#not voting means youre okay with whatever outcome there is
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mymoodwriting · 7 months ago
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13.2k, vampires, witches, magic, threats of death, blood, cocky behavior, teasing, workholic, abuse, workplace abuse, verbal abuse, lack of sleep, stress, work related stress, fluff, near-death experience, character death & resurrection, blood drinking, biting (@starillusion13 @peanutpinet)
“We should get a Queen?”
“What?” Johnny questioned. “Why all of a sudden?”
“I mean, there are a lot of benefits to having a Queen.”
“We’re doing just fine.”
“I’m just saying… it would be kinda cool.”
“Then go tell Taeyong.”
“I don’t know if he’d like the idea. It’s a whole thing, and we’d have to find a witch willing to do the spell. I doubt it’d be cheap too.”
“What wouldn’t be cheap?”
Doyoung walked into the living room, taking a seat on one of the couches and letting out a relaxing sigh. Blood still stained his lips, but he was quick to lick away the remains.
“Haechan was saying we should get a Queen.” Johnny stated. “And it definitely wouldn’t be cheap.”
“Why would we get a Queen? We don’t need one.”
“But it would make our lives easier.” Haechan remarked. “And we’d be more powerful.”
“It’s dangerous.” Doyoung reminded. “Although it’s not entirely a bad idea.”
A moment later the door opened and the others piled in. They just had dinner and now needed to let the blood settle down.
“Taeyong…”
“Hm? What is it, Haechan, still hungry?”
“I… kinda… but I was wondering… wouldn’t it be a good idea to get a Queen?”
“Wait, why would we need a Queen?” Yuta asked. “What’s that all about?”
“A Queen can be very beneficial for a nest. A source of power and blood.” Doyoung explained. “With one we wouldn’t need to hunt as much, and our hunger would be better satiated. We’d be able to blend in with humans a lot better too.”
“That sounds great, so why don’t we have a Queen?”
“Well as you can see a nest doesn’t just have one. We’d need a witch to perform a ritual, and that itself is dangerous.”
“Well, I like the idea.” Jungwoo admitted. “I’m down to give it a shot.”
“I second that.” Mark added.
“Did you all not hear about how this is dangerous?” Jaehyun reminded. 
“How dangerous can it really be?”
“We can wind up dead if this doesn’t work.” Johnny said. “Why do you think it’s not a common thing among vampires? Whole nests end up dead in pursuit of a Queen.”
“Shouldn’t we at least take a vote on this?” Doyoung questioned. “It doesn’t seem like everyone is opposed to this deadly idea.”
“Sure.” Taeyong agreed. “We can do this anonymously.”
The boys wrote down their choice on a piece of paper and added it into an empty glass. Taeyong was the one to count the votes afterwards. Lucky for them their numbers were odd so there would be no tie.
“Before I check the votes, are we all going to be okay with whatever the outcome is?” Taeyong questioned. “We could potentially end up dead.”
“Considering we’re immortal beings.” Mark said. “The threat of death seems more like a challenge than something to fear.”
“I swear, how did I end up with you guys?”
Taeyong pulled out the pieces of paper one by one and showed the others, placing it in one of two piles. In the end, the majority voted yes to embarking on this dangerous endeavor. The first step would be finding a powerful witch. Fortunately Taeyong knew of one, so they could at least deal with that hard part. The next night they made their way to a witches coven. It wasn’t common for both their kinds to meet, or to be friends, but Taeyong was an outlier.
“Irene, it’s so good to see you.” Taeyong embraced the witch in a hug. “How are the girls?”
“We’re doing well. I was quite surprised by your message though. What could you possibly need from me?”
“My nest and I want a Queen.”
“Ah, you’re serious?”
“Yes. Is that something you could help me with? I understand if-”
“It’s your nest on the line. If you’re serious about this then I won’t stop you. Besides, what other witch can you trust with such a spell.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on now. You’re all invited in.”
The boys entered the house, being mindful of their surroundings. Irene led them down to the basement where she had all her ingredients and the space for performing spells. While Irene gathered her ingredients, and had her girls help, she spoke of what came next.
“Do you know what this spell entails?”
“No idea.” Haechan answered.
“But you are aware of its dangers, right? You could end up dead.”
“Since this isn’t common, we don’t know much about it.” Jaehyun said. “I wouldn’t mind you enlightening us on the situation.”
“Of course. You see what makes this spell so dangerous, and the whole Queen thing in general, is that you are bonding your very being to another. The spell basically fractures your soul and in order to complete it you must find a Queen. If you don’t, well, you end up dead.”
“How long do we have?” Johnny asked. “Once the spell is done?”
“About a week.”
“Seriously? That’s not so bad.” Mark commented. “How is it that a nest winds up dead because of this?”
“Oh, you think it’s easy? You better get that idea out of your head or you will end up dead.”
Irene had one of her girls draw symbols on the floor while she began to mix ingredients. She had the boys sit down in a semi circle.
“And you’re all sure you want to do this? Cause once I cast this spell there is no undoing it. Even once you find your Queen, you can never remove her.”
“We understand.” Taeyong confirmed. “There is no going back once we do this. So you can proceed.”
“Alright. First, I need you all to spill your blood into this bowl.”
One of the girls handed over the bowl with a knife, and the boys passed it down the line. It wasn’t exactly sanitary, but with their healing capabilities it wasn’t an issue.
“As I mentioned before, this spell will weaken you. The first day or so you won’t feel it, but afterwards you will. Your hunger will disappear, and sunlight will be more of an issue for you. What you need to do within that week, before you lose all your strength, is to find your Queen and feed her the potion that is created as a result of this spell.”
“Why do you make it sound like it’s so difficult to find a Queen?” Jungwoo questioned.
“Because it is. You can’t just pick any random person to fulfill the role. They must be compatible with you, all of you.”
“Oh.”
“Which is honestly the most difficult part of all of this. Once the spell is complete I can point you in the right direction of your Queen, but unfortunately I cannot give you a name or address. Time is of the essence, and you must be swift.”
“If you can’t give us a name, then how exactly are we supposed to find our Queen?” Yuta wondered. “This sounds like a wild goose chase.”
“I’m afraid I don’t really have an answer for that. I’m not a vampire with a Queen, but from what I’ve heard you’ll know when you find the one.”
“Pretty vague, don’t you think?”
“If you don’t wish to attempt this, I can stop here.”
“No. We continue.” Taeyong stated. “Now that we have more details of the dangers, we’ll make sure to act accordingly.”
“Very well.”
The bowl was returned to Irene and she mixed up the contents once more. When she finished she had it placed between her and the vampires. The girls sat beside her, and Irene began the spell.
“Last chance to back out.” Irene commented. 
“We got this.”
“Okay. This will hurt you as we begin, so bear with me.”
The candles that had been set up were suddenly lit and all other light sources were turned off. The girls began chanting, and when they opened their eyes there was nothing but a white glow. As far as they knew nothing was really happening, that is until they began to feel a pain in their chest. It felt like someone was ripping out their heart, but there was no way to stop the feeling. The fire from the candles grew in size, beginning to combine with the other flames. For a moment they were all blinded by the light of the fire, and then it all seemed to travel to the bowl, burning the contents into ash. Or at least that’s what they thought. 
Once the fire was gone the candle light went out, and all the other lights turned on. The boys could take a normal breath as the pain in their chest began to subside. Irene paid them no mind as she took the bowl and poured its contents into a small vial. She swirled it around for a bit before placing it in a small box and grabbing the bowl, returning to the others. Her girls pulled out a map and set it down on the floor. Irene lifted up the bowl and cast another spell before pouring out the remaining contents onto the map. The strange crimson liquid stained the map for a moment before it began moving. It created a small circle on the map and spelled out the name of the marked location.
“That is where you can find your Queen.” Irene held out the box to Taeyong. “When you do find them, they need to drink the contents of this vial, and then you need to stop their heart.”
“What?”
“What? Did you think your Queen was going to be human? No, no, they need to become a vampire like you, and you know how that process works. Once they turn, you must all drink from them in order to complete the ritual. All this must be done within a week. Understood?”
“Yeah, we got it.” Taeyong took the box. “I guess we should get going.”
“Indeed. And one last thing, Taeyong.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t die.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
🖤
For the time being they felt no different than their usual selves, although the clock was ticking. The trip to their destination wasn’t a long one, but they lost half a day. Vampires wouldn’t burn in the sunlight, unless they were exposed to it for too long. Thankfully they arrived during the night, not having to worry about anything but the task at hand. They found themselves in a small little city, a few skyscrapers painting the skyline. It was a beautiful place, but the size was a bit concerning. Their Queen was here, but they had no idea where to start.
“So, what should we do first?”
Haechan was the first to step out of the car, stretching his limbs and getting some fresh air. The hyungs had already picked out a hotel to stay at, getting the penthouse suite, now they just needed to check in. Haechan took in the sights, enjoying the view around him, and thus not aware of his surroundings. As he took a few steps back he wound up crashing into someone. Papers scattered to the floor, and both parties fell to the ground.
“Fuck, watch where you’re going.” Haechan hissed.
“Sorry, so sorry, you’re not hurt are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Haechan noticed a young girl frantically picking up the papers. She didn’t even look at Haechan as she apologized. This pissed him off, but before he could make a comment the girl winced, grabbing her hand and revealing a small paper cut. He saw a dot of blood bloom on her finger, and then he caught a whiff of her scent. 
“Oh…”
“I’m so sorry, but I really have to go.” The girl sucked on her finger for a moment before scrambling to get all her papers and stand up. “Sorry again.”
Haechan watched as the girl rushed into the hotel, disappearing from view. He was still on the ground, staring down the path she had gone. Mark soon came over and helped him get back on his feet.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s her.”
“What?”
“That girl… she’s the one…”
“What girl?”
“The one that just went into the hotel… she’s our Queen.”
“What nonsense is he spewing now?” Johnny said. “We just got here.”
“Listen to me, it’s her.”
“How do you know?” Doyoung questioned. “Or are you just jumping to conclusions?”
“I’m telling you, it’s her. Whoever she is, her blood, her scent, it’s calling to me… I have to go after her.”
“Easy there.” Jaehyun came over to grab Haechan. “You were just a rude prick to her, so I doubt she wants to see your face. And I’m pretty sure you’re just hungry.”
“Our hunger is practically nonexistent now. I’m not entirely hungry for her blood, but for her… although I wouldn’t mind a taste either.”
“Well, you’re not going after her.” Taeyong stated. “Some of the others can follow this lead of yours and the rest of us will check in.”
“But-”
“I’m not going to repeat myself.”
The boys all got their things and made their way into the hotel. Although Haechan was more focused on following the sweet scent. He wandered off just a bit before Johnny grabbed him, but it did provide answers. A sign in front of the hotel ballroom stated that there would be a fashion show there in three days. People were coming in and out of the room, meaning things were getting set up, and Haechan was certain the girl he had run into was in there.
“She’s there. I know it.”
“If you say so, but you don’t get to go.”
“Please, please, I’ll behave.”
“Taeyong already told you no. Now come on.”
Johnny informed the others about Haechan’s discovery, and his theory. With all that said Taeyong decided he’d investigate this, taking Yuta and Jaehyun with him while the rest checked in and took their bags upstairs. The trio made their way over to the ballroom entrance, sneaking inside when no one was looking. Once inside they could see that the stage was being set up, along with the tables and chairs. No one paid them attention, at least not at first. Since they were just standing around it was assumed they hadn’t been given a task yet.
“You three, what are you doing?”
“Oh, don’t mind us dear.” Taeyong compelled. “We’re just looking around.”
“If you’re not here to help with the show, then leave.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?”
“The person in charge of this show. Everything has to be perfect, so if you’re not going to help, leave.”
“I-”
“Now!”
The girl snapped, startling all of them, and pointing at the door. That’s when they noticed the bandaid on her finger, confirming she was the one Haechan had spoken of. Although what had Taeyong and the others perplexed was her immunity to their powers. It could just be a side effect of the spell, but they couldn’t be sure that was the case. She started ushering them out when another voice spoke up.
“Y/n, what are you doing!?”
You quickly turned around to face your boss, Vevee, with a big smile on your face. She walked over to where you were and you began to explain.
“I was just kicking out these intruders. Everything is still going according to schedule, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Is that so?”
“You must be in charge.” Taeyong spoke, stepping up to introduce himself. “I’m Taeyong, I was hoping to meet you.”
