne’s dad did when he found out about the uneaten truffles-that-were-really-mushrooms.

And if she’s done any baking- and Jane bakes a LOT- there’s always a biscuit or a little piece of cake or a pastry twist wrapped up carefully in greaseproof paper, ready for Anne to split in half and share with Cathy in return for all the times that Cathy shared her own food on no-lunch days.

Cathy doesn’t have packed lunches now that she’s with Catalina but she has sometimes wondered what they’d be like and she figures they’d probably be closer to the Jane lunches than the Fancy lunches.

Oddly enough, the thought does not make her feel all that disappointed.

Anne tells her the Big News right away, because she can’t keep secrets, and the big news is that Anne’s getting to have a sleepover for her birthday.

Cathy asks when and Anne says that it’ll be on the Saturday coming because that’s when her birthday is going to be.

Cathy knows when Anne’s birthday is- she has it written down in the furry purple My Secret Diary that she got for Christmas, because there’s a section to write down things about your friends, and she has Anne written down first because she’s her best friend- and she feels a bit guilty, like maybe she should have remembered.

Anne doesn’t seem to mind though.

Anne says that when she asked her mum the night before what she was doing for her birthday this year, and could they go to Splash Zone again like last year, her mum had nodded and said YesMaybeAskDaddy (which is how she answers lots of things).....and then she’d sat up, and she’d put down her glossy magazine and checked something on her phone and her eyes had gone very wide.

So instead of SplashZone- because now there isn’t time to book it before the weekend, Anne’s getting a sleepover party.

Part of the treat is the sleepover, according to Anne, and part of the treat is meant to be that she doesn’t have to share the sleepover with Kitty, even though Kitty lives at Anne’s house most of the time.

Anne says she doesn’t mind sharing her bedroom but she IS glad Kitty isn’t going to be at the sleepover.

According to Anne, Kitty hasn’t been much fun at all since Uncle Edmund dropped her off and she won’t play anything that Anne wants to play anymore, even when Anne offers her usual chocolate button bribe, and it turns out it’s VERY hard to play even easy games like chase when it’s only you.

Actually, Anne isn’t sure if she should be cross about this or not because it’s not just that Kitty won’t play Anne’s games, she doesn’t seem to want to play anything at all: she just clings to Jane’s skirt, waiting for her to finish whatever she’s doing and sit down so that she can she can fold herself up small in Jane’s lap.

She clings to a handful of Jane’s shirt with one hand and only raggedly old Pink Kitty with the other, like she’s afraid someone is going to take one or both of them away if she lets go, sucking her thumb and not saying a word.

And when she isn’t silent- which is honestly most of the time, according to Anne- she’s having huge screaming tantrums over stupid things like cleaning her teeth or putting on her pajamas. Cathy finds it hard to imagine Kitty- who was quiet as a mouse nearly all the time, even before Edmund- even raising her voice once let alone screaming but Anne assures her that it’s true.

She says that it’s giving her a headache.

Her mum and dad and Mary are officially Losing Patience, which is why Kitty is going to be with Jane for a bit.

Officially, it’s as part of Anne’s birthday treat, but Anne thinks they were planning it anyway because she heard Mary complaining to her mum, and then she heard her Mum talking on the phone to someone about being At The End of Her Tether, and she kept shaking her head and looking over at where Kitty was curled up in a little ball on the edge of the sofa, not even watching the tv (although Anne had specially foregone Rugrats for the boring baby program about the baggy pink cat because Kitty liked it).

Or, Kitty used to like it.

Now she doesn’t seem to like very much at all anymore.

Mary and Anne’s Mum and Dad don’t seem to mind Kitty being extra quiet but they do mind the tantrums- and the way Kitty has started waking up in the night crying and disturbing everybody when Some People Have To Work In The Morning Fergodsake, and the way the Reception teacher has started to call home because she’s ‘concerned’.

Jane calls round too when she hears that Anne’s dad has taken away the Barbie Kitty got for promising not to suck her thumb anymore, and says they all need to make allowances right now, whatever that means.

She and Anne’s mum drink cappuccinos- because Anne’s mum has a special expensive new machine that makes them- and Jane talks about reassurance and sense of security and unconditional love, while Anne’s mum talks about discipline and consequences and legal custody.

Eventually Anne’s mum tells Jane that she’s not a social worker anymore so she needs to stop acting like one, and that Kitty isn’t a baby any more and they need to stop coddling her, that maybe Edmund was right about some things.

And then Jane goes home.

So Kitty won’t be at the sleepover, Anne says. It’ll be just her and Cathy- and Anna.

Cathy tries to smile and look pleased that Anna’s invited too- it’s not that she doesn’t like her, exactly, it’s just that for Anne’s first sleepover, she’d rather it was just them.

It’s a bit easier to be properly happy when Anne tells Anna because Anna looks excited but also a bit surprised too- as if she’s not expecting to be asked. That makes Cathy feel better. It reminds her that Anna really isn’t out to steal her best friend, which is something Catalina reminds her of whenever she seems to need it.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, my mum said I could have two friends.’ Anne nibbles the crust of her sandwich (peanut butter) delicately, trying to make the edges of the bread straight.

‘I’ll ask Mutti when I get home- she’ll say yes, she’ll be happy I’m making friends-’ Anna beams. ‘I used to have sleepovers back home- back in Germany. With my old friends.’

‘Cool!’

Cathy takes another bite of soggy school lasagne and wonders why Anna always has to bring her old home into everything.

It’s sort of interesting to hear but it also makes her wonder if there’s anything that Anna hasn’t done or seen before everyone else.

She wants to ask what German sleepovers are like but then she doesn’t.

(Whatever they’re like, they’re probably a hundred times cooler than whatever English sleepovers.)

#the next best thing #six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction

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sasuhinasno1fan · 4 years ago

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Just because we love you, we want to protect you - Adrien AUGreste Day 27

I saw this prompt, and I had to. I meant to add the words ‘just because’ a few more times but this is how it worked, so enjoy @adrienaugust Just Because

Adrien waited in the integration room. Well, it was more of a conference room but he felt like he’d been integrated since he arrived. Early that morning, he’d gone to the bank. He’s just moved back from London, gone from the place he called home for years after the falling out with his father and his aunt taking him because it was safer for him away from his father. He’d broken up with 3 of the greatest people he’d ever dated – never mind that it had been his first relationship – and had fallen out of contact with his friends.

But he was back now and he hoped he could at the very least repair his friendships. His aunt had sent him a hefty amount of money to help him with rent until he got his first pay check but because his bank was rather old school, they asked him to come down so he could sign off on appearance into his account. He’d been waiting in line, working on his checklist of things to do for the day when men in masks and with guns appeared, ordering people to get to the ground. It would seem that modelling had helped him think in high pressure situations as he focused on helping other hostages keep calm. His talking caught their attention and the leader of the group started to head over, ready to make an example of him. But then he stopped and stared at him, getting a good look, before his eyes flashed in recognition and he looked scared. He ordered his crew to stop, that they had to leave. The police had just started to mobilize just outside so the whole group had been caught and the hostages safely removed. They questioned everyone and when he mentioned how the thieves reacted to him, they asked him to come in.

He had his lawyer waiting for his cue to show up if need be, but they hadn’t taken his phone, they’d been very pleasant in their questions and so far, it seemed like routine questions. Except he could tell it wasn’t. there was something they were waiting for him to say, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Adrien Agreste, as I live and breathe.” He looked up and felt his eyes widen at the person standing in the doorway.

“Alix!” Alix Kubdel, one of his classmates from lycée, before he left for London, was much different. Her once pink hair was now red with black tips and the many piercings, she talked about wanting to get in class adorned her face. With the short sleeves of her police uniform, he saw she had a tattoo of a bunny with an umbrella on her wrist.

“Come here you!” she said, walking in, pulling up from his chair and squeezing him into a tight hug. She might still be shorter than him, but she was still as strong. “When did you get back from London?”

“Not that long ago actually. I’m finally moving back. I was one of the hostages…”

“from the bank robbery, yeah. I heard. Best way to start out here again huh?”

“Yeah. It was really weird and now I’m stuck here with them asking me questions I don’t know the answers to.”

Alix looked over her shoulder and closed the door before standing closer to Adrien. “Ok, listen. I shouldn’t tell you this but you should at least know. The thieves said they left cause they saw you.”

“Me? You’re not telling me my dad is still that terrifying.”

“Not enough to scare thieves, but that’s not it. They kept saying you were on the top of the list.”

Adrien felt even more confused. “What list?”

“There’s this huge crime syndicate group called the Miracular. Know to every criminal and if you want to live, you don’t get on their bad side. They have a ‘No Harm’ list and I guess you were on it.”

No Harm list? Miracular? Why did…it couldn’t be.

“Um, hey. What about Marinette, Luka and Kagami? What are they up to?”

A teasing smile came to Alix’s lips. “I see someone still holds a flame for them. well, you should know that even after you left, they never broke up. Created a fashion house called the Black Cat too.” Black cats were his favourite animal. “Mari does the fashion, Luka talks to the people and Kagami deals with the business. If you still feel the same, I could give you their numbers.”

Did he still feel the same? Of course, he did. No other relationship held a candle to them. first, he liked Marinette. After a misunderstanding they became friends and he was drawn to her bright energy, kind smile and unwillingness to give up. But there were times where she seemed so awkward around him that he thought she didn’t like him. Then he met Kagami, who was quiet and withdrawn but when brought out of her shell, was passionate and unyielding. She was the one who made him aware that Marinette was actually nervous around him due to how she felt about him. It left him feeling unsure of who to choose as he liked them both. Then Luka came into the picture. Like Kagami, Luka was happy to observe but he was a good listener who would encourage him to live how he wanted. He realised he had a thing for people with dark hair, kind personalities and willingness to help those they cared about, aka Marinette, Kagami and Luka. So, he gathered them all and told them how he felt. He was expecting to be let down so he could move on, but they all said they liked him and each other and they were all fine dating all at the same time.

Telling his father had been hard and getting both his dad and Kagami’s mom to accept their relationship had been a miracle. When they all did and Adrien came out to the public as bi and in a poly relationship, he always talked about how he felt like how happy he was was based on a miracle. That’s what they called their group chat, the Miraculous. He’d been so happy with them. when the falling out with his father happened, he’d spent the night with Luka and Marinette’s parents lied to Kagami’s mother that the girls were sleeping over just so they could go and be with Adrien too. When he was told he’d move to London with his aunt, he didn’t want to have to miss them even more through a long-distance relationship so with much difficulty, he explained that he wanted to break up. That last goodbye had been tearful and heart-breaking and he wanted to take it back so many times. He just felt like he didn’t deserve to. He put them in this position, he deserved the pain. No relationship even came close to making him feel that happy again.

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

There was something though, something Alix said. The group was called Miracular. Odd name but it felt too close to Miraculous. And he was on their No Harm list. He didn’t know why but if his wild imagination was right, could they be the reason?

_____________________

“Hello, Tsurugi speaking.”

“Kagami? It’s me, Adrien.”

There as a slight shuffle before the line was silent and he had to check that she didn’t hang up on him. “Adrien?” she sounded breathless. He hoped that was a good sign. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it’s you. you went really quiet on social media not long after you left.”

“Yeah, I know. It was hard to see all my friends and not being able to be there. It hurt even more seeing you guys without me close me. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. it hurt, trust me it did, but we knew it was something you needed. Are you still in London?”

“No, I just moved back. I bumped into Alix and she told me you three are still together and running a fashion house together?”

“We are. Black Cat. We named it after you.”

His heart hurt, but in a good way. God, he missed them. “I missed you guys, a lot. No other person made me feel the way you guys did.”

“We missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Look, I know this might be a little fast and you don’t have to say yes, but would you like to have dinner with us?”

“Yes.” He answered immediately. The fact that he was trying to figure out if his lycée sweethearts were related to this syndicate escaped his mind at the thought of getting a second chance with them. he wanted that more than anything. Besides, just because the name of the group was similar to their group chat name didn’t mean it could be related right?

Getting ready for dinner felt like the first date all over again. One of Marinette’s first creations for him was a suit jacket, but she’d made it too big at the time. She’d redone it but he still kept that first one. The smooth black fabric with the gold buttons and dark blue inside liner still looked amazing to this day. He pulled it on and looked at himself in the mirror. He was actually going to do this, see the 3 people he loved more than anything again.

The drive over their large mansion felt like that scene from Crazy Rich Asians though, where the cab was glared down by high end security guards. The cab driver felt a bit lost with the Japanese being thrown around, but thankfully Adrien never forgot the language.

“I’m Adrien Agreste, here to see Kagami Tsurugi.” He said in Japanese, handing them his ID.

He saw that same recognition in the guard’s eyes and heard him yelling at the others to back off, that he was safe.

“Please drive ahead. There’ll be someone to let you in when you arrive at the front door.”

There was. He was reminded of Kagami’s home, with the servants in traditional kimonos. One took his coat and another lead in to a sitting room where there was someone on the phone. He stood there staring at the guy in front of him. Luka’s hair had always been dyed blue but now it seemed he let the black grow out and kept the blue splattered in, looking like an ombre. His hair was much longer and pulled into a low bun, letting the earrings that lined his ear be shown. He was speaking to the other person on the line in Russian, something he rarely spoke when upon the Liberty, though when anyone had really surprised him, soft Russian curse words would slip through his mouth.

Luka quickly hung up when he spotted Adrien by the door. In moments he swept Adrien into a tight hug and didn’t let go. He still smelled like the sea.

“It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too. I missed you guys a lot.”

They finally pulled away, but Luka took Adrien’s hands and walked backward until he perched himself on the arm of one of the chairs.

“3 things you liked about London.”

Adrien let out a surprised laugh. Luka would make him do that whenever he went out of town, tell him 3 things he liked about the place. “You actually remember that?”

“Of course, I do. Come on, Mari and Mi will take a while because Marinette wants to make sure they look perfect. So come on, humour me.”

“Ok, um 3 things I liked about London. 1, the Shakespeare Theatre was amazing. I saw a show in that room that’s all lit by candle light, it was amazing. You would have loved the guy outside though, pay him anything to typewrite a poem for you with any theme you want. 2, Covent Garden, mostly cause the Royal Opera House if right there once you get off the train. And 3, the history. Maybe not as much a Paris’ but still amazing. I wish I could have shown you guys everything. It took a while for me and Felix to start talking again. It was pretty lonely.”

Luka lifted his hands and pressed a gentle kiss on them. he used to do that to help Adrien calm down. “I wish we could have been there too. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

The door opened and in walked Kagami and Marinette. Kagami had grown her hair out some and so did Marinette. The designer had her hair out, flowing down her back.

“Adrien!” he was pulled into another tight hug. God, he missed this so much. He missed them so much. “I’m so glad to see you. I was so happy when Kagami said you were back in town.”

“Here to stay I hope?” Kagami asked, pulling Adrien into a hug.

“Yep. Moved back last week. I hadn’t gotten around to trying to contact everyone but I bumped into Alix and she told me you guys started a company together and passed along your numbers. I’m just glad you said yes.”

“Of course, we did. Come on, dinner’s ready to be served in the Zen Garden.” Marinette said, tugging Adrien to follow her.

“Zen Garden?”

“You can thank Kagami for that.”

“More like my mother. She insisted.”

He’d been worried that dinner would become awkward but it didn’t. they all talked with ease, just like when they’d been dating. He was sitting next to Marinette and in between courses, she’d put her hands on his leg when she was talking to him. He felt Luka nudge at his foot and he and Kagami kept sharing glances.