“And you are?”
“Here to help. I see you’re having a fashion show, and I have some wonderful models for you.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes. Let me introduce Jaehyun and Yuta.” Taeyong gestured to the other two. “Of course I have a few other models, but they’re up in the penthouse.”
“Ah, so you’re the one who stole the penthouse suite from me.”
“Apologies, but I need the best for my models.”
“Vevee, we already have models for the show.” You interrupted. “We don’t need anymore.”
“A few more won’t hurt.” Taeyong compelled. “Right?”
“… you are right, why don’t you bring down your boys tomorrow morning. It will be easier to see if they’re any good once the stage is set and they can walk the runway.”
“Of course. I’ll return in the morning.”
“Vevee.” You said. “We-”
“That’s enough. This is my show, now get back to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Vevee offered Taeyong a smile before returning her attention to the stage being set, giving out some directions. You were glaring daggers at this Taeyong guy with his dumb models. He only gave you a smirk in return. Things may have worked out for him, but you knew you were gonna get an earful about this later.
“I’ll see you later, y/n.” Taeyong smiled.
“Fuck off.”
Taeyong left with the other two in tow. It wasn’t until they were in the elevator going up that they questioned what Taeyong had done. He said he’d explain once they gathered with the others. It seemed the rest were settling in well, and Taeyong gathered them all in the living room, gazing out at the skyline while he waited.
“So, how did it go?” Haechan questioned. “Did you find her? Was I right?”
“Maybe…”
“Yes!”
“Wait, what?” Johnny stated. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, but there was something about this girl. My compulsion didn’t work on her. I thought maybe it was because of the spell, but my power did work on her boss.”
“Don’t forget to tell them about the other thing.” Yuta mentioned.
“What other thing?” Doyoung asked. “What did you do?”
“Tomorrow morning you’re going to walk the runway, see if this lady likes you for her show.”
“What! Why!?”
“This y/n girl is working the show. So if we’re a part of it too, it will give us a reason to be around her. I’m not sure if she is the one, but we need to get more information. Even if it’s not her, participating in this fashion show will allow us to mingle with many other individuals in the city, making it easier to find our Queen.”
“I always wanted to walk a runway.” Jungwoo commented. “I’m down.”
“Then we’re in agreement. You all better be on your best behavior.”
“We will.”
🖤
Come morning the boys made their way down to the ballroom. The boss was nowhere to be seen, but they quickly found you as you were glaring at them from the stage area. Taeyong merely smiled and waved, deciding to help himself to the snack table with the others. He knew it would be best to socialize with all the other staff members, but before he could say anything he began to overhear some gossip.
“Did you hear what y/n did last night?”
“No, what happened?”
“She was trying to kick out these guys, and said this was her show.”
“No way.”
“Right? I mean, she’s not technically wrong. She does everything for Vevee, this practically is her show.”
“Sh! If the boss hears you-”
“Vevee won’t be here until, like, noon. Besides, she won’t take it out on us. You know Vevee blames y/n for everything. She got scolded over not getting the penthouse suite, and then for trying to get rid of those potential models. I swear, I don’t know how that girl puts up with such a boss.”
“I guess the pay is good.”
“I don’t think any amount of money is enough for being Vevee’s personal assistant.” 
“That’s true. Let’s get back to the green room, those models should be here soon, and I heard they’re hot.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to meet them.”
After overhearing that Taeyong glanced back over to the stage, seeing you give direction on light placement, speaking into a headset as well, and then answering the questions of the other employees that came up to you. If he didn’t know otherwise he would think you were in charge, especially since the real boss was nowhere to be found.
“Ya! Mr. Intruder.”
Taeyong didn’t realize you were talking to him until you walked down the runway to get closer to him, yelling and waving your arms around. He put on a cocky smile and walked over.
“Yes?”
“Get your boytoys to the green room for hair and makeup. There are some test outfits they can wear, so I want them ready to go in twenty minutes.”
“And where is your boss?”
“Upstairs sleeping. Any other stupid questions?”
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
“What made you think otherwise? Now go. You’re down to nineteen minutes.”
You gave Taeyong a fake smile and got back to the others, continuing where you left off. Knowing Vevee her alarm was probably going off, so she would be down soon. You still remembered how she fought you about staying at the hotel, especially since it wouldn’t be the penthouse suite. You had to put your foot down though, knowing she’d be hella late if she was at her own place, and at least like this you knew where to find her in case of emergencies. Or you could easily get her out of bed yourself. For now, you’d give her the benefit of doubt and hope she came down on her own.
🖤
Taeyong gathered his boys and went to the green room. There were plenty of others around, but he paid them no mind. A few of the stylists around took the boys, starting to get their measurements and figuring out what outfit to put them in. One almost got him, but he wasn’t a model for the runway. He wandered around a bit, taking in the other models, and looking at the official outfits for the show. Last night he had done a bit of research, getting more information about this Vevee. The lady had quite the reputation. Her work was widely praised, although it wasn’t easy to get kindness from her, even if it was fake. Taeyong might not have gotten the chance to be here if not for his powers. Which reminded him.
“You, pretty girl, get me an iced americano, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
He needed to test his powers a bit more, just to make sure if last night was a fluke or something. A while later he returned to the others, finding them seated as they were getting the last few touches of makeup. 
“Alright, models, please make your way to the stage for the test run.” You came to the green room, barking out orders. “Let’s move. This isn’t the big show but you all better act like it.”
“I was wondering where you were.” Taeyong commented. “I wanted you to do my hair and makeup.”
“I’m not a stylist.”
“Are you sure? It seems like you can do every job here.”
“Just get your guys to the stage.”
“Of course.”
You didn’t hang around the green room for too long, returning to the main stage and feeling relief upon seeing Vevee present. You quickly went to get her a coffee before approaching.
“Where are the models?”
“They’re backstage right now. Shall we start a test run?”
“Yes. I need to see who actually knows how to do their job.”
“Of course.” 
You spoke into your headset to give backstage the green light on starting the test run. The lights went down and the first model walked down the runway. You stood by Vevee’s side, examining the models as well to make sure everything went smoothly. For the most part you knew who was on stage as you had worked with these models before, but when you saw Taeyong’s boys you were a bit taken aback. You didn’t care much for them, but now that you were really seeing them, you were quite stunned by their beauty. This wasn’t even rehearsal, but they were good, and you hated it.
“So, what do you think Vevee?”
“Get them all on the stage, now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Through your headset you told backstage to have the models come onto the stage. Vevee looked them over, pointing at the ones she wanted gone. All the new boys remained on stage to your disappointment. 
“Alright. I want outfits fitted for them.”
“Yes, Vevee. I’ll grab a handful for the promotional shoots as well.”
“Might I volunteer my boys.” Taeyong suggested. “Some new faces should draw attention.”
“I’m against the idea.” You stated. “It’s better to stick with models we’ve used before as people recognize them and trust them.”
“On the contrary. Something new will entice others to come. Besides, you have to admit all my boys are quite the face card.”
“Vevee-”
“That is an excellent idea. Y/n, have the boys prepped for the shoot.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. I’m off then, I have a lunch engagement. You can handle everything here, right y/n?”
“Yes, Vevee.”
“I’ll stop by tonight for a proper rehearsal.”
“We’ll see you then.”
You only threw a glare at Taeyong before ordering the models back and following them. A few things needed to be changed, and you needed the stylist to prepare the new boys. Taeyong stayed with the boys, but then he got curious as to where you were, so he went off to find you. He asked around, being told you were in one of the green rooms. He knocked before entering, going to a few rooms before finding the one. He found you leaning against the wall, the smell of coffee in the air.
“I see you finally got a break.”
Taeyong didn’t get a response, figuring you were ignoring him, which wasn’t a first. He approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder when the cup of coffee suddenly fell from your hand. It spilled to the floor and you started to slide down the wall. He quickly caught you, seeing that you were passed out.
“Y/n?”
“Hm… what the fuck!”
You opened your eyes and came face to face with Taeyong. You screamed and shoved him away from you. For a moment you lost balance but were able to catch yourself.
“What are you doing here!?”
“I was looking for you.” Taeyong explained. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You-”
“What do you want?”
“I… are you okay? Looking at you now, you seem exhausted.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You were sleeping standing up.”
“A quick power nap.”
“Did you even sleep last night?”
“No, I pulled an all-nighter to get things properly set up for today. Then I had to be back here for the final touches and to make sure Vevee woke up on time. I swear, she drives me insane sometimes. She kept fighting me about staying at the hotel, but I needed her to be here since she couldn’t possibly be late if she was so close to the event space. And- why am I even telling you all this. Are your boys done with hair and makeup?”
“How are you even functioning right now?”
“I’ll take that as you don’t know, so now I gotta go look into it myself. Move.”
“Y/n.” Taeyong grabbed your arm. “Go to sleep.”
“Fuck off!”
“How… you’re only hurting yourself if you keep doing this! Vevee-”
“Took me in after I graduated, when I had nothing! She gave me a job and helped me build myself up from scratch! So don’t you dare question me! You’re working for her too now, so we’re in the same boat.”
“But-”
“Don’t act like you care about me or something, you’re just here for a paycheck. Now leave me alone. Gosh, I’m gonna need to get someone to clean this room now.”
You pulled yourself out of Taeyong’s grasp and left the room as you called for maintenance to clean up the spilled coffee. You checked the time, needing to check on the models. Taeyong stayed put, once again left in shock over how his powers didn’t work on you, but also worried about the state he had found you in. He didn’t even notice until now how much you actually did, and how you weren’t really credited for any of it. He was just having fun by teasing you, but maybe he needed a different approach.
“Is everyone almost done?”
You went to the green room where the models were, glancing at each one to make sure they were ready. The photography crew would be here soon and you would have to focus on them while they set up so the models had to be ready. Everything was still on schedule, so you were at least grateful for that. You told the stylists to bring the models out to the stage once done. You then ducked out to make sure the photoshoot area was set up and met up with the crew once they showed up. You made sure everything was set up well, and then took note when the models arrived. They were quite intrigued by the new faces, but of course whatever Vevee wanted, she got. Although the photographer didn’t seem to mind the new boys.
“How do I look?”
Haechan couldn’t help but approach you, feeling exceptionally handsome today. You only rolled your eyes at the question.
“Presentable, now pay attention.”
“To what?”
“The shoot. You’re new models, I doubt you’ve done this stuff before.”
“I’ve never been a model either, but I’m a natural at it.”
“What?”
“Don’t you agree.”
“I swear you’re all just trouble.”
“Only to you.”
“Honestly. So if you’re not models then- Ya!” You ran over to Yuta, taking the drink out of his hand. “What are you doing!?”
“Huh?”
“You just got your makeup done, why are you drinking?”
“It’s just water.”
“Yeah, and now I need to touch up your fucken lips. None of you are professionals.”
You went over to one of the stylists lingering around, dragging Yuta with you. The stylist handed over the kit they had and you found the match for Yuta’s color. You immediately began to touch up his color.
“Is there something you can’t do?”
“Keep you all in line apparently. Don’t fuck up your makeup again, got it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“So, can I buy you a drink later?”
“No.”
“Please. When do you get off work?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
“Go on now, you’re next.”
You dragged Yuta over to the shoot area, watching from the sidelines. Now you could take a breath cause being so close to that boy was making your face burn. Usually you kept yourself composed around the models, you had worked with them before, but all this new talent, it was taking you back to when you first started. It had been so fun to work alongside Vevee, setting up shows, taking part in every aspect so you could handle any emergency. Now everything was just a job, and it was exhausting. Still, seeing the final product was worth it.
“You know, I don’t think you actually had that coffee earlier.”
“So?”
“Here.” Taeyong held out a cup of coffee. “Maybe you can have some now.”
“Thanks.”
You didn’t want to accept anything from him, but the caffeine wouldn’t hurt. To your surprise it was your order, but you weren’t gonna ask how he knew that. Instead, you might as well get some information.
“May I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Who are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“None of your boys here have any experience as models, so you’re definitely not some sort of agency. I know Vevee only let you participate cause they’re good looking and-”
“You think my boys are good looking?”
“Why are you here? Cause as far as I’m concerned you somehow talked your way into this show, but it was never your intention to be a part of it.”
“Perceptive, aren’t you?”
“So I’m right.”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why are you here? What do you get out of this?”
“My boys and I came here looking for something.”
“Well I hope you find it, and fast, so you can get out of my life.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Very much.”