“So, what are you going to be doing, now that you’re back?” Kagami asked as the dinner plates were taken away and dessert was put down.

“Working with a non-profit as one of their ambassadors. I’ll be working with the others ones and heading on events for donations. And I see someone remembered my favourite dessert.”

“Well, when I mentioned to my dad that Kagami invited you to dinner, he insisted on making you your favourite cake. Passion fruit vanilla.”

He missed the taste of it. No one made pastries quite like M. Dupain.

“So, how’d you bump into Alix? I know she’s been busy studying for her detective exams.” Luka asked.

Oh right, the main reason he called. “well, just this morning I was kinda a hostage in a bank robbery.”

“What? Adrien are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. They didn’t stay for long. Apparently, they took one look at me and decided it’d be a bad idea to continue. Alix said that there’s this crime syndicate group that has me on their ‘No Harm’ list. Which makes no sense, because I’m pretty sure I don’t know any criminals that would care for me that much.”

“Just because you don’t realise how much you can affect a person, doesn’t mean the meaning behind you being around just disappears.” Luka said.

“You’ve been a huge part of our lives. Even after we broke up, it was hard to forget you. couldn’t help but worry, even just a little.” Marinette continued.

“The thought of anyone hurting you doesn’t sit well with us. We know this is a bit soon, but would you be ok with perhaps…giving us another try?” Kagami asked.

It was becoming obvious to him what he’d been thinking of before, that his miraculous relationship had turned into something when he’d been gone. But even though he was gone, he still meant this much to them. maybe it was worth it to not get a straight answer just yet.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

#adrienaugust #adrienaugreste #lukadriengaminette #getting back together #Lukanettegami run a crime syndicate

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 5 years ago

Text

Dressed Up, Part 1 of 2 (An I Give Up Deleted Scene)

Genre: Fluff / Sexually Suggestive Situations(15+)

Characters : You x Baekhyun

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Warnings: a pretty woman makeover, nudity, an attempt at seduction via video call, Houston we have a sugar daddy.

[Part 2]

IGU Deleted scenes masterlist

This shop wasn’t your usual style. What was your usual style? The sale rack at that department store in the mall. This place was definitely not your style. The second you walked in you could feel it. There was a mild and pleasant fragrance wafting around your nose as you stepped through the double french doors and from the corner of your eye you saw a woman dressed smartly with a tasteful pencil skirt and heels that were not too high for a full shift of standing on her feet.

If she made any judgements about you upon entering the store, she kept them to herself. The fact that you didn’t quite fit the look of this boutique’s typical clientele wasn't lost on you and you nearly spun on your heels right on out that door before she was able to call out her welcoming greeting.

‘Something nice. This is going to be black-tie so go buy something nice. Ask the shop ladies for suggestions…’

You couldn’t leave. The company party was tonight and you’d be damned if you would be the only one wearing a five year old sale rack little black dress from the back of your closet. You didn’t even want to think about the complaining such a move would produce from Baekhyun. You’d surely never hear the end of it.

The woman in the tasteful heels immediately approached you with a stepford-wife smile on her face. You’d taken seven steps inside and weren’t circling around toward the exit despite glancing at the first tiny price-tag that hung from the sleeve of a plain white designer blouse. It wasn’t even that fancy of a blouse. It just had round pearled buttons going down the front and looked like it might even be a bit see through in the right lighting and -- sweet jesus, it was thousands of dollars. For a white shirt. Your eyes widened on their own and immediately you shook away the queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

‘...and please, just don't look at the prices. Please just ignore that...for me, huh? Like the way I ignored the six packages of sausages you accidentally threw away because the lighting was bad and you thought that they were expired when they totally weren’t and I just ignored it and cried silently in the bathroom because of all those delicious sausages that I had just bought and you threw them all — just….’

His heavy breathing echoed into your ear and you could practically feel the heat from his lungs coating your eardrum with his frustrating memory of that single week when you’d been on an obsessive cleaning kick since watching Marie Kondo saving counter space and saving lives in the process.

‘Just ignore the price. Like I ignored the second love of my life being wasted like...like some common garbage. Please...do this for me, as the first love of my life...’

Was this really the right place? You had checked the address for the boutique three times in your phone before you even exited the taxi cab and it all seemed to match. This was the honest to god place, Byun Baekhyun, your foolishly loveable husband, had sent you to buy your evening gown for tonight’s party. You had an appointment at a salon after this and you didn’t quite know how you would get through the evening in one piece after all the strangers and their fussing.

Baekhyun had asked you to come. Baekhyun wanted you there and it was an important evening to him. A social event with the influential, the powerful, the up-and-comings in his industry and with his friends and he wanted you, his (still secret) wife on his arm. You were certain he would be dressed impeccably with a tailored suit, shined shoes, full hair and makeup no doubt. If there was one irrefutable fact about the man, it was that he thrived when he looked good. And he was going to outshine all others. The least you could do was put forth a little effort.

“Welcome, Miss,” the woman spoke up at last and your smile felt entirely too tense to look natural on your face. “Mr. Byun called ahead. If you would follow me, we have a selection of pieces for you to try.”

Pieces. They called the dresses pieces which meant they surely would carry a price-tag that rivaled some of the art that hung on the wall of that exclusive art gallery you saw next door.

And he called them ahead for you?

Of course he did. That was probably going to be the least surprising thing about this entire evening. That Baekhyun was simply unable to contain his excitement about a fancy schmancy dress up party which the both of you were attending together; of course he couldn't resist getting in on the decision making. You wondered what sorts of dresses he’d instructed them to pick. You wondered if he paid any attention at all to keeping within some sort of a budget. That sort of thing didn’t really seem appropriate in a place like this though.

You found yourself seated in an armchair and beside you sat a crystal glass with cold ice water. You began to reach for it, but quickly pulled your hand back as images of knocking the whole thing over on yourself played through your mind.

There was but a pause to breathe before the parade began. Young women with matching uniforms all carrying evening gowns in different shades and styles all walked before you with their smiles pasted firmly to their faces and their eyes all fallen down just so. You’d been so caught off guard by the fact that not a single one of them would look you in the eyes that you forgot to look at the first five dresses that passed you by.

It wasn’t until the color red popped like a bubble in your field of vision and pulled your focus down to the gown that was making its way directly in front of you and you looked down at it and...and...

Oh.

Oh my, that was…

You sat up straighter -- a gut reaction -- and the woman carrying the red gown stopped her movement the moment you flinched.

“Can I just…” You hated to interrupt their little show, but this one felt different than the others somehow. Despite with the way it hung lifelessly in her arms like a deflated balloon you could see the quality of the sheer fabric that draped over the floral lace bodice below. The neckline below the tulle plunged deep and from the look of it, the skin-tone fabric bodice gave the illusion of showing a lot more skin than it actually did.

You couldn’t possibly pull this dress off, could you?

“Ahh, the Valentino. Excellent choice — bring that one. She will wear the Valentino.” A voice boomed from somewhere behind you and the once quiet sales woman that initially greeted you was clapping her hands as she directed her army of dress-cradling women to leave the room. Only a select few remained for the fitting.

As you threw away your reservations of disrobing in front of a room full of eerily quiet strangers, you placed your first tentative foot inside the open gown and as it was pulled up and closed up around you, one thing about this dress became abundantly clear.

You weren’t just wearing the Valentino.

Oh, no.

The Valentino was wearing you.

Your first spin to face the triple mirrors that lined the wall had you under a spell and the flow of fabric that swayed and followed your spin made you feel powerful. Perhaps it was the very real skin just above your navel that was made visible by the deep plunge of the neckline below the red tulle, or perhaps it was the way the contoured lace fabric hugged your breasts, leaving them covered while giving the illusion of leaving them bare -- and the curve around your hips that cinched around your waist and flattered the shape of you -- but, wow, this dress was incredible. This dress hugged your every curve as if it were created with only you in the designer‘s mind.

This dress was...yours. Marie might even say that it sparked joy in a way that no other garment that had been placed upon your skin in this lifetime had ever done before.

The bright overhead lights brought out a sparkle in your eyes that made you feel like a hundred carat engagement ring sitting inside a locked display case of the finest jewelry store in all of the world and as you ran your fingers down the curve of your hips, finding the spot where the under dress ended up high on your thighs and the sheer red continued as if it’s only job was to tease at the idea of a covering -- you visibly swooned.

“How much is this one?” Your voice sounded dreamy, heavily affected and almost drunk, and you caught a glimpse of humanity as you made a split second of eye contact with one of the women who had helped you into the dress. As quickly as it happened, she looked away from your face and into the face of the shop woman behind you, but her cheeks were pink -- her eyelids fluttered rapidly. It was a hairline crack in her composure. The slip of the woman made your cheeks feel flush and you remembered where you were and who you were and what kinds of questions the patrons of this shop didn’t usually ask outloud. You wondered if in another life, you and this young woman who steadied her gaze away from your prying eyes, might have been friends.

“It’s within the budget, Miss,” the shop woman said.

“There is a budget?” This time your question was genuine curiosity and you lifted your brows and spun to look into her amused face.

“There is a minimum budget, yes.”

Impossible. He was impossible.

“Just tell me how many zeroes.” It felt like bargaining with the enemy at this point and the stitched floral design in the lace bodice had some sparkle to it when you rocked your hips back and forth in this lighting. It was probably hand stitched by an expert seamstress. Someone had loved this fabric with their fingertips and a needle and sterling thread and you hoped their hard work had been handsomely rewarded.

She had gone quiet behind you and you figured her bonus was at stake if she spilled the beans your dear husband had insisted she keep a tight lid on so you lifted your chin and let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’ll pay with my own card.” It looked like defeat to the casual observer. Yes, you were using the card he gave you and yes, it was funded by his money. Yes, he would get a text message that the card was used with the purchase amount and location but the benefit of using your own card meant that you would also get the same text message.

If it was too much you could always just return it then and there, right?

Maybe you could go to the mall and find something there that looked just like this if you squinted and covered one eye as you looked at it.

Your card was already swiped and yet, the dress that had just been charged was nowhere in sight. There was a second where you paused and your eyes wandered over the faces of the shop attendants with just a hint of a question on the tip of your tongue. Your card was quietly returned by the sales woman and her smile preceded her answer to your unspoken question.

“We will have it delivered to your home within the hour.”

Oh, right. Rich people didn’t carry bags. Well, except for the designer ones hung over their limp wrists with the logo facing outward for all to see.

It was for the best anyway, you had two more stops to make before checking in with the dog sitter for the evening. She, a young girl named Sunny, had been highly recommended by one of Baekhyun’s bandmates for her reliability and patience with young puppies. In fact, she was going to be taking care of two poodles that belonged to another member tonight along with your and Baekhyun’s new puppy. You tried not to worry too much for the tiny ball of fluff. After listening in on Baekhyun’s phone call with Sunny, you were certain the poor girl had been given plenty of helicopter-parent instructions from him, she didn’t need your worried phone calls to add to the mix.

You were already on your way through the double french doors of the shoe shop when you felt the vibration of your cell phone through the layers of your leather bag against your hip.

That would be it; the text message alerting the card holder that their credit card had been used to purchase a, most likely, obscenely expensive garment that would be worn exactly one time. Did you dare look? Maybe looking was a bad idea. Maybe when you looked you would lose the nerve to make your way through the double french doors of the designer shoe store that was next on your itinerary.

Your fingers felt itchy. The back of the taxi was quiet enough to hear the sound of your cell phone calling out your name, telling you to check to see what the damage was so you could begin freaking out already.

You were powerless to stop yourself and as you pulled your cell phone out of your bag you felt it vibrating again, this time for a new text messages that had just arrived.

On your screen, just above the notification that read ‘A transaction has been made on your credit card in the amount of…’, sat a new text message notification from ‘Curry & Chocolate’ and you clicked there first. Would Baekhyun have something to say about how much the dress cost? Would he shake his head that you had squandered so much of his hard earned money on something so frivolous and wasteful?

‘Omgomgomgomgomg asdflakdfja;lkjfa … which one did you get?!!!’

This was followed immediately by a message that read ‘WAIT NO DON’T TELL ME!! I want to be surprised,’ that was succeeded by every single heart emoji he could find in his phone’s keyboard.

You hadn’t actually ever done this before. Gone shopping without him, spending vast amounts of money on yourself like this, and you could see the excitement in the messages that came one after another on your phone.

‘Is it too pretty? What if you look too pretty and i faint in public?’

‘It’s not like this is our wedding day -- you can send me a picture as you’re getting ready, so i can prepare myself, right?’

His enthusiasm was adorable and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from giggling all alone in the back seat of this taxi.

‘No, don't send me a picture. I want to be surprised. I’ll just drop dead, it’s okay. I’ll die happy.’

Knowing Baekhyun as well as you did, you knew that his meandering mind would eventually settle itself on its own and you didn’t have to respond to these messages with anything except for a few heart emojis and a quick reminder that you were still not done shopping for tonight. You replied that you had just arrived at the shoe store and would be quite busy in the salon for hair and makeup shortly after.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting. The fancy dress store had lead you into a false sense of security that made you forget that designer shoes were just as ridiculously overpriced as designer fashion was and you sighed right out loud as you handed over your card to pay for the strappy heels with the blood red lacquered soles whose designer’s name you couldn't even spell without the assistance of autocorrect and you swallowed down the guilt that you would be wearing something on your feet that, if sold, would feed a family of four for several months.

Your hands were shaking when you signed the receipt and when your phone vibrated again, alerting you of the charge to your card, you cursed at your ability to do mental math as you began to tally up the totals.

Of course he texted you again after the bank did and the diamond and heart emojis that he sent did not help ease any of the guilt, despite the weirdly obvious clues that he was somehow having a fun time watching you spend so much of his money. At this rate, you would be the most expensive thing on his arm tonight — blowing out of the water, the hefty price tags of any of the fancy watches he could choose from to adorn his wrist. Even if he wore them all at once, they would not compare.

Your nails were done; hands and feet to match the red of the Valentino (because everything else should fall in line when this dress was clearly the one in charge) -- your hair was halfway there and the makeup on your face was pristine and set with products that the beautician swore would not budge all night long and all you wanted to do was curl up and take a nap by the time you were done with all the card swiping and receipt signing.

You had a schedule to keep though, and once through the doors of your home you were called back to the ringing doorbell when the deliveries started. First it was the dress, shoes; a new clutch for tonight’s essentials and when the door rang again you glanced around at all of the crisp and expensive packages, taking a quick inventory and coming up with a new question mark. Everything you had purchases today had already been received, yet the young man in the classy suit who stood at your door was holding a package in his hands with the markings from a store you had not visited today.

You were friendly enough although hesitant to receive this latest delivery for fear that it had somehow been sent in error. The man in the suit smiled wider and urged your focus down, pushed the package closer to you and his eyes begged you to just take it already. When he confirmed your name and you admitted that, yes, you were the person he sought out you really had no other move but to finally accept what he was offering.

You felt downright funny about this. The package was small; not another evening gown or pair of shoes. You’d seen enough of high priced boutiques today to recognize that this item was of a similar source. Only as you reached inside and pulled out the heavy black clamshell case, you knew immediately that you were handling expensive jewelry and you definitely had not visited a jewelry store in your shopping today.

Inside, the clamshell was velvet lined and housed a set of jewelry — sparkling diamonds, lots and lots of them. You saw teardrop earrings that matched a diamond necklace and even a delicate bracelet with the sparkling stones going all the way around and you set the whole thing down onto your granite kitchen countertop to get a good look at the way the stones took ahold of the fluorescent lights above your head and shot them back at you from all directions. The sparkles were astounding. The cuts of each stone overwhelmed and you also had to get a good breath of air into your lungs because you honestly had been holding your breath as you stared at the gorgeous jewels before you.