“When I find what I came for, I’ll let you know.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Y/n.” Jungwoo came over. “Can you touch up my makeup?”
“Go ask one of the stylists.”
“But I saw you fix up Yuta.”
“So?”
“Please, I want it to be you.”
“So you can do makeup.” Taeyong commented. “You’re a true ace, aren’t you?”
“Shut it. Jungwoo, go ask someone else.”
“But-”
“Let her drink her coffee, go on now.”
“Fine.”
You rolled your eyes when you saw Taeyong’s smirk. You wished you could walk away but you had to keep watch of everything. Once the shoot was over you were relieved, finally able to get away from the boys. Everything was done for the day, but you still had work to do. All the other employees checked in with you before leaving for the night. You were back in one of the green rooms, working on your laptop and going over the pictures from the shoot. You needed to pick the best ones to send over to marketing. The goal was to have the promotional period out by tomorrow morning, so it was going to be a long night.
🖤
“She doesn’t like us very much.” Jaehyun commented. “Are we sure it’s her?”
“We’re not.” Doyoung reminded. “But it seems likely.”
“Your powers still work on others, right?” Taeyong questioned. “I’ve had no problem compelling people today, but it never seems to work on y/n.”
“Oh, that’s a first.” Johnny mentioned. “Unless she has anti vampire measures.”
“I doubt it’s that.”
“We should take her out to dinner.” 
“Didn’t you already get rejected, Yuta?”
“Shut it.”
“You gonna try again?” Mark teased. “I doubt she’ll say yes.”
“Maybe not one-on-one, but all of us, like some company dinner.”
“She’s already suspicious.” Taeyong mentioned. “So I doubt she’ll wanna be near us.”
“Suspicious?” Johnny questioned. “Of what?”
“Us. She knows you’re not models, and is questioning our reason for being here.”
“Well, we don’t plan to stick around for long.” Jungwoo said. “So it’s fine.”
“It’s not considering she’s most likely our Queen. We need to get along with her, it’s in our best interest.”
“We need her to survive.” Haechan remarked. “We’re gonna turn her anyway.”
“And don’t you think it’d be better if we were on good terms before then. Or perhaps we can get her to agree to all this.”
“Oh, that would be good.”
“Exactly. So be nicer to her tomorrow, understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
Only a few actually slept that night. Vampires were mostly nocturnal creatures but things had been different the last few days. Taeyong stayed up, staring at the city and the night sky. Every day that passed was dangerous, but he was certain of his choice, he just wanted things to go well. Before sunrise Johnny and Jungwoo decided to head down to the ballroom to look around the show area before everyone else showed up. They messed around on stage for a bit before heading to the back. The outfits they had worn the other day were just for practice, so they were curious if the ones for the show were around somewhere. As they searched they came across an interesting and concerning sight.
“Y/n?”
The boys wound up finding you passed out at one of the tables in a green room, sleeping on your laptop. They carefully went to your side and shook you awake, accidentally startling you and making you jump out of your seat.
“What time is it! How did you get in here?”
“Easy, easy, we were just looking around.” Jungwoo explained. “It’s barely like five in the morning.”
“Five… good.”
You exhaled and sat back down, turning on your laptop to make sure you had finished everything last night. You had, which meant everything was still on schedule.
“What are you doing here so early?” Johnny asked. “Didn’t you go home last night?”
“No, I was busy.”
“Are you serious?”
“You didn’t answer my other question though, what are you two doing here? Rehearsals don’t start til eight.”
“Just curious, but since we found you, how about breakfast?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Okay. I wasn’t really asking. So either you come with us to have breakfast, or we’re gonna mess around rehearsal.”
You glared. “I’d call your bluff, but you guys don’t know Vevee, or care. So fine, but we can get the hotel breakfast, that way I’m not far from here.”
“That works for me.”
You really were reluctant to share a meal with these guys, but you couldn’t trust they’d behave today unless you did this for them. The three of you went to get breakfast, although when you tried to get coffee they didn’t let you, saying you had been drinking enough caffeine as of late. You complied and got some food. Even if you sat and ate with them you had no intention of making conversation, but it was hard to keep quiet.
“How many hours did you sleep?” Jungwoo wondered.
“Enough.”
“You should have at least slept on the couch. Probably more comfortable.”
“I’ll sleep after the show.”
“That’s not exactly better.” Johnny said. “You’re compromising your health.”
“And you care because?”
“It’s concerning.”
“I’m fine, so no need to worry.”
“Vevee runs you into the ground everyday, how can you-”
“I’m not talking about work with you.”
“Fine. In all honesty though, you do an amazing job.”
“What?”
“Seriously. You’re pretty talented all on your own. I’m sure today will go smoothly. I promise we won’t be trouble.”
“I’ll keep you to that.”
You were caught a bit off guard by the compliment, but you just wanted to finish eating and get back to the ballroom. You finished up first and excused yourself, ditching them and heading back to work. Once other staff members began to arrive you had them begin setting up and get ready for the models. Eventually Taeyong and his boys came down and you directed them all to the green room.
“Another busy day?”
“It’s always busy.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“Yes, your boys blackmailed me.”
“What?”
“Forget it. Do you need something?”
“No, but if there’s anything I can do to help. I know rehearsals are important.”
“Oh… uh…”
“If you need anything from me just let me know. I’ll be with my boys in the green room.”
“Alright.”
You really weren’t expecting a one eighty on these boys, but maybe they weren’t entirely unprofessional. Still, you weren’t gonna dwell on that and just continue with the task at hand. You hoped everything would go well, but when you got notice that one of your stylists called in sick you knew things were gonna get complicated. You didn’t have any other choice, so you went to the green room and got a list of who still needed work done. Of course it had to be some of Taeyong’s boy. You could see all the smiles on their stupid faces when you grabbed the makeup but you didn’t say anything, they would.
“Ya, y/n gets to do my makeup.” Haechan cheered. “Best day ever.”
“Quiet down.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You focused on the makeup, occasionally stepping away when others asked for direction, but for the most part you were keeping on schedule. The boys complimented your work, glowing over the fact you had gotten them ready.
“Y/n.”
“What?”
“Is everything alright?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Well, you said you’re not a stylist.” Taeyong pointed out. “Yet you’ve been here.”
“One of my stylists called off today, and I don’t have anyone else.”
“Ah, sorry. Can I help in any way?”
“No, you just…”
You didn’t want to ask him for help, but you also knew it wouldn’t be the best idea to just take on extra tasks. You really hoped he just didn’t make a fuss with you later.
“Actually, the catering service should be arriving soon. Do you think you can have them set up in the same area as yesterday? You know where that is, right?”
“I do.”
“Cool. I’m on channel four if you have any questions. Just borrow a walkie from someone else.”
“Thank you.”
You could mentally check off that task and just continue with what you were doing. When another staff member brought up the catering team being here you just told them Taeyong had it handled but to check on him and let you know if you were needed. You didn’t hear back so that was a good sign, and you could rest assured knowing your staff could get some food.
“When did you learn to do makeup?” Doyoung asked. “You’re good.”
“Just something I needed to know to help Vevee.”
“Have you ever thought of being a stylist?”
“My job is more than that.”
“Yeah, but having a solid career choice isn’t bad.”
“I guess, but right now I need you to be perfect.”
“It’s just rehearsal.” Jaehyun remarked in the next chair over. “You don’t need to be perfect.”
“If you have that kind of mentality about rehearsals you’re not gonna make it as a model. Every show is important, and you need to treat it as such every time. That way when it really does matter, you’re not stressed but doing something you’re confident in. So please, treat today as if it was the actual show.”
“Wow, never thought of it that way. Is that how you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll do my best today, promise.”
“You better.”
By the time you finished with makeup the runway was ready for rehearsal. You checked in with tech to make sure they knew their marks and then told everyone to be ready in ten. As you stepped out to the show area you saw Vevee sitting by the stage with a coffee in hand. She was chatting away and seemed to be in a good mood. You took a breath and made your way over.
“Hi, Vevee, glad you made it.”
“Ah, there you are. Is everything ready?”
“Yes. We’re gonna-”
“Then let’s start.”
“The team is-”
“Now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You called to those backstage to start everything in the next handful of seconds. You knew they were all probably gonna scrambled for a moment but then the lights went down and the models began to walk the runway. You paid attention to them, making note of where to improve while also making sure Vevee was content. If she had any notes she’d let you know afterwards. You went through the whole show in silence, thankfully the music playing made things less awkward. While you seemed focused on the models, Taeyong kept his gaze on you. Despite everything you were still working, you didn’t even take a seat for this. Once the show was over Vevee got up to speak with you.
“The models need to exude more confidence and pride. They’re wearing Vevee originals, this is the opportunity of a lifetime for them.”
“I will let them know.”
“Tell the marketing team to send out more promos in the morning, and don’t use the same pictures twice.”
“Got it.”
“Very well, on another note, what were you thinking!?”
“I’m sorry, what-”
“You had Taeyong working! He’s just a representative of his company and you thought-”
“It was no trouble at all.” Taeyong cut in. “I offered and-”
“I’m so sorry about that. Y/n should have no problem managing on her own. There was no need for you to step in.”
“I-”
Taeyong noticed you desperately shaking your head and trying to tell him to stop talking. He wanted to defend you, but seeing the worry in your eyes made him step back.
“Apologies. I don’t mean to worry you.”
“Let the girl do her job, no need for you to break a sweat.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Now y/n.”
“Yes Vevee.”
“I want another rehearsal tomorrow before the show.”
“What? If we do another the staff would need to come in before sunrise, and it would have to happen along side-”
“I don’t care for the details, just do it.”
“Of course ma’am.”
“Alright. My work here is done. I have to get ready for tomorrow.”
“We’ll see you then ma’am.”
You gave Vevee a bow and didn’t move until you knew she was gone. Taeyong took a step towards you and then saw your legs give out on you. He quickly caught you and held you up. For a moment you allowed it before getting yourself together and pulling away from him.
“I’m fine.”
“Sorry about earlier, I thought-”
“It’s fine. We need to run the show again.”
“Again? But we-”
“I need to incorporate Vevee’s notes. It won’t take long.”
“Fine. But you need to eat first.”
“What?”
“You nearly fainted just now, and it’s lunch time for your staff too anyway.”
“Right, right…”
“Come on, you need to take a break too.”
“I said-”
“I’m not asking. Please, if you’re not gonna take care of yourself then let me do it.”
“I-”
“Let’s go.”
Without asking Taeyong took your hand and led you over to the food table. He got in line with you, still holding your hand. He made you hold your tray while he placed food on top of it, asking what you wanted and getting his own food in the process. Afterwards he sat down with you, getting you some water and telling you to ease off the caffeine. He even took your phone from you so you could actually eat. You didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t pry you to talk. The rest of his boys eventually came to the table too, but you didn’t make conversation with them either. You just wanted to finish your food and get back to work. Although you knew Taeyong had a point. It was lunch time, no one besides you would be working.
After you finished eating you excused yourself, and thankfully Taeyong let you go. Once everyone was back you had the models get touched up and had staff prepare for another run. When Taeyong came over to you he asked where he could help but you just threw a glare his way. You weren’t gonna ask him for help again. Still, he stayed by your side as you ran the second rehearsal, talking to the models and the backstage crew. Taeyong had to admit you were quite good at being in charge. Everything went smoothly and everyone seemed to be having a good time. You were a bit ahead of your own schedule which was great, but next came the hard part. You gathered everyone and informed them that they needed to come in early for another rehearsal before the actual show.
The complaints came rolling in, but it was what Vevee wanted and there was no going against it. Since everyone had finished up early, you let them know that once they packed up their things they were free to go. They all seemed a bit upset, and you really felt guilty for it. You checked over everyone’s stations and then dismissed them. In the end it was just you, or so you thought. Taeyong and his crew were still hanging around, some up on the runway messing around. You were glad to see them smiling and having fun, but the day was over.
“You guys can go home, you know.”
“We know.” Jungwoo said. “We were waiting for you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Dinner and then we can take you home.”
“I’m good, thanks. There are still somethings I-”
“Nope.” Johnny cut in. “Tomorrow is the big day, you should eat well and then get some rest.”
“It’d be a waste to go home considering how early I need to be here in the morning.”
“Are you gonna sleep here then?”
“…”
“You’re kidding.”
“You guys can go.”