It was too much...but at this point would such a statement even make any difference? It was already here in your hands.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a shot of the jewelry, slightly annoyed that your phone’s camera couldn't capture the full range of sparkle, and you sent the image to your husband.

‘Please tell me this is rented.’

He didn’t respond to your text message and the longer you looked down at the jewelry, the prettier the sparkle of those stones looked once you moved in the recessed lighting of your bedroom.

The more you touched them and handled them and held the necklace up against your neck or the earrings up to your ears, the more beautiful the image of those diamonds adorning your skin made you feel and when you stood in front of floor length mirror in your spacious bathroom you were wearing them all, and you wore absolutely nothing else to compete with the sparks of light shooting off of those precious stones that decorated your body -- and oh, you felt it.

The priceless and perfect, here and now.

You felt like possibly a million bucks even well before you put on the dress and everything else this man had already provided for you.

This was his mark. The strands of diamonds that completely encircled your wrist, throwing fire with each slight movement of your hand over the bare skin as you raked perfectly manicured nails over one bare breast. You watched the light travel over your skin and you felt the traces of him all over you.

The shine of the biggest stone, seated over the hollow of your neck, where his lips and teeth had tasted your skin countless times, that stone there beckoned to you with the sweet softness of his voice - mine, mine, mine, as he often called out in the warm pauses between breaths.

An urge was brewing inside of your chest. Below where the diamond sat, deeper inside where with each of your deepest inhales could not seem to satiate. Your slow exhale only quenched the superficial need for air, but this urge ran deeper.

This was not something you and he did.

You had never allowed it before — extravagant and expensive gifts. Sure he had tried in the past but you had put up enough of a fuss about the price of things he gifted you, and the unfairness of it. That you could never match the price tag with the things you bought him. You’d made it clear that this sort of disparity irked you and he had always followed along, choosing instead gifts with more sentimental value than monetary value and you and him both treasured the meaning behind these gestures above all else.

But this—

What would be his meaning behind the diamonds?

That tonight was such a special occasion and your ensemble required only the absolute finest embellishment. Ornate, gilded, and as beautiful as the love you felt when you looked into his eyes.

Was this how Baekhyun wanted to show off his love for you? Could his intentions be this obvious?

A single faint vibration sounded from the dresser of your bedroom and you pulled your eyes from the mirror for a moment.

‘What are you doing~’

He couldn’t have possibly been bored. He was supposed to be getting ready for tonight, and you knew he had less than an hour before he had to be at the venue and you had been scheduled to arrive within the following hour to keep the photographers, who likely camped outside, in the dark about the true nature of your relationship with your very successful and very important idol.

‘I am trying on the diamonds’

It wasn’t, ‘I am googling the price’ or ‘I am returning them to the store’, instead you were uncharacteristically and alarmingly honest about just how weak this particular set of jewelry had made you. Perhaps it had been the entire day of shopping and your sense of proper wifely behavior had been thrown off, but that urge that sat inside of your chest swelled up again, inflating your lungs and making the lights from the ceiling reflect beautifully off the enormous diamond that hung around your neck.

When you turned your head, the teardrops hanging from your ears swayed with the movement and you tucked an invisible strand of hair behind your ear to watch the delicate way your bracelet slid over your arm with the motion.

‘Oh?’

His response was tentative. It was the tip of a toe dipped into a swimming pool and pulled back out again. Only to check the temperature, of course. He wasn’t about to dive in just yet.

The deliberate silence that followed that single syllable word was an advanced tactic that you had been entirely unprepared for and you held your phone in one hand looking down at the screen, simply unable to believe that he had no follow up inquiry for you.

He wasn’t even typing.

He had gone completely silent after that gentle and soft nudge that had filled you with so much curiosity and tension that it sent your thumbs down hard on the screen of your phone. You hit a few random letters and deleted them, surely giving away your obvious unrest after his ploy.

Didn’t he have anything else to ask you? Didn’t he want to know if you liked them, or maybe give you some details about how he just happened to run across this particular set of jewelry that looked as if it were made specifically with your tastes in mind when you had been given less than three days notice about this entire event and the fact that you would be attending had been well up in the air until this very morning. Did he really have nothing more to say?

You were being baited. You knew this.

‘They are very, very beautiful, Baek...’

It worked.

You had barely hit send when you saw the graphic on your screen that told you he was typing out a response.

He had been waiting it out.

‘Can I see?’

The air surrounding your bare skin had, prior to his simple question, felt quite warm and comfortable in temperature, yet the second you read his request you felt a chill run along your bare thighs; traveling quickly without a clear destination. It spread over your skin, pulling and puckering up your nipples and leaving the surface of your skin rough with goosebumps that reached well to the back of your neck.

As quick as the chill, came the heat and the surface of your cheeks felt warm to the touch as you typed out a three word response to the man who held more power over you than any other soul to walk this earth.

‘Are you alone?’

Baekhyun’s reply came without delay.

‘Mhmm’

Your fingertip stuttered for only a moment and you toyed with the decision.

You shouldn’t encourage this, the lavish spending you had always denied. You shouldn’t reward it.

And yet, a set of jewelry had never quite made you feel this way before. Sure, the tasteful diamond solitaire ring you wore on your finger was the symbol that brought all the warmth and love to the surface of your mind every time you looked down at it.

But this, it was Byun Baekhyun polished and sparkling bright and lovely around your neck. It was the years you had shared together dripping like liquid from the tips of your ear lobes and it was his long shimmering fingertips clasped around your wrist; holding on tight and promising to never let you go.

The video call was ringing and after a second of darkness the call was connected. You were rewarded with the view of his face; the top of his, already styled, light pink hair and dark eyes lined with the barest of eye makeup, applied by an expert’s hand, and his eyes focused on the view of you in front of him.

His eyes were moving and you knew from the way you held the phone and the image of yourself from the corner of your own screen, exactly what he would see. It would be the image of you, completely naked, except for the earrings, the necklace and the occasional spark of light from around your wrist.

Baekhyun’s eyes widened marginally, only enough to tell you that this was a surprise and you could hear the small puff of air exhaled through his parted lips as his eyes took in the sight of you.

He then closed his eyes and ran a hand with slender fingers over the length of his face, settling that hand over his mouth and his eyes pulled open again much too slowly. He hadn’t yet said a damn thing about what he thought about the diamonds.

Didn’t he think they complimented your skin tone perfectly? Didn’t the way that big stone pulled the delicate chain downward make your neck look pretty?

Did the sparkle of diamonds around your wrist make him want to hold your hand perhaps?

“Do you like them?” He finally spoke when he had removed his hand from over his lips and his voice was soft and low. Once the question was out he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and he bit down. His eyes darted up to touch yours once before they drifted down again and you wondered if he was looking at the diamonds anymore or…

“I love them,” you whispered and lifted a hand to show off the way sparkles caught the light.

Your declaration pulled his eyes back into yours and pulled his lips wide as he flashed the smallest smile of satisfaction. This look on his face was somewhat hard to read. Of course he was quite pleased with himself, but there was something else inside of his eyes as his smile slowly fell and evened out again and his lips parted and a tiny puff of air escaped through his mouth.

“You look so, so beautiful in them,” he inhaled through those parted lips and narrowed his eyes, looking almost intoxicated as he seemed to loosen his focus, “I knew you would, when I saw them...I just— I couldn’t help myself, baby.”

The excuse was the first bit of a clue he had given you of the incredible cost. As you had suspected when you first saw them, they had to cost a lot.

He could not help himself, he said. Their beauty was simply too great to resist when he thought of spoiling you in such a way with this incredible gift. The idea that this man loved you so much, he was powerless against such a temptation...perhaps it was you who was intoxicated.

“Were they very expensive, Baek?” The sound of your voice was soft and heavily affected now and you played with the necklace with your fingertips.

A sound betrayed him. A throaty whine, cut off quickly when he snapped his lips shut and he closed his eyes. He inhaled through his nose before you saw the up and down movement as he nodded his head. Yes. Yes they were.

“Do you always try on jewelry this way?” It came out almost as a complaint and you felt your lips pull into a smile. You enjoyed the thought that you could still have such a powerful effect on him.

“I want to buy you more,” you heard him say under a breath, his words trailing through the effort of their escape, “if this is how—”

“You did say you didn’t want to see the dress yet.” You lifted your shoulders with a little shrug as if you had merely been complying with his own request from earlier and not playing any dirty tricks involving expensive diamonds and gold and nipples and your navel and collar bones and the invitingly suggestive way you now leaned back onto your bed. The same bed that exactly four weeks prior he had pressed your back into as he pushed inside of you.

He had yet to return to you since then and you could feel the longing beginning to turn into desperation.

So that’s what the urge was. It was to be felt and touched and kissed and thoroughly had by your husband.

The same one who was staring now, cheeks flushed, so much more than the makeup he wore. He was positively pink, to match his hair and his lips.

“Do you miss me as much as I miss you?” You asked with the desperation sitting heavy on your tongue. You were certain he could hear it. You would do anything, you’d spend a million dollars just on yourself. You’d accept the luxury car he had been trying to sell you on. You’d even learn how to drive it. You’d do anything if it meant you could have just a little bit more of this man.

You laid a hand, the sparkly one, over your chest, between your bare breasts, where you could feel the steady thump of your heart. Something had changed on the other side of the screen and you lost Baekhyun's eyes for a split second as he glanced at something behind him. A noise perhaps. Did someone knock?

He returned to you promptly and leaned in too close to the screen for you to make anything of his face.

“Baby, this...this is already too much. How am I supposed to put on my suit if I can’t zip up my pants?”

When he leaned away from the phone enough for you to actually read his expression again you could clearly see the struggle written all over that pretty face. But, God, was he pretty. His hair was styled up, a rare hairstyle for him, and one that always made your knees weak.

There was an alarm ringing somewhere inside his room. You felt downright victorious when you shifted and let your knees fall open slightly, just enough to show off the full body wax you’d subjected yourself to as a part of all inclusive spa treatment paid for by the one and only EXO’s Byun Baekhyun and he covered his lips again with a hand that was much less steady than at the start of the call.

“Oh,” you heard him whisper. “Oh god, I’ve...I have made a terrible mistake.” He said softly to himself and he was looking down from the phone. He was looking behind his shoulder. He was looking down at his lap and then away from the screen again, in the other direction. “I should not have asked to see a damn thing. I should’ve left it the hell alone—why...why did I ask to see?”

He was looking all over, but he was not looking at you.

He was not appreciating the way the line of sparks around your wrist traveled slowly down your stomach, lower and deliberate in direction. The occasional glance of his eyes when he was too weak to resist touched upon your movement and you smiled to yourself.

He had worked so hard. He had spent so much. The least he could do was watch you enjoy them.

“It’s—it’s time for me to go—baby,” he huffed through gritted teeth, “I — do you… do you like them this much? I have to put my suit on and go.”

You nodded your head — mouth agape as your legs parted further and you slipped your hand lower, the tips of your fingers finding the smooth skin between your legs, parted directly in front of your phone now propped on a pillow. You were already so wet, you just needed him.

“F-Fuck—Wh—what the fuck— what are you...doing with your hand?”

He was cursing now. The sound of it fueled your desperation.

“Fuck.fuck.fuck— my manager is texting me. You— fuck— I’m so fucking hard, how dare you. ”

“What are you going to do about it, Baekhyun?” You hadn’t expected your question to come out sounding quite so challenging but with your fingers running lazy circles within your wetness you were already feeling entirely too reckless to control your tone.

“I’ll...there’s no time. I don’t have time. I have to go. He’s already outside knocking and texting me, baby, I have to...do some squats or fuck it, I’ll tuck it in my waistband. I’m usually dressed right but I guess I’m dressed up tonight.”

“Are you really going to go?” The realization that he seemed to be quickly moving around his dressing room and the grunting you heard didn’t sound so much like sexy grunts and more like genuine effort made you sit up and look closely at the screen of your phone. He had sent it down and you could see movement as hasty arms were pulled through crisp white sleeves and his slim fingers fastened buttons and stuffed his stray shirt tails into his slacks.

You saw the evidence. Baekhyun had a full-on, sex-ready erection sending a bulge of black underwear through the open zipper of his pants and your arrousal/irritation that he would deny you so easily was temporarily halted by your genuine curiosity now.

You watched as he grabbed it. Just wrapped his right hand right around and his face twisted into one of pain as he seemed to squeeze down quite hard.

“Baek—don‘t...hurt yourself,” he looked like he was choking the life out of it and your voice took on a tone of genuine concern. You had seen one sex related injury come into your practicals at the hospital just this past week. The last thing this man (you) needed was to pull or strain something and be unable to fuck you later. You hadn’t seen him for a whole month. You did not want to wait even longer because he’d gone and broke his dick just because you had teased him too much.

His face ticked toward the phone and with all the ire and annoyance of a truly sexually denied man his words clipped back at you, “I’ve owned it longer than you have, darling. I know what I’m doing.” You held back the eye roll. You could write novels of all the ways you’d seen people hurt themselves when they had been positive they knew what they were doing.

Seemingly satisfied with his self aggression, Baekhyun pulled the thing up and with his other hand began zipping up slacks and shifting and pulling fabric around the offending appendage.

When he was all done, you had to admit it was hardly even noticeable unless you were you and you knew exactly the shape, length, width, and girth well enough to make out the exact outline of that dick inside of those pants. Of course you would easily find what was yours.

“I can still see it,” you said with a smug smile and his focus shot back at you with an equally smug grin.

“And I can still see what’s mine. All decorated so sparkly and pretty just for me. I might decide to add a pearl necklace too. If you love wearing my diamonds this much, perhaps you’d enjoy walking around with my cum on your tits all night.”

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth and you gasped. You actually scandalized-church-nun gasped right out loud and the action betrayed you entirely against your will.

Perhaps more shocking than the words themselves was the sudden realization that your own arousal seemed to be the one betraying you.

The image he had put into your mind...it sounded so filthy, and so damn tempting. To be marked as his so obviously. This man was so desired by so many, yet there was only one for him.

Only you.

Could this possibly be why you took to the jewels so strongly?

Your response came out sounding more like a dare than a denial.

“You wouldn’t.”

He leveled his eyes and that frustrated look on his face shifted into one of sudden understanding. A single eyebrow bobbed above his eye.

“Ohh,” he whispered inside of a breath and the corners of his lips pulled into a smile, “oh, you do want that, don't you?”

You felt unable to formulate a response. You doubted the question was rhetorical, yet you felt too stunned and too affected to reply.

“You know, it makes me so very excited to give you pretty things. Expensive things. Things that will show off your beauty. Things that show everyone that you are mine.

I would give you anything you wanted, my love. Anything.”

“Any—thing...” your words eked out slowly and softly in response to his, but there was little meaning in them. What you did feel deep inside your chest was a stronger sensation that had began to take root. Perhaps it had already been there; when you looked at him, through their eyes, the fans...when you saw the things they said about him, the yearnings and the longing they all expressed in elaborate and vivid ways.

And the feeling that grew inside of you as you watched them and all of their desperate wanting that was, again and again, denied.

When the cameras turned off and when the concert ended and the curtains closed and the staff went home and the acting ceased, Byun Baekhyun would pick up his phone and he would call you.

You would be at home or at school or in the subway or having lunch and your phone would ring and you would get his tired sighs or the subtle smiles and the pet names and when the stars aligned and his time off would coincide with your time off, your door would open and you would get his face and his lips and his smell and his skin and they...they had no idea.