“You’re coming with us.” Mark stated. “You can’t stay here.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Easy now.” Taeyong spoke up. “It’s really not a good idea for you to stay here, especially without eating.”
“I’ll order something in a bit.”
“How about I propose something else.”
“Like what?”
“Well, my boys and I are staying in the penthouse suite. So why don’t you come up with us, we can get room service, and you can crash on one of our beds. That way you can get some good sleep and not worry about being so far from the ballroom. How does that sound?”
“I don’t know.”
“You need to be well rested. Tomorrow is the big day. I’m just trying to help.”
“Fine, but if any of your guys try anything I swear.”
“We’ll all behave. Promise.”
“Alright. Let me just grab my laptop.”
The prospect of sleeping in an actual bed was really too tempting to pass, so you went up with the guys to the penthouse suite. You were stunned by the view, heading over to the window and looking out at the city. It seemed to be alive in its own way at night, and you had never seen it like this before. Taeyong brought you over a menu and you ordered yourself something, getting to work in the meantime. You ate as you worked, glad you were left alone as well. When you finished up you decided to take a shower, staying in a dress robe afterwards.
“Ready for bed!?”
You yelled as you stepped out of the bathroom, seeing that Yuta had been waiting outside for you. He quickly apologized for startling you.
“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Cool. We have a room set aside for you. It’s all clean, so if you need anything else just let us know.”
“Thanks.”
“Sleep well.”
“I’ll try.”
🖤
To your own surprise you had no trouble falling asleep with a bunch of strangers just outside the door. Although to be fair you had locked the door just for your peace of mind. You woke to the sound of a knock at your door, getting up still half asleep. So when you opened the door you were a bit surprised to see Johnny. That startled you awake, and the boy apologized.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m sure you’d give me an earful if you were late.”
“Yeah, I would. Thanks.”
“No problem. Breakfast is on the table. Come by and eat before you head down, okay?”
“I’ll be at the table soon.”
“Good.”
You dressed in your clothes from last night, planning to change when you went down. You left your show outfit there since you didn’t think you’d be going home at all, and you were right. Once dressed you joined the others at the table, greeting them. You were still a bit sleepy, but you ate nonetheless and then excused yourself. You reminded them what time you expected them down and then left. Today was the big day and everything had to be perfect. Of course you were the first one down there, starting to go over your checklist and preparing what you could. The staff knew what they had to do, so all they did was check in with you before going to work.
By seven the models began showing up, getting prepped. You had no time to chat with Taeyong or the others, and they knew not to bother you too much. Then came the decoration staff and you had to direct them. While you did that you also made sure to check with the tech crew as they set up the lights and everything. You needed them to be ready to run another rehearsal before Ta. No one was really happy to be here early, but that was the job. Soon enough you ran through the whole show. Any notes you had for the models you mentioned then and there. Honestly you wish there wasn’t one last rehearsal causing all this made you anxious.
Once that was done you made sure the final bits of decoration were done and then greeted the wait staff. The drinks and food needed to be set out and staff had to be given directions as well. You knew what kind of people came to these events, so one had to be mentally prepared for the type of things they might overhear. Somehow you were managing all this without a break. You didn’t know that but someone had been keeping an eye on you all day. When lunch time rolled around Taeyong came up to you, taking your hand and dragging you over to the food table. You knew arguing with him was pointless, and you would have most likely skipped lunch if not for him.
You ate a bit, not wanting to get too full and feel sleepy later on. After this the final preparations needed to be done, and it would soon be time to start welcoming guests. Vevee wouldn’t be here until show time, but until then you were in charge. Meaning that as the host you would need to greet everyone that came through to make sure they were on the guest list and tell them about the night’s event. You got dressed before then, doing your own hair and makeup. You made sure you could hide a walkie on you and anything else you might need while still looking presentable.You’d be representing Vevee and her company, so you needed to be at your best.
“Wow… you look amazing.”
“Huh?” 
You were in the back, stepping out of one of the empty green rooms when you heard a voice. You looked over to see Jaehyun a few steps down the hall.
“Oh, yeah, thanks. You look good too, Vevee dressed us both.”
“Vevee picked your outfit?”
“Yeah. Not my first choice, but it’s nice. I gotta go, so behave and break a leg.”
“Thanks.”
Jaehyun watched you go for a moment before going off to find Taeyong. He found his hyung in the green room with the others. The event of the night has already begun and he probably should have mentioned this sooner but he has to be sure. Now he was.
“Taeyong.”
“Hm?”
“I can’t hear anyone’s heartbeat, except y/n’s.”
“What? When did you notice this?”
“When we got down here. Although I wasn’t sure what was going on since I was focused on getting ready and the rehearsal. Just now though I followed the only heartbeat I could hear and it led me to y/n.”
“Now that you mention it.” Jungwoo added. “I’m not picking up anyone’s scent. Although I am getting a faint whiff of y/n off Jaehyun.”
“What’s happening?”
“It’s the spell.” Taeyong reminded. “We’d lose our power as time went on. We’re close to death and it seems the last of our abilities are leading us to her.”
“Then it’s for sure her.” Haechan said. “Y/n is our queen.”
“Yeah.”
“Are we gonna do it tonight?”
“We don’t have much time left. Tonight would be good. Although we need to make sure the show goes well, understood?”
“Got it.”
As much as Taeyong might want to stay with his boys, he couldn’t. With their powers dwindling he was worried for them, but then again they didn’t have much of a blood lust either. With guests beginning to arrive he had to be out with them, he was the representing face of his boys. While he made some light conversation he’d always glance your way, seeing you up front greeting all the guests and offering assistance to anyone who needed it. Now that he was really able to see you, even from afar, he was quite mesmerized by your beauty. For the first time in a long time he could look upon someone and see them as they are, and not food. You were his regardless, but this was an added level of amazement.
Once the lights got low you were on stage making the announcement that the show would begin soon and for everyone to take their seat. All the important guests had their assigned seats and so did the photographers. Taeyong was in the front row noticing he’d be sitting next to Vevee, although he didn’t see a seat for you. As the people began to settle down he couldn’t see a place for you. It was upsetting but at the same time he understood you were running the show, so you probably wouldn’t actually be able to enjoy it like everyone else. The show started and Taeyong believed it went beautifully. All those present seemed to be enjoying themselves, and he made slight conversation with Vevee about the models, including his own. 
Not once did he see you, but he could hear your heartbeat, knowing you were backstage. The end of the show was met with roaring applause, all the praise going to Vevee for her amazing designs and all her work. It left Taeyong with a faux smile and a butter taste knowing there was someone else who deserved more credit if not all of it. He wanted to go find you afterwards but he was dragged into conversations as other people wanted to work with him and his models. He has no interest but he couldn’t just disappear now. He had to wait until the very end, when everything was getting cleaned up. He found you then up on the runway, watching over the clean up.
“Great show.” Taeyong said as he walked the runway to you. “It was wonderful. You did a great job.”
“Thanks.” You smiled. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Are you finally gonna sleep?”
“For like a day at least before I have to get back to work.”
“What? You don’t get some time off after this?”
“Not really. There’s always something else going on.”
“That’s not really fair.”
“It’s the job.”
“Then how about dinner? No, wait, it’s really late and I’m sure you won’t be leaving soon, so how about breakfast, the day after tomorrow that is. Before you return to work.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Cool. I should probably give you my number so that way we can keep in touch.”
“Sure. Here you go.”
Taeyong took your phone and added his number in, sending himself a message to make sure he had your number. He handed it back to you, giving you a smile.
“You know, there is something I need to talk with you about.”
“What is it?”
“Not here, but in private. I’ll save it for breakfast.”
“I never said I would go.”
“But I hope you will.”
“I-”
“What’s this?” Vevee walked down the runway. “Having a private conversation I see.”
“Nothing like that Vevee.” You assured. “Congratulations on another successful show.”
“Of course it was a success, you know I’m the best.”
“Precisely.”
“Y/n did a lot to help prepare the show tonight.” Taeyong mentioned. “She deserves some time off.”
“Taeyong.”
“Ah, so is that it?” Vevee questioned. “This whole time you’ve offered to do her job for her, and now you’re even trying to give her credit for my show and get her some time off? Are you trying to take y/n away from me?”
“Vevee, I would never-”
“You can have her.”
“… what… Vevee-”
“If she needs help to do her job, and has to have someone else fight battles for her, then she’s no longer as good as she used to be. So if you want something old and worn go ahead, I won’t stop you.”
“Vevee…”
“Go on now, do as you please.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. After everything you had done, your boss was so quick to discard you. This didn’t make any sense, but for Vevee the conversation was over. You followed her as she turned back, fumbling with your words and trying to figure out what to say. Taeyong intended to do the same, realizing what he had done only to have you throw a death glare his way and make him stop. That would be his mistake. 
You kept trying to talk to Vevee about this but she wasn’t listening. Without really meaning to you grabbed her arm, pleading with her, but your actions upset her. Instead she wound up shoving you away, which in turn had you stumble back towards the edge of the runway. Taeyong could see what was about to happen, intending to use his power to get to you, regardless of him exposing himself, but when he took a step he realized he couldn’t move fast enough. Instead he could only watch as you fell off the runway, crashing into the chairs below. Soon enough the smell of blood, your blood, hit him.
“Y/n!”
“Oh dear, she must be drunk.” Vevee remarked. “Useless girl.”
Taeyong ran over, jumping down and noticing the blood pooling around your head. He was panicking, and soon enough the rest of his members came over, the smell of blood calling them. You felt dizzy, and you could barely make out your surroundings. The voices around you sounded far away, but you could feel someone holding you.
“What happened!?” Doyoung questioned. “What did you do?”
“It wasn’t me, it was that bitch.” Taeyong explained. “She pushed y/n off the runway.”
“Her heartbeat is slow.” Yuta mentioned. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
“Right… right…”
Taeyong picked you up in his arms, Mark using his jacket to cradle your head. They all made it to the elevator, intending to go down, but Johnny merely shut the elevator doors and kept them that way.
“Johnny, what are you doing!?” Haechan said. “She’s losing blood.”
“We can’t take her to the hospital.”
“What?”
“If we take her to the hospital the doctors will take her from us, and we’ll have no way of reaching her. What if she dies? Her life isn’t the only one on the line right now.”
“We don’t know that she’ll die.”
“Even if she lives, we don’t have that much time left.”
“You-”
“He’s right.” Taeyong interrupted. “I… I watched her fall… I couldn’t reach her… none of us have much time… Johnny, take her.”
Johnny did as he was told, hitting the button for the penthouse suite before taking you in his arms. Taeyong pulled out a small box from his coat pocket, getting out the vial that contained all their blood. He couldn’t be gentle with you in this state, forcing your mouth open and carefully pouring the contents of the vial down your throat. You choked on it a bit, but it was important you drank it all. When the elevator chimed they were in their suite, completely alone.
“What do we do now?” Mark questioned.
“We make her comfortable.” Taeyong stated. “This could drag on or be over in a few minutes.”
“… it’s cold…” You mumbled. “… it hurts… my head…”
“Sh, sh, it’s going to be okay.” Jaehyun cooed. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
“… hm…”
Despite knowing you’d survive, it still hurt them not being able to do anything to help. Johnny took you to the bedroom, laying you down. A moment later Haechan and Yuta came in, doing their best to clean you up and keep you comfortable. You didn’t seem to be in much pain, which was a relief, but they all kind of felt guilty. Truth was you had to die in order for them all to live, but this wasn’t how they imagined things to go. It was the last step, but so much had gotten in the way. They had to be better once you were back. They took turns tending to you all night, but by sunrise the penthouse was quiet. No one could hear the sound of your heartbeat.
“How long… until she wakes?” Yuta wondered. “What do we do until then?”
“We wait.” Taeyong stated. “This will be like any usual transition. It’s different for everyone. I do need some of you to get her some clothes, and others to run a warm bath to clean her up properly. She’s gonna be disoriented when she wakes up, and we all need to be on our best behavior.”
“Got it.”
They were all a bit awkward, never having cared for someone in such a manner. Jaehyun got a warm bath going, making sure they had the necessities to properly prepare you. Three of the others examined your clothes for sizes and went off to get you some new things. Two others went off to get the food you would need. By now they had about a day left before they’d meet their own end, but they were all more concerned with you above all else. They had cleaned up the room you were in, and carefully dressed you in some comfortable clothes. The hours really dragged on, but they just had to be patient.