This part was for you only.

And that feeling would surge again, just as it did when you unwrapped some gift he gave you, or opened your student loan statements to find that he had, again, made the last payment for you because the due date was coming up and you were going to be late due to your work payment schedule not quite aligning with the due date of the loan payment.

That feeling, it wasn’t quite the same as pride. It wasn’t smugness, or boasting that was fueling this, but it was an intense satisfaction that you were the lucky one. The one fortunate enough to receive his love. Baekhyun always found a way to make you feel like the absolute most important human in his world and even sitting here on the phone with him wearing the expensive diamonds he gave you, you could feel the profound gratitude that your life and his life had intertwined at such an important time as it had. That you had been given the chance to be loved and to love such a brilliantly beautiful man.

It made you feel the kind of special that did not happen to many people.

Baekhyun was dressed now. He was straightening a tie in a mirror and giving another rough tug at his waistband and he stood again in front of his phone, bending at the waist to place his pretty face into the frame of your video call.

You had given up on touching yourself by now. What was the point when he wouldn’t watch you do it.

“I’ll see you in an hour. You won't be late will you?” His voice still sounded huskier than usual but he was making the shift into business mode. You could tell in the way he straightened out his face, blinking his eyes wide before squeezing them tight and shaking his head a little bit to rid himself of whatever leftover effects of you might still remain there.

He was magical sometimes, the strength of character this man had inside of him was astounding.

After a few throat clears he opened his eyes. Baekhyun lightly kissed his fingertips and blew the tiny kiss toward you and responded with a little nose scrunch when you caught the kiss in the air in front of you quickly, before it could vanish, you laid it over your heart, where you liked to keep all of his long distance kisses.

The call went black and he was gone for now and you pushed yourself to your feet to finish getting ready for tonight.

[ part 2]

IGU Deleted scenes masterlist

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fic #exo fic #exo smut #baekhyun smut #exo ff #baekhyun exo fluff #exo fluff #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun exo #exo baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #exo scenario #series #baekhyun series

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lisananao22 · 5 years ago

Text

Time for the last queen, Catherine Parr.

What I forgot to mention, I wanted to make their uniforms look differently, but not to make the differnce big. So, buttons on their pockets are different colours.

- Occupation: Bookshop keeper (Civil), Werewolf Hunter (at night)

- Single, in love with Jane

- Heavily sleep-deprived and coffee-addicted

- Will find a way to sneak some coffee in her Hunter suit

- Read pretty much every single book she sells

- Recommends recipe books to Jane, to impress her,

- But can’t cook or bake anything more complicated to save her life

- Got caught up in one operation as a teenager and had to join them

- Dated Thomas Seymour, never found out he was a werewolf (okay, it did click later)

- Got pregnant, had Maria, never heard of or from Thomas again

- Wasn’t sad when heard he’s dead

- Freaked out the first time Maria changed into a small, adorable pup

- Keeps her hidden, makes sure she’s asleep before she heads out for the night

- Feels extremely guilty about this, as well as killing werewolves now

- Was relieved after finding out Jane’s a werewolf, so she didn’t have to raise her little Maria alone

- Henry did try to hit on her, but she was too focused on her daughter, at the time

- Weapon: Spear(For quiet operations), a sniper gun (when they can afford to be loud)

- Codenames: Blueshot (sniper gun), Bluespike(spear, that’s on her, she let Anna choose it), Blue (by her Team)

- Nicknames: Cathy (everyone, to tell her apart from Catherine)

And yes, I know that her daughter name’s is Mary, but I needed something to tell them apart.

Next up will be Mary and Elizabeth. I decided to post kids in pairs.

Links to the rest:

Catherine of Aragon: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/623996830116675584/okayy-so-first-off-forgive-my-art-i-dont-do

Anne Boleyn: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/624178199247699968/now-time-for-anne-boleyn-and-yes-i-cant-draw?is_related_post=1

Jane Seymour: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/624265122957934592/janes-up-im-not-proud-about-proportions-on-this

Anna of Cleves: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/624345896942993408/ok-time-for-anna-of-cleves-if-the-picture-looks

Katherine Howard: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/624431040260374528/timer-for-katherine-howard-here-we-have-her

Mary and Elizabeth: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/626890796253265920/so-after-drawing-and-posting-the-six-queen-i

Edward and Maria: https://lisananao22.tumblr.com/post/627076090103578624/time-for-last-designs-edward-seymour-and-maria

#six #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anne of cleves #catherine howard #catherine parr #jane seymour x catherine parr #werewolves and hunters AU #parrmour

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hateswifi · 5 years ago

Text

No More Second Chances: Chapter Two

So you all voted and your wanted to read this one more! So I hope you enjoy!

The Master: Master List

No More Second Chances: Master List

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

When the plane landed, she got off the plane and got her luggage. She entered the main area of the airport, where three people with a sign stood. She smiled and walked towards the group. “Hello, are you Marinette?”

“Yes, are you my host family?” She smiled, holding out her hand.

“Yes, I’m Jon, this is my dad, Clark, and my mom Lois,” Jon said, pulling her into a hug.

“Well it’s nice to meet all of you,” Marinette said.

“It’s nice to meet you too, are you hungry? We were wondering if you want to stop for food on the way,” Lois said, warmly.

“That would be lovely,” Marinette said, following them to the car. When they were sitting in the Chick-fil-a (love their food btw), Lois informed her that she would have her own room, every other weekend Jon and her will go to either stay in Gotham with friends or Smallville to stay with Jon’s grandparents, and that she will be starting school the upcoming Wednesday,

“We wanted to give you a day to get acclimated to the time difference,” Clark said, throwing out the trash, The drive to their apartment in the city was full of light chatter. She learned that he is a year younger than and even though he lives in Metropolis, he attends Gotham Academy, he takes the early train to school. She also learned that her host parents are none other than Lois Lane and Clark Kent.

She spent the next day sleeping and getting settled. She got up Wednesday earlier than she would’ve at home. Lois was sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee and checking emails on a tablet. “Good morning, Marinette, there’s coffee on the counter. Jon will be out of the shower in a bitf for when you want to get ready.”

“Thank you Lois,” Marinette said, grabbing a mug from the cabinet, before pouring herself a cup.

“Good morning, Marinette!” Jon says cheerfully, skipping into the kitchen, his hair wet, sticking to his forehead. His smile is as bright as ever.

“Good morning, Jon!” Marinette greets back, equally cheerful.

“I can’t wait for you to see the school, it's so nice, there're so many nice people there,” Jon said, grabbing Lucky Charms from the cabinet.

“Ok I’m excited to meet your friends,” Marinette said, leaving the kitchen to get changed. She cringes at the uniform she was told to wear a black skirt, button up white blouse, a red tie, and a black blazer with the Gotham Academy symbol. She brushes her hair out, leaving it semi-wavy, and puts on light make up to cover up her tiredness. She smiled, looking in the mirror, before leaving the bathroom. Jon was waiting by the door, holding her backpack out for her.

“Merci Jon,” She says, taking her backpack. “Come on! Let’s go catch the train,” Jon said, whipping open the door. He rushed down the hall and pushed the button. The door was opening as Marinette caught up to him.

“How do you have so much energy?” She asks, leaning against the elevator’s wall.

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” Jon said, him rocking on and off his heels.

“For what?” “For you to meet my friends! And of course my best friend,” He said, the elevatoring dinging, they’re on the first floor.

“How far is it to the train station?” As they leave the lobby.

“Just around the block, we have all year-around tickets.”

“Cool, how long is the train ride?”