🖤
You inhaled softly, your eyes fluttering open. There was a dryness in your throat, and a low ringing in your ear that was starting to get louder. You groaned as you sat up, wanting to get out of bed. At the moment your memories were hazy, but you needed to get something to drink. You managed to get your legs under you, although you were unsteady with every step. You leaned against the hall when you got out of the room, although the noises around you were getting louder and louder. You fell to your knees, placing your hands over your ears but it did little to help.
“Y/n! You’re awake.”
Doyoung found you curled up on the floor, glad to see you were up, but also worried upon seeing the state you were in.
“What’s wrong?”
“Loud… everything’s so loud…”
“Yeah, that tends to overwhelm you the most. Just focus on one thing for now, like your heartbeat. Try to drown everything else out except for that.”
You did your best to follow Doyoung’s directions as he kept chatting with you. It was difficult at first to really hone in on your own heartbeat, but slowly you managed, all the other sounds fading away. Although, once you really began to listen you realized how slow it was beating, and that was scaring you.
“Y/n, what’s wrong?”
“My heart… am I dying…”
“Uh, well… it’s complicated… do you remember the other night? After the show?”
“The show… I… I was…”
You didn’t know when the tears started falling, but they were present as a bunch of memories came rushing in. You screamed and grabbed your head, looking for the injury, the blood, but there was nothing. You seemed to be fine, but that was far from the truth. Doyoung wasn’t sure what to do at the moment, but he pulled you into his arms, holding you close and trying to sooth you, not wanting you to hurt yourself. By now you had attracted attention, and the others came by to see what was going on. Everyone was glad to see you up, but not in this state.
“Y/n, it’s okay, everything is okay.” Taeyong got down to your level. “You’re just fine.”
“She… she…”
“Sh, sh, you’re not hurt. Everything is alright now.”
“No… no… what happened? What’s going on? Everything… everything’s wrong, it’s wrong!”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s so loud… and my throat hurts and… and… I’m supposed to be dead… aren’t I?”
“Y/n…”
“Please, just tell me what’s happening…”
Taeyong sighed. “You are dead, y/n.”
“… what…”
“You died the other night, you bled out. You wouldn’t make it to the hospital… so we brought you here instead… and we saved you…”
“Saved me…? Ha… how? You… you said…”
“I know it’s a lot but I can explain.”
“Why… why would you… why me…”
It was hard to accept the words you were being told, and it was getting difficult to breathe. You had lost focus, starting to get overwhelmed by all the sounds around you. It wasn’t long before you wound up passing out, making them all worry.
“Y/n!” Taeyong yelled. “Y/n!”
He gently grabbed your face, placing a finger under your nose to make sure you were breathing. Everything he had said probably got to you.
“Get her back to her room, and someone get her some food. She’ll wake up again soon.”
Haechan and Yuta went off to find you some food, and the others all got you back to bed. No one left the room, everyone waiting around for you to regain consciousness. The silence was driving them all mad, but upon hearing your whimper they grew still. You opened your eyes, seeing that you were in the same room as before. Nothing had changed, so this most likely wasn’t a dream. You slowly sat up, a bit startled when you saw all the other boys in the room.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Johnny asked. “Better?”
“It’s still loud…” You took a deep breath to focus your hearing, but your own heartbeat was still making you uneasy. “I’m… I’m really dead…”
“You died.” Jaehyun corrected. “But you’re not actually dead.”
“Then what am I…”
“Do you believe in vampires?”
“They’re not… real…”
“We very much are.”
“So… are you all…” You looked around the room. “… vampires… am I…?”
“Yes.” Mark confirmed. “You’re just like us.”
“… why…”
“What do you mean?”
“Why me… why did you save me? I… I don’t understand…”
“Because-”
“Let me be honest.” Taeyong cut in. “It’s always been you.”
“What?”
Despite everything being so new to you Taeyong wanted to be honest from the beginning. You had eternity together, and if not, you’d all go to the grave as one. He sat down at the edge of the bed, gently reaching over to take your hand in his.
“Remember how I told you we came here looking for something.”
“Yeah…”
“Well, that something was you.”
“… why…”
“You can call it destiny. We came to this place in search of a better life, and our journey led us to you. I honestly should have known from the start. A girl with fire like you, I don’t think I’d want anyone else.” Taeyong chuckled. “Truth is, we’re all connected through you now. We needed someone so we’d be reborn as something better, just like you.”
“Me…?”
“You are my queen now.” Taeyong kissed your hand. “Of course things are more complicated than they seem, but we’re here for you, and we will take care of you.”
“… a queen…”
“Just like a bee hive. We’re here for you. I really wanted to explain all this to you before but… we couldn’t just let you die, especially since we’d die with you.”
“What?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but there is still something else. In order for everything to be alright, we do need to drink your blood.”
“My… my blood?”
“Yes. I understand this is all still new to you, and the idea probably seems crazy, but as you get used to all this you’ll see that you’re far stronger than you can imagine. Stronger than us even.”
“… and if you don’t?”
“We’ll definitely die, and I’m pretty sure you will too…”
“Oh…”
“You don’t need to decide right now, but I do need-”
“Here.” You held out your wrist. “Let’s get it over with.”
“If you’re not-”
“I don’t want you guys to die.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, but this is gonna feel… weird.”
Taeyong grabbed your wrist, placing a gentle kiss on it before exposing his fangs and biting you. A loud gasp escaped your lips followed by a rush of euphoria. Your eyes were wide and you had your head thrown back a bit. You didn’t even realize when Taeyong had pulled away, not until he was reaching up to caress your cheek.
“How do you feel?”
“Definitely… weird…”
“I thought so, but you’re okay, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You think you can do it again?”
“Sure.”
You were still a bit out of it, but you certainly felt another pair of fangs dig into your wrist. That same pleasurable feeling coarse through you again, and you wound up laying back on the bed. You felt a hand on your head, seeing Yuta smiling down at you.
“You still okay?”
“Hm…”
“You do need to eat too.”
“I’m not hungry…”
“You said your throat was dry earlier.”
“Oh yeah…”
“Come on. Let’s get you back up.”
Yuta helped you sit back up, making sure you were leaning against the headboard. You saw him bring a thermos to your lips. A strange scent hit your nose. It was something unfamiliar, but it smelled amazing. Yuta carefully tilted up the thermos, letting you get a taste of strange liquid. As soon as you had a drop on your tongue you grabbed the thermos and drank it all. It felt refreshing and invigorating. You wanted more, but the thermos was empty.
“Easy, easy. We have plenty more.”
“What is it?”
“What do you think, you’re a vampire.”
“Ah… blood… tastes better than I thought…”
All the boys seemed to laugh, and their easy going vibes were certainly putting you at ease. Everything was so new to you, but having them there made you feel better. You still didn’t quite understand this connection they mentioned, and what was in store for you down the line, but at least you weren’t scared. You had some more blood, and the others took turns biting you. Each one still felt just as amazing as the last. Afterwards they let you rest and you certainly slept the day away. You were a bit surprised to wake up later to find yourself alone, but you could hear noises just outside the door. The others were around, so you weren’t truly alone.
You carefully got out of bed, feeling a lot stronger than before. You managed to walk out of the room and made your way down the hall. As you stepped into the living room you noticed the sun shining in. It caught you a bit by surprise, but before you could really take it in you heard someone scream and then you were on the floor. Mark had tackled you to the ground, keeping you close while the two of you laid behind the couch. You had no idea what was going on and you were a bit too scared to ask. After the initial attack Mark was doting on you, making sure you were alright.
“You okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine… why did you…”
“You’re still a baby, the sun can hurt you.”
“The sun? It didn’t hurt though…”
“It didn’t?”
“No…”
You carefully pulled away from Mark, getting on your knees. You slowly lifted up your hand above the couch, feeling the sunlight against your skin. There was a bit of a tingle, but it definitely didn’t hurt. Mark was a bit stunned, getting up and helping you to your feet as well.
“I guess you’re a lot more powerful than I thought.”
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“You were just worried and looking out for me. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. You hungry?”
“Kinda…”
“Then let’s get you some food.”
You sat at the dining table as Mark got you some food. A few of the others joined you later on, Mark getting scolded once they learned about what he did. You assured everyone you were fine and there was no need to yell at the boy. Although, since they had your attention, there was something to discuss.
“Y/n.”
“Hm?”
“I know you’re still adjusting to everything, but it would be best if we took you home.”
“Home?”
“We only came here to find you.” Doyoung said. “And now that we did, it’s best we get you somewhere better suited for you as you start this new chapter with us.”
“I see…”
“It won’t be easy to just let everything go.” Jaehyun added. “But you have time.”
“I might, but not everything else.”
“We can stay a while longer, but it’s best we leave.” Taeyong mentioned. “We need to pack your things and-”
“I need to see her again.”
“No.”
“You don’t even-”
“Who else would you want to see at this point? I know who you’re talking about, and the answer is no.”
“You said I’m your queen, so you listen to me.”
“It’s our job to do what’s best for you, and seeing that bitch isn’t it.”
“I’m not gonna do anything. I just… I just want to see her one last time… please.”
“Fine, but not alone.”
“I understand.”
It kinda felt surreal, going back to your own place and packing your things. Your life had drastically changed in a matter of hours, and there was no going back. Even though it had been a couple of days since the whole incident, you knew exactly where Vevee would be. She wasn’t one to change her schedule, especially for someone like you. So Johnny, Haechan, and Taeyong accompanied you into a restaurant. Vevee always enjoyed her brunch meetings, if you could actually call them that. You didn’t worry about reservation or staff, you just walked in knowing the boys would deal with the other things.
“Vevee.”
It wasn’t hard to find your former boss, and you just walked up to the table. There was a lot you wanted to say, but in the moment you kinda locked up, and of course she spoke her mind.
“Ah, finally put yourself back together I see. Have you come to apologize? You left a mess at-”
“Are you fucken serious right now?”
“Language. You-”
“Shut up! You fucken killed me and you don’t even care? I guess your pathetic brain can’t even comprehend your actions.”
“Excuse me?” Vevee got up. “Watch your fucken tone with me.”
“Fuck you! You’re a terrible person, and you can’t do anything on your own. After that last show, I’m done. I quit.”
“You quit? Just like that?”
“Goodbye.”
Vevee scoffed. “You are never going to work in this industry. I-”
“I don’t care. I’m not even sure I want to, but if I ever do, I’ll do so over your dead body. Have a nice life.”
You walked away without another word, not caring to hear anything more. You may not have said everything you wanted to, but at least you made your peace. The boys were waiting for you, offering you comforting smiles. You followed them out to the car waiting. As you drove off you couldn’t help but look out the window and watch the city pass you by. This place was once your home, you gave it a lot of you, and now you were leaving. You didn’t think things would go down this way, but it wasn’t really a goodbye. You could come back here someday, but you’ll be very different, and the city itself might be different too.
“Are you alright?” Taeyong asked. “Is there something else you need to do?”
“No, no, I’m just… I’ll be okay… right?”
“Of course. We’re here for you.”
“Thanks.”
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lowkeyed1 · 11 months ago
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look. i know nobody is excited about voting. but you don't vote because you're excited. you vote to get the best possible outcome you can get. this pustulating, senile fuckwad is the worst outcome you can get. he's delusional. he'd love to dismantle every law in this country that prevents him from grifting and institute a bunch more that keep anyone from ever being mean to him, and fucking play merry hell with whatever else runs across his putrid little mind. and he is surrounded by the lowest, most grasping, most mercenary and evil people who are eager to help him accomplish this. we were frankly blessed by the mix of incompetence and inexperience that kept last time from being worse than it was --- and last time was BAD, folks. i don't care about your feelings honestly. if you don't register to vote and vote against trump, i am going to fucking kill kill kill you with my mental laser beams. you can't prove they don't exist, so just fucking do what i say and we'll all be happier for it, okay? thank you
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iamindifferenttolamp · 1 year ago
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vote *for whom*. there isn't a single major party in my country that opposes the ethnic cleansing of gaza
Vote for whomever gets you one step closer or, at worst, whomever's standing still while their opponent tries to drag the country down to authoritarian capitalist hell
And don't let Okay and Good pass you by while you're waiting for the Perfect that will never come. Don't look at Okay and Good and go "nah, I'll just let Really Fucking Bad Actually win because it upsets my tummy to vote for anything less than Perfect"
If you can't handle holding your nose and picking a candidate that doesn't agree with you on everything when the other candidate wants not just all Palestinians dead, but also you and me and everyone else who would never suck their dick and pay them for the privilege, then I don't believe you could ever possibly handle the revolution you want so badly
To clarify, because we all love to piss on the poor,
Genocide is not okay or good. Supporting genocide is abhorrent. But not voting doesn't stop candidates from being elected; it just stops you from having a say in the matter. And if both candidates support genocide, well that sucks but there are other issues, even if they may be less important, to you and/or objectively; and if the candidates agreed on every issue, they would not be running against each other
So get out there and vote for the fucked up piece of shit who only wants to kill Palestinian men, not the women and children, instead of the one who wants to wipe the entire middle east off the map because at least you'll be saving the women and children while you work on a better solution, and it'll take you all the effort of standing in one (1) line and filling a circle or two to do it. The other 364 days you can go back to saving Gaza through the power of mutual aid and the revolution everyone loves to talk about but nobody seems to actually be doing
Or vote for the fucked up piece of shit who wants Gaza gone (because they both do) but also wants to decriminalize drugs. Does this help Gaza? Not directly, but it keeps more people out of prison, meaning you have more people who you coalition build and collaborate with, whether on direct NGO involvement in getting aid to Gaza, or on pressuring politicians to call for a cease fire, or just building a base of voting power to back a better candidate in the next race
Oh and if your country has a primary system like the US, maybe vote then, too, so you can push whichever viable party you most agree with (or least disagree with, if it hurts your tummy too much to think of it in terms of agreement) further in the direction you want and need
These things matter. Of course you want to save everyone and you want it to happen right now. I do too! But when that's not an option on the table, the right choice isn't to sit on your hands and complain from a distance. The right choice is to do whatever will lead to a better outcome. Not perfect, not even necessarily good. Just better than the alternative
And then reach in the toolbox for the next tool, and keep going. Is a nail gun more effective at building a house than a table saw? Maybe. But I suspect it's hard to cut a 2x4 with a nail gun, and there's no harm in putting down the nail gun for just a moment and plugging in the table saw when a board that's too long comes your way. Then you can pick up the nail gun again and make sure that board knows its place
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keelanrosa · 1 year ago
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i keep seeing people try to counter stuff like this with "oh so it's okay to be pro-genocide as long as they support [poc/queer people/whatever other 'at least the democrats don't fuck EVERYONE over' group is referenced], modern leftist standards are such garbage" which. if it was actually a tradeoff would certainly be a reasonable complaint. but y'all.
do you honestly think Trump will call for a ceasefire? or DeSantis will send less money to Israel? because everything i've ever heard Trump say about the Middle East in general and Muslims specifically points to him making things worse. this is a man who has already said in much milder contexts we should carpet-bomb the middle east and slaughter entire families for nebulous ties to terrorism, he's not gonna say "oh i didn't mean bomb hospitals, that's a lil too war-crimey :("
or do you think if the majority of people don't vote at all, or vote downticket but not for president, or in some other way express "i CAN vote but i'm not GONNA because they both suck" in a way electors notice, we'll just. not have a president at all? like the electoral college is just gonna say "welp, had a good run of 40+ presidents but the People have Spoken and they don't like anybody so we gotta switch to another system now"? you're not getting out of having a garbage president by not voting for one any more than you get out of having a garbage president any other time the one you don't vote for wins.
ultimately it's not "one is bad for Palestinians, one is bad for marginalized Americans, and if you value lives equally regardless of where people live then they're equally bad or the Democrats are worse; the outcome is roughly the same but at least not voting Sends a Message."
it's "one is bad for Palestinians and bad for marginalized Americans and has a 0% chance of changing his mind in the next five years, one is still bad for Palestinians and frankly not great for all Americans but not absolute garbage for everyone and has at least a 2% chance of changing course for the better; the outcome is terrible either way but one is terrible for only a subset of the reasons the other is terrible, and one of these fuckers is landing in office regardless of what Message we want to send, so. yes. even if you're a single-issue voter and that issue is Palestine, sorry both candidates are shit but one does hit more closely to your preferences."
sorry but i want to hit every american talking about not wanting to vote democrat anymore with hammers. lol
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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago
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inspirational ~ corpse husband
word count: 1589
request?: yes!
“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”
description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him
pairing: corpse x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best
masterlist (one, two)
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Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.
“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”
“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.
(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.
When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.
The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.
Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.
He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.
“Hello (Y/N).”
“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”
Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”
“Are you here to kill me?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”
Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”
“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.
“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.
Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”
“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”
He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”
“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires  by accident or something.”
“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”
“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.
He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”
“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”
“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”
Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”
“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”
A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.
“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”
This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.
“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”
“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”
“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”
“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”
(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”
Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”
Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.
Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”
“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”
“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.
Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.
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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago
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Investigations (Part 7): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader
wc: 1.6k
tw: NSFW is you squint
masterlist
song recommendation:
You try your best to shuffle around the kitchen surreptitiously, clicking the espresso pod into the machine with a soft 'snap'.
The machine begins its duty, whirring to life before the liquid is deposited into the cup below.
Success.
Your fingers wrap around the mug and take it to the counter, where you've already prepared your milk and syrup for a quick and easy cup of coffee.
Lately, you've had to sneak and make coffee (all futile attempts ruined by Kai or Ran), but you consider today full of promise. You'd gotten the formula down so far.
"I thought I said no coffee."
Your hands hover over the cup, the steam caressing your fingers like a warm invitation. Your eyes don't move to look at Ran, but they do watch his fingers snatch the cup away from you - full of warm milk and espresso.
"Y/n, it's not good for the baby."
"Okay, but..." Your feet carry you to the sink, where Ran is pouring the concoction down the drain. "Just a taste?"
"No."
"A sip?"
"No."
"I'll make it and just stick my tongue in it once."
"No."
Ran stands firm on his opinions at all times. Especially now. Arms cross over your chest and you huff, turning away from him.
"So strict." Ran fingers slide down your neck, resting around your full hips.
"It's not just about you," he begins, kissing the space between your neck and shoulder. "I'm looking out for our child, too. You know that."
"I do," you groan.
"Now, we have a baby shower to host. Let's get ready."
_____________________________________________________________
"We thought you were gone forever!" The three women come around you and huddle close, cooing, and crying, spewing lamentations and satisfied praises that you've returned.
Sanzu - out of the kindness of his heart - planned the baby shower, and you're at his house, eating cake with your friends and consuming hors d'oeuvres. But when you find a free moment, you corner Ran in the kitchen.
"Did you tell the others?"
"Tell them what?" Ran tilts his head at you and leans onto the counter, frowning. Your face smoothes out into an expression of disappointment, and you sigh.
Of course, he hadn't.
It's still your job to carry this terrible secret. It's still your job to bury your deepest, darkest knowing, all while the other girls are parading about like their husbands aren't killers and extortionists.
"Hey, y/n! It's time to open the presents!"
_____________________________________________________________
The water surrounding your figure is warm, full of bubbles and Epsom salt, as well as a little bath bomb that Ran bought - well, he bought sixteen, but that's beside the point.
"Feeling okay? Is it too hot?" You look over to the man sitting on the toilet seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes you pour water over your belly.
"It's fine," you murmur, blinking slowly. "Feels good."
"Want to turn on the jets or--"
"I want to join Bonten." Ran's face drops, his violet eyes clouding with confusion.
"I'm sorry?"
"You heard me." You stare at him, fully intent on getting your desired response. "I want to be a part of what you do."
"Babe, no." Ran leans his head forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"You haven't even listened to me," you whisper, looking down at the ten toes poking out of the water. "You always do this. You tell me 'no' because that's the way you want things. I can't even drink coffee without your permission."
"Listen, I'll let you do whatever you want, but Bonten is out of the question. You're pregnant --"
"Then I can wait until I have the baby."
"Even after that, I'm going to say no. This is a dangerous business." He emphasizes his words with a shake of his head, pressing his lips together.
"You act like I wasn't an investigative journalist for ten years."
"This shit could get you killed, y/n."
"Yes," you begin. "But you do it every day. I want to be a part of it."
"Why?" Ran finally asks, and your lips curl into a smile.
"I know things you don't know. The media follows you very closely, and you need a good image if you ever run into a problem with... say, law enforcement. What better way to prove that this is a harmless organization than hiring a woman - your wife?" Ran quirks his lips, looking at the door of the bathroom with consideration.
"Is there any particular skill you'll avail to us other than just public relations? I mean, I could get someone to do that who isn't my wife."
"I have connections that will divert attention away from Bonten, if necessary." You think of the little group you and the other wives have created, and send a mental apology their way. "You can use me to get the word out about any other suspicious groups who might be involved. Aid and abet, like a good wife."
Ran stands from the toilet, sighing deeply. "I'll ask Mikey. But don't expect me to attempt to sway him with my loyalty. If anything, I'll ask him to really think about it before he makes a choice."
"That's all I want," you breathe, taking Ran's hand and pressing your lips against the back of it. "You're too good to me."
"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart."
_____________________________________________________________
Convincing Ran to part with his old-fashioned ways is something you're very skilled at. All you need to do is get on your knees... and be as sweet as you can be.
"Babe," you mutter, sucking Ran's thick cock from the side. "You're such a good husband."
"Buttering me up for Mikey, huh?" Fingers cup the back of your head and push you down slightly. "Why am I not surprised?"
And every single time, Ran sees straight through your little act. But he enjoys it nonetheless. He loves seeing you like this - giving him the attention he missed so much while you were gone.
"Because you know me so well. And that's why you married me."
That's why you married me. Ran's eyes close as he re-imagines himself the first time he decided to visit you, hands full of shit he didn't have to buy, and eyes full of stars at the sight of you answering the door in a tank top and shorts with a cast on your leg. That's when he knew that he wanted to marry you. Not because you're good at anything in particular, but because you were so ordinary... So normal. He needed someone like you then, and he needs you now.
"Stop."
"Am I doing something wrong?" you murmur, but Ran shakes his head, strands of his black and white hair flopping back and forth.
"You're perfect," he whispers. "You're always so perfect." He brings you off your knees and face to face with him, holding you by the arms. "Let me make love to you. I'll do the work," Ran promises. "You just enjoy yourself."
"But--"
"I've already told you what I'm going to do. Just let me give you what you deserve." Ran angles forward, leaning into a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak and your head spin.
Ran spoons you from behind on the bed, holding your leg up and sliding in and out of you with care. The other arm is holding you against him - wrapped around your chest - as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
"I love the way you moan my name," he breathes. "You always know how to make me feel like the only man in the world."
"You are," you reply honestly. "You're the only man for me."
_____________________________________________________________
"Why do you want to join Bonten?"
The dead eyes of the man across from you are unyielding, and part of you feels nervous that he's staring at you so intensely.
"I want to help you all out. I want to make sure that not only do my children have something to rely on when they grow up, but that my husband is taken care of in all ways."
"Your children and your husband?" You think of Ran, who is just outside of the door, probably pacing with his hands in his pockets. "Your husband just spent three hours arguing with me."
"About?"
"You." The man stands, and Sanzu looks over at him with blank eyes. He wants to chime in, but he can't say anything right now. Not when Mikey was supposed to handle this himself. "Your presence here will be controversial. Especially since you're... in the state you're in."
"Pregnancy isn't a fatal disease."
"No, but being in Bonten could be fatal. And I don't know if both ran and I would be willing to accept the consequences of two deaths on our hand."
"But--" Sanzu raises a finger to his lips, warning you to be quiet.
"However," the man murmurs, rolling his neck around. "Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho have vouched for you and your connections." Your shoulders slacken, and you lean back in the chair, somewhat relieved. "I will put it to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever the outcome is, we'll both accept it."
A blind vote.
Thirty-six hours.
"Thank you, sir." You stand and bow slightly, hands clasped together. When you leave the room, Ran is waiting for you in the hallway, eyes wide.
"Well?"
"It'll be put to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever happens, happens."
Ran's face is anything but pleased as you drive home, but you don't worry about that too much. You have one and a half days to wait for the results, and you'd make the best of it either way.
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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years ago
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THE BOX IS NABOO
That’s it, I’m doing it, I’m writing that stupid meta I’ve had in the works for two and a half years, I’m sharing it with the world. I promised it for last Thursday, my poll was forever ago, but whatever! I’m writing that freaking thing.
(super duper long post, press j to skip)
Enter my rabbit hole.