“About a half hour,” Jon said, taking a seat. Marinette pulls out her sketchbook, letting herself be inspired by the outfits around her. Jon put on his headphones and just to cut down on the noise of the crowded subway. It was not long before Jon tapped Marinette, drawing her out of her mind and back to reality. “It’s time to get off. School start in half an hour and it's a three block walk.” As they walk, Jon points out things and talks about everything he knows about the place. As they walk up to school, a black car pulls up Jon, runs up to greet the person. Marinette shakes her head before joining Jon.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Marinette asks, reaching the two raven-hair boys. She looked at the new boy, smiled and said. “You must be Jon’s best friend, he’s been really excited for me to meet you.” She holds out her hand.

“I’m Damian, you are?” He asks, taking her hand, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Marinette, Jon’s exchange sister? Is that how you would say it?”

“We’re hosting Marinette, so host siblings?”

“That works,” Marinette laughs.

“Class is starting soon,” Damian said curtly, ending the previous conversations.

“I have a favor to ask,” Jon smiles, bringing out his puppy dog eyes.

“And what is that?” Damain sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Since I'm a year younger than Marinette, and you both happen to be the same age. You probably have some of the same classes, would you be able to help lead her around? I really only trust you not to hit on her,” Jon pleaded, smiling widely. “I’ll owe you one, maybe help you get out of a gala or out of one of your family nights.”

“Fine,” Damian grumbles, as Jon hugs him.

“Jon, I can take care of myself ya know?” Marinette sighs, turning to walk away, leaving the two boys alone, or as alone as you can get in public.

“Sorry, I may not know her well but, she’s independent, doesn’t like assumptions, and apparently, hates liars, and will be the crap out of anyone. She’s stubborn but a complete sunshine child, like she challenges my sun shining-ness,” Jon says, quickly. “Bye.” he exclaims, skipping off.

“whatever,” Damian groaned, following the ravenette. When he found her, she was talking to the secretary.

“Here’s your time table, your locker number, and password.” the secretary says, handing her a couple of pieces of paper.

“Thank you, monsieur!” Marinette exclaims, before turning to Damian. “Are you going to be that slow all day? I don’t want to be late.”

“Are you going to be rude all day, no? Ok let's go then,” He grumbles, leaving her no room for an answer. He started walking away towards the senior hall, where their lockers are. She stared at his back, shocked, before following him. When she caught up he asked, “what’s your first class?”

“I have business first period,” She answers, quieter than before. He raised an eyebrow and sighed.

“I have that as well, why are you taking it?” He says grabbing his books.

“I want to own a business,” Marinette said, stating the obvious. “What about you?”

“It’s an easy class,” Damian says. “What’s your locker number?”

“358.” (fun fact that’s my locker number cuz I’m not creative.)

“That’s this way,” Damian says, once again, walking away. She puts her things in her new locker, before following Damian to their first class. When they enter the class there is practically nobody. “Mrs. Waters, this is Marinette, she’s an exchange student from Paris.”

“Hello Madame Waters,” She greets, shaking her hand.

“Hello, are you staying with Damian?”

“No, he’s not my host family, I’m staying with Jon… Damian, I forgot his last name.”

“She’s staying with Kents, but Jon is younger than Marinette so he asked me to show her around and probably has something with me being able to speak French,” Damian explains.

“You didn’t really come at a good time,” Mrs. Waters sighs. “I just introduced a project yesterday, Damian you didn’t pick a partner, would you be Marinette’s?”

“Madame, with all do respect, he doesn’t need to help me, just let me know the parameters of the project,” Marinette smiles.

“Nope! I’ve decided, you’ll be partners,” She smiles, adding a clap before walking behind her desk. She opened a drawer and grabbed a stack of papers, and put them on her desk before walking and opening to the cabinets. She pulled out a textbook and also put it on the desk. “This is the material, including your project, you need for this class, you’re lucky that you’re starting at the beginning of the semester.”

“Is this only a semester class?”

“Yep! Now take a seat next to Damian, and when class starts you can introduce yourself!” She says, enthusiastically. Marinette takes her seat, groans, and lays her head on the desk. Damian rolls his eyes at her dramatics. He was about to comment, when the bell rang. Mrs. Waters went through role call, Marinette responded when her name was called, and didn’t flinch at the mention of his last name.

“Good morning student, as some of you may have noticed, we have a new student. Ms. Dupain-Cheng can you come to the front?” Marinette drags herself out of her seat, still feeling the anxiety of a new school and the tiredness from the change in time zones.

“I would prefer to go by Marinette Fu, but you may all call me Mari. I’m part of the exchange program from Paris, my host family are the Kents, and that’s all you really need to know,” Marinette says conscily, before walking back to her seat.

“Perfect! Now moving on,” Mrs. Water says, adding a clap for emphasis. Before starting her lesson plan for the day. As they were leaving Mrs. Waters pulled her aside. “Marinette, I’m excited to have you in my class for the rest of the year, I’ll also be your English teacher. Also if you need any help don’t be afraid to come talk to me!”

“Thank you Madame, have a good day,” Marinette says, waving goodbye.

“Are you quite finished, we’re going to be late for our next class,” Damian says, pushing himself off the wall, where he had been leaning.

“How do you even know we have the same next class?” Marinette asks, adding an eyeroll.

“It was on your desk during first period, after that we have a different class, but it’s back in Mrs. Waters’ room,” Damian says. “Then we have one different class after lunch.”

“Whatever, I’ll sit with Jon at lunch,” Marinette sighed as they entered the next class. The classes were as good as classes can be. They walked to lunch together, before Marinette was dragged off by Jon, Damian joining, with a sigh, soon after.

“Sooooooooo! What do you think about school? What about Damian?! Has he been nice to you?” Jon say, excitedly, almost vibrating.

“Everything and everyone has been great. Well, Damian is a bit grumpy, but he’s bearable,” Marinette answers with a small smile.

“It’s not like you’re an angel either!” Damian defends.

“Whatever,” She says with an eye roll. “See what I mean.”

“Noo! You two have to get along, I wouldn’t be able to stand my sister and best friend fighting,” Jon whined.

“Speaking of fighting, Damian, when do you want to work on the project?” Marinette asked, ignoring Jon’s complaints.

“You should work on it at our apartment!” Jon exclaims, earning a raised eyebrow from Damian.

“We would get more work done there than at my house,” he agrees with a sigh.

“Ya! Your sibling can be loud,” Jon adds.

“But so can you,” Damian deadpans.

“Jon, as much of a sunshine you are, this isn’t your project, kay?” Marinette cuts in.

“He’s right though, my brothers are unbearable,” Damian groans.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three.”

“I had none, now I have Jon around,” Marinette smiles.

“You think of me as a brother!” Jon exclaims, tackle-hugging her.

“Be careful! I need to breathe765,” Marinette said, before opening her mini bag, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Well then, it’s settled, you’ll come home with us this afternoon,” Jon exclaims, before standing up to throw away his trash.

“I’ll call Alfred,” Damian says. Marinette follows Jon and throws away her stuff. When they got back, Damian was hanging up. “Time for our next class.” He states, standing.

The last couple of classes were just as boring as the first had been. She had been so happy to leave, just to realize her and Damian had a project to work on.

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

Next chapter coming soon, don’t be afraid to leave comments, asks, or to chat with me.The support is amazing! (also quarantine is boring as heck)

Permanent Tag:

@ash-amg @bee-wrecker @damianette-is-life

Tag List:

@sturchling @maribat-is-lifeblood @sonif50 @thestressmademedoit @myazael @mochinek0 @messymessyml @amayakans @weird-pale-blonde-person @animalgirl05 @justafanwarrior @kalianoble @mewwitch @elmokingkong @noirdots @itsmeevie01 @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @tis-i-beanbandit @thetinymoonflower @whats-she-gonna-post-next @alwaysnumberonetruth @hauntedwintersweets @not-annoying@wargraymon0709 @tired-butterfly @heldtogetherbysafetypins @literalfantrash

#maribat #batfam #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x damian #damian wayne #ml x dc #jon kent #marinette x batfam #miraculous #miraculous ladybug

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