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First thing to establish: the Box makes no sense whatsoever in-universe.
((EDIT: Something I forgot to mention. IRL, the premise of a giant murder cube and the aesthetic - wall patterns, light designs, etc - of the episode come from the 1997 horror movie Cube, (see the episode’s wookieepedia page). However, while the two are very closely linked visually, the Box does not follow the movie structurally or narratively, as you can verify by simply reading the movie’s summary.))
Recap of the context for the "Box" episode (s4e17): Palpatine is planning his own kidnapping. It was never meant to succeed, and while the plan would obviously benefit him (making the Jedi look bad, pushing Anakin closer to the Dark Side, making Republic citizens more afraid -> more docile, etc...) his actual goal is never explained, and it’s weird that he’d go to such extreme lengths for results so minimal that we’re never told what they are.
So Palpatine asks Dooku to kidnap him at the Festival of Lights on Naboo. Dooku hires Moralo Eval to design a giant box-thingy to test bounty hunters to hire the best of them to kidnap Palpatine. Moralo then gets arrested to alert the Republic that something is afoot, and hires Cad Bane to break him out. Obi-Wan - undercover to learn Moralo’s plan - goes with them. They evade capture and go to Serenno, and Bane and Obi-Wan have to pass the box-thingy test. The level of brainkarked logic here... Truly on par with Megamind, Gru and Heinz Doofenshmirtz.
Setting aside the insane plot holes and utterly nonsensical behavior of the villains, the Box itself is moronic from a plot perspective. It’s insanely complex, obviously incredibly expensive and would have taken months (more like years but it’s a short war) to make when it’s not even needed for the dastardly plot! Just hire some guys who have already proven themselves against Jedi! Throw cash at Bane and Embo and a few others! Maybe attack them with your saber and see how they do! 
And after all that, Dooku still ends up trying to kidnap Palpatine on his own. I can’t even... 
So why does the Box exist? Well, apart from being a nerdy callback to Cube, giving us a good thrill and being generally awesome to look at, it has actual narrative purpose within the SW universe.
The box is Naboo.
What the Box lacks in plot relevance, it makes up for with its heavily symbolic meaning. It very closely follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s experiences on Naboo - but only certain parts, which I’ll explain later.
We start with clean, sterile environments, SW’s favored way of showing villainy.
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Then we have the protagonists locked in a room as dioxis, a poison gas, pours in.
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And then they escape... this way.
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(Okay, here the shaft is down, not up. And it’s not a ventilation shaft per say, it’s the designed escape route. Same difference).
We then skip most of TPM (namely, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discovering the droid army, finding Padmé, leaving Naboo, landing on Tatooine, going to Coruscant, etc, etc) to come back to Naboo and go directly to the lightsabers and catwalks.
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(Note: in both scenes, Obi-Wan has to propel himself from a catwalk.)
In TPM and TCW, the catwalks are immediately followed by ray shields
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And we finally end with the last scenes. Now, they don’t look the same but they are structurally identical. 
Obi-Wan is faced with a challenge unsuited for his abilities (facing Darth Maul // shooting three moving targets when he’s far more skilled with a blade than a blaster) on a narrow space above a melting pit/pit of fire. 
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He first watches someone die failing to complete the task...
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 ... and has to do it himself, faring much better than expected (holding his own against Maul // shooting all the targets easily). 
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He then almost falls to his death and gets saved unexpectedly.
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And then there’s the final showdown.
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In both scenes, Obi-Wan is angry. And in TCW Dooku eggs him on, banking on his anger. (More on that later.) In both cases though, he centers himself and is able to overcome both his opponent and his own unbalance. But in TCW, he doesn’t go for the kill, because he doesn’t need to. 
The Box, as a literal character-explorator ex-machina, thus shows us Obi-Wan’s growth.  
In TPM, Obi-Wan follows Qui-Gon’s lead. In TCW, he is the leader. He identifies the gas, makes the plans. He doesn’t fall from catwalks anymore - he runs atop moving ones. He doesn’t stay stuck behind ray-shields, he finds the solution. (Btw, how did Moralo know what blood type Derrown the Exterminator was? There was a 50% chance of him dying - thus killing all of the bounty hunters. Was that an acceptable outcome? TCW I need answers!) He doesn’t slay his foes, because he’s become powerful enough, skilled enough and wise enough to survive (and win) without needing to kill.
He’s grown - and, even more interestingly, he’s also stayed the same. In the previous episodes, we see some of the dark aspects of Obi-Wan. How he - like all Force-wielders, all people - could lose himself if he stopped maintaining absolute control.
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But in the Box, surrounded by the worst criminals of the Galaxy, the most ruthless, worthless people, he’s still kind and tries his best to keep them alive.
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The Box is a reminder and a reassurance for the audience that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still there under Rako’s face. He hasn’t lost his compassion, his restrain. He’s still a Jedi. And he’s an awesome, badass one. 
And now, for what it tells us about Dooku! 
It’s much shorter, don’t worry. Basically, Dooku considers that the best way to pick “the best of the best” of the deadliest people in the Galaxy is making them go through what killed his Padawan. There, I’ve broken your hearts, you’re welcome. 
More seriously, Dooku is a manipulative ass. It’s pretty clear that he knows Rako is Obi-Wan, or at the very least suspects it. 
He has an interesting reaction upon learning Rako’s identity, he keeps praising him despite his usual distaste for low-lifes, he smirks secretively after Eval says “I’ll show you who’s weak” (not included there because it’s a close-up of Dooku’s lips and no one wants to see that) and he tells Rako he’s very disappointed when he doesn’t finish off Eval.
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[Later]
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(Look at this smug asshole - I can’t. YOUR GRANDSON IS THE BEST, WE KNOW, STOP ACTIVELY RUINING HIS LIFE ALREADY.)
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(Dooku... why...)
Now obviously Dooku couldn’t have made the Box specifically for Obi-Wan, because it would have to have been designed months before the Council ever decided to send Obi-Wan undercover, but he has no qualms trying to use it to push Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Ffs Dooku, making your spiritual grandson relive one of the most traumatic events of his life on the off chance that he’ll join you (and desecrate his Master’s memory in doing so) is not okay!
Final tidbits of analysis: I mentioned that not all of TPM is mirrored in the Box. What’s omitted is the droids (even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight B1′s and droidekas between the dioxis and the ventilation shafts) and anything pertaining to Sidious (all the political stuff on Coruscant). You’ll also note that the fake lightsabers are orange.
=> The Box distances itself from anything that connects Dooku to Naboo. Red lightsabers are the trademark of the Sith, so they’re not used. The bounty hunters will be facing Jedi, so logically the fake sabers should be green or blue - and yet they’re orange, the color closest to red without being red. It fits with Dooku’s special brand of dishonesty - he always tells bits of the real story but twists them just enough to absolve himself of any fault and to justify his choices. 
(”We can destroy the Sith” -> could maybe destroy Sidious with Obi-Wan, but fails to mention he’s a Sith Lord himself; “the Viceroy came to me for help, that’s why I’m attacking the Republic” -> political idealism is a small part of it, but fails to mention he’s Sidious’ underling and is playing the Viceroy like a fiddle; “Qui-Gon would have joined me” -> maybe, still fails to mention he’s working for the man who ordered Qui-Gon’s death; “I told you everything you needed to know” -> debatable, never said that Palps was Sidious; “Sifo-Dyas understood, that’s why he helped me” -> partly true, doesn’t admit to killing Sifo-Dyas right after getting his help)
So we have a twisted version of Naboo, droid-free (as droids are now irrevocably associated with Dooku, even if that wasn’t the case in TPM) and with sabers that aren’t quite red. Keep in mind that Dooku had already fallen by TPM. (We know this because he killed Sifo-Dyas and created the Clone Army - part of Sidious’ plan - when Valorum was still Chancellor, as per the episode The Lost One.) That means Dooku was (in)directly complicit in Qui-Gon’s death. And the Box doesn’t (=refuses to?) acknowledge that. 
(Also omitted in the Box are the Gungans and Tatooine. It makes sense, because Dooku probably wouldn’t have the full details regarding those parts of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s missio as they weren’t as public, and would see them as irrelevant if he did. He utterly despises Anakin, and Gungans are the type of people he always dismisses out of hand). 
Anyway, that’s my two cents about the Box. To quote Lucas...
“It’s like poetry. It rhymes.”
Thanks to @lethebantroubadour @impossiblybluebox​ @nonbinarywithaknife @ytoz​ and @kaitie85386​ for voting for this one. Next up is a compilation of the Jedi being casually tactile with each other (because they’re a warm and affectionate culture, dammit).
Also thanks to @laciefuyu​ for giving me gifs I ended up not using ^^; you rock anyway!
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projectilecry · 1 year ago
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exactly. biden isn’t great. we all know that. but he’s miles better than the alternative. he’s miles better than trump, and miles better than whatever the republican party is coming up with right now.
you might say “oh well since i don’t like biden or trump/other republican candidate, i’m going to vote for a third party”. please don’t. at least not just because biden isn’t your absolute favorite. third parties have never and still do not have the power to pull votes in america like the democratic and republican parties do. sure we’re not technically a solely two party system, in that we do have more than two parties, and because more than two large parties are definitely possible in america if we wanted them, but we are effectively one.
vote for a third party candidate for your more local government if you like them the best and think they’ll do the best job 100%. vote for whoever you actually like most for primaries. but please don’t vote third party for president right now, at least not until a third party is popular, and i mean very popular. i mean polling at least 1/3rd of the vote.
vote democratic in the general election. if biden wins the primaries, fucking vote for biden. i know it sucks, but it’s the best option. because otherwise, if you vote third party that gets 1% of the vote total, you’re essentially “wasting” your vote on this type of situation. this type of situation absolutely sucks, and it really shouldn’t exist, but sadly it is the reality. (yes, no vote except one not cast at all is actually wasted, but in this case it often acts like a sort of sunk-cost fallacy. “wasted vote” is a loaded term and i don’t really like to use it because it’s typically very subjective, but it’s the best term i have here.)
if our political situation in america was normal right now, if we didn’t have one absolutely despicable and dangerous candidate, if both main candidates were alright and the differences between them were differences with small policy and not basic human fucking rights, voting third can be viable. it can be okay. but if we’re dealing with this type of situation, the kind where we’re picking the lesser of two evils, vote for the lesser of the two.
at this point in america, there’s no way a third party is going to win the presidential vote. voting third party in generals right now is basically equivalent to not doing anything, and even sometimes worse. we cannot once again afford the greater of two evils in office. the better of the two may not be ideal, may not be what we really want, but it’s definitely closer.
republicans are much more unlikely to vote third party, at least the trump fans/trump-esque liking ones. they’re going to vote for the republican elect. their vote will not be split over multiple candidates, they’ll be concentrated on one. democrats are much more likely to vote third party right now, because they don’t really like biden either, but that splits the vote. vote splitting can be very dangerous, and is something that many political elects, especially republican ones, intentionally attempt to cause by things like gerrymandering.
(vote splitting is what (likely) caused the outcome of the 2000 presidential election. it (likely) caused al gore to lose to george w bush because of the green party canadate ralph nadar getting enough votes to split votes that would have likely gone to al gore. ralph nader only got 2.7% of the popular vote that election, but he likely made a massive impact with just that small amount, and not necessarily in a good way. if al gore had won, america likely would never have gone into iraq.)
that makes it so that sure, 47% of people are voting for trump/the republican candidate, but only 46% are voting for biden/the democratic party candidate. the other 7% are going to third parties. this means that although 47% is less than half, and we usually think of the presidential election as being won by the candidate that gets more than half of the vote, that 47% in no way means that they are not winning. with third parties it makes it possible for a candidate to win without getting over 50% of the vote, which is entirely fine and valid, but it’s not intuitive when america is treated like an entirely two party system.
that 47% is still going to win. the views of the 7% that voted thirds and the 46% that voted democratic are probably more alike in ideas and views than they are to the republican sector, but that doesn’t mean that what is actually the popular view wins out. if the 7% that voted thirds voted democratic, the democratic candidate would have 53% of the vote, and would win. even if only 2% of those third party voters voted democratic, and 5% still voted third, the democratic party would win. the candidate that you have more similar views to would win, rather than the one whose views are less like yours.
again, it’s absolutely shit that this is so crucial right now. you should be able to vote for a third party or whoever you want, without feeling like you’re unintentionally hurting people. you should be able to actually vote for who you want most without unintentionally causing harm. but because of how america currently runs, it’s tricky. it doesn’t really work like that. and it’s shit, because it shouldn’t work like it does right now, it shouldn’t be fucked up, but it is. and we unfortunately need to accommodate for that.
please consider not voting third party for president. at least not for now. they may sound like a good idea, but they can be dangerous. we cannot afford another four years of trump or republican leadership. american politics has turned into a game, play it responsibly and play it well.
(plus, it’s not like trump or republican leadership would care about the issues that people are mad at biden for not taking a stronger or better stance on either. trump/republican leadership would not be doing anything more to help anyone in palestine or israel right now, would not be doing anything more to help the actual innocent civilians that are being killed en masse. would not be calling for a ceasefire. would not be doing anything more than probably trying to drop our own bombs there too. they would not be doing more to support minorities, to support women. they would be actively trying to ban abortion even more than they are already. they would be trying to ban gay people, yet again. they would be, and already are, trying to legislate trans people out of existence. would not be trying to help the people of ukraine any more, would not be trying to prevent more innocent civilians from being killed. would not be doing any more to prevent the rampant gun violence in america, in fact would be doing much less. would not be doing any more to help prevent innocent civilians around the world from being killed. i saw someone describe this election as “more war crimes” v.s. “less war crimes”, and that’s exactly what it is. please vote for less war crimes.)
People are talking about not voting for Biden.
Again.
I'm just so tired of this argument.
I just can't do Trump again.
I can't.
His incompetence killed so many people. A panel estimated 40% of COVID deaths could have been averted.
One of those deaths was my mother.
She was killed because people didn't trust the vaccines and they didn't think masks were worth the inconvenience. That man could have gone on TV and said "This is the Trump vaccine and it is great." He could have sold fucking MAGA masks on his website. He had 100% influence over his dipshit followers and could have used that for the greater good. But he was too vain to wear a mask in public and bungled the vaccine rollout.
And now I worry some of my trans loved ones may not make it through another far right administration. They have this giant target on their back right now and conservatives seem determined to eradicate as many trans lives as possible.
I wrote a whole ass post about how I didn't care for Biden. I still don't. But when I try to imagine what a right wing administration would be doing right now... that seems like it would be a nightmare orders of magnitude worse than the current nightmare.
As someone with an untreatable chronic illness, I know the feeling of being presented with choices where all of them suck. And I have had to survive by choosing the least sucky option over and over.
It feels bad every single time.
I hate it.
And I still fucking choose.
It should be different. There should be better choices. I shouldn't have to choose the least bad thing among all bad things.
But there are people and things in this world I feel are worth sticking around for, so I continue to choose the least sucky thing.
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starshine583 · 4 years ago
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New Girl on the Block (3)
(Hey guys! finally got around to posting chapter three of this! There’s a second, mini series connected to this that’s called Journal Entries. You don’t have to read it to understand the plot, but I felt like it would be fun to write so enjoy it if you like!)
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 4
Chapter 3: There’s a First Time for Everything
Adrien tapped his pencil against his notebook paper and nestled his cheek into his open palm with a sigh. It’s been a little over a week since Marinette exchanged schools, and he’s yet to talk with her about it. He tried visiting her the day Ms. Bustier informed them of the transfer, but Marinette wasn’t home. Naturally, he tried again the next day and actually managed to catch her, but then she ran off. Ran off! Adrien still couldn’t believe it. Why would she run from him? 
“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked, giving him a light nudge.
Adrien straightened slightly. “Ah, yeah, just.. Just thinking.”
Alya scoffed behind him. “Don’t tell me you’re still moping about Marinette.” 
Needless to say, the class didn’t exactly share Adrien’s sentiment about Marinette’s leaving. With all of Lila’s stories circling around, they were overjoyed that the “bully” was gone. Alya was low-key furious, ranting about “injustices” and “letting Marinette run from the consequences of her actions”, but other than that, everyone was pleased with the outcome.
Everyone except Adrien.
Adrien knew better. The class may think that they’re better off without the bluenette, but he knew for certain that they were all going to drown without her. Marinette organized the budgets, supplied the goods for bake sales, signed off all of the paperwork for their trips- she even made dresses for the girls on special occasions. They needed her. That’s why he had to get her back. If only he could find time out of his packed schedule to visit her again..
“Alright, everyone, settle down.” Ms. Bustier spoke up. “The results for the new class president are in.”
Adrien sunk further into his seat. Ah, yes. The new class president, another reason Marinette should have stayed. With her gone, they had to make an impromptu election. Chloe, of course, ran again, but Lila decided to run as well. With the class’ obvious loyalty towards Lila, it’s a wonder Ms. Bustier didn’t announce the brunette as the president right there and save everyone the trouble.
Ms. Bustier pulled out a small card with the results and cleared her throat. “With a near-unanimous vote, the new class president will be Lila Rossi.”
The class cheered, and Lila gasped as if she hadn’t expected this to happen.
“Thank you all so much!” She beamed.
Alya slung her arm around Lila’s shoulders. “You deserve it, girl.”
Chloe scoffed from her seat and crossed her arms, but no one acknowledged the show of disdain. They were too busy congratulating their beloved Lila.
“Congratulations Lila. You can visit Marinette after school to get the paperwork from her.” Ms. Bustier said, setting her cards aside.
Adrien straightened. Someone had to go visit Marinette? “I’ll do it!”
The classroom paused at the outburst.
“Oh, Adrien you don’t have to do that for me.” Lila remarked with a grateful tone.
“Oh, no, it’s my pleasure.” Adrien was quick to reply.
A hint of annoyance flicked across Lila’s features, but it quickly vanished when Alya said, “Yeah, Lila, you shouldn’t have to suffer through that.”
A smile forced its way onto the Italian girl’s lips. “Thanks, but I think it’s only right that I meet with her in person. Class president to Class president and all.”
Alya frowned. “Well, at least let me go with you. I don’t want her trying to pull anything.”
“Oh, Alya,” Lila sighed, patting the red-head’s hand, “It’s just a small visit. I’m sure Marinette and I can be civil about this.”
Alya reluctantly agreed, but if anyone had actually been paying attention, they might have seen Lila’s smirk.
~~~~~~
The soft rhythm of Felix and Allegra’s instruments floated around the music room as they played. Marinette never imagined the violin and the flute sounding well together, but the way Felix and Allegra harmonized had her swaying back and forth with the melody. It was a lovely song, and she couldn’t help closing her eyes to fully relish the masterpiece. 
Her eyes snapped open a second later, though, as her entire body jolted from the large calamity of piano keys that was suddenly pounded on by Claude. Felix startled as well, his violin flying off key, and Allegra nearly dropped her flute. 
“Again, Claude?” Allegra sighed, placing her hands on her hips.
Claude leaned back on the piano stool with his palms and flashed them an innocent smile. “What? I was only helping.”
Marinette held back a smile, but Felix wasn’t amused.
“I told you to stop doing that.” He scolded with a scowl. “You’re going to get our music room privileges revoked!”
“Good. You guys practice too much, anyway.” 
Allegra gave Claude a flat look. “We need to practice if we’re going to get better.”
“But you already sound great.” 
“Because we practice.” Felix replied pointedly.
Marinette subtly nodded in agreement. She didn’t want to get directly involved in their arguments, as that never seemed to go well.
Claude huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Waste your time on endless practice. I’m gonna do something more productive with my time.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”
Claude turned to lay across the piano bench while throwing Marinette a smile. “Like making croissants! We’re still coming to your house, right?”
Marinette returned his smile, secretly relieved that he didn’t ask her to do something outrageous like going to chase pigeons around the park while on roller blades. (Yes, that’s happened several times in the past week, and yes, each time she’s said no.) 
“Yeah, but you guys are coming over tomorrow.” She told him. 
He pumped a fist into the air. “Yes! I can’t wait!!”
“Neither can I.” Allegra admitted. “Your parents sound splendid.”
Marinette’s smile widened. “I’m sure you’ll all get along great.”
“Yes, I’m sure.. If we can practice enough to go straight to your house after classes tomorrow.” Felix remarked, shooting Claude another look.
Claude tisked, waving a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Get back to your music already.”
Allegra gave a short laugh, sarcastically stating, “Oh, thank you so much. I was wondering when you would give us permission to play.”
“I know, I’m such a generous person.” Claude joked back.
Allegra playfully rolled her eyes and held up her flute to resume playing. Felix followed along, and Marinette went back to swaying as their song continued. 
-
The familiar ring of the customer bell brought a smile to Marinette’s lips as she opened the bakery door. 
Her mother, Sabine, looked up from the cashier desk with a warm smile. “Marinette! How was music practice?”
“It was wonderful, Maman. Felix and Allegra play beautifully.” Marinette answered as she walked inside. She set her bag next to the counter and gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. “Is everything ready for them to come over tomorrow?”
Sabine nodded. “Tom’s got the ingredients and tables ready for when they get here. He’s so excited to meet them, and so am I.”
Marinette chuckled. “They’re excited to meet you guys too.”
Sabine’s smile widened at the comment, but then her expression darkened as she said, “Hopefully they’re not two-faced and backstabbing like your previous classmates.”
Marinette gasped. “Mom!” 
“Well, it’s true!” Sabine replied defensively.
It was true, but that didn’t mean Marinette was any less surprised to hear her maman talk that way. Of course, Sabine did tend to speak her mind when Marinette’s feelings were involved. 
Before she could respond, the doorbell rang again, signaling a new customer’s arrival. Marinette turned with her mother to offer them a greeting, but stopped short when she saw exactly who the new customer was.
Lila Rossi stood in the doorway, a smug smirk on her lips as she eyed Marinette up and down. “I see you’re doing well.”
Sabine was in front of Marinette in the blink of an eye. “You are not welcome in this bakery. Leave immediately before I call the cops.”
A look of feigned hurt crossed the Italian girl’s expression. “How rude! I only came here per Mme Bustier’s request. I have to get the formal papers from our previous class president.”
Marinette narrowed her eyes, stepping around Sabine with crossed arms. “I suppose you’re the new class president then?”
Lila’s smile returned, sharp and triumphant. “By a near-unanimous vote. Alya is still the deputy though, since she practically begged me to let her help.”
Marinette’s lips tightened into a thin line. That sounded about right. “How nice for you. You two really do deserve each other.”
When Lila first came around, Marinette had been torn and heartbroken about her friends abandoning her for a stranger. It didn’t help that Adrien kept assuring her that everything would be fine, that they didn’t mean what they said. He gave her false hope, and it made it all the harder to find the courage to leave. 
Now, she’s realized how toxic her old environment had become, and though it still hurt her to think about it, Marinette knew she couldn’t let them affect her anymore.
Lila faltered at Marinette’s uncaring tone. “Uh.. right. Where are those papers again?”
“Up in my room.” Marinette moved towards the stairs, bringing Sabine back behind the counter as she did. “I’ll go get them now.”
“Good.” Lila said, sounding satisfied. “I’ll be waiting outside, but don’t take your time. I’m supposed to go meet Alya and the girls for a girl’s night out.” 
Marinette rolled her eyes at the obvious jab, but continued up the stairs anyway. The sooner she got the papers, the sooner that lying leech could leave.
She swiftly ran up to her room and gathered the papers to stuff them into the large, blue binder she’d been given only two semesters ago. It sunk into her arms as she picked it up, and the sheer weight of the packed binder made her smile as she brought it back outside, especially when she saw Lila’s panicked expression.
“Um.. What is that?” The brunette asked, pointed at the binder.
“Oh, this?” Marinette replied innocently. “This is just the binder that holds all the formal papers you need. Being class president takes a lot of work you know.”
Lila nearly toppled over when Marinette dropped the binder into her arms. 
“That’s allergies, budgets, complaints, schedules, and trips!” Marinette told her with a grin. “But don’t forget to give Mme Bustier and Principle Damocles the proper reports each semester.”
Lila shot her a scowl, but quickly recovered, slipping on a smile of her own. “No need to be petty, Marinette. It’s fine to admit you’re breaking inside. Losing all your friends can be a hard thing to go through.”
Marinette’s grin faded slightly, knowing that Lila was right. She’d lost everything. All of her childhood friends, her crush, her fun teachers, anything she used to hold dear.
But maybe that was a good thing.
“Have fun sorting through the binder.” She said, spinning on her heel and walking inside. She had better things to do than listen to someone who had to lie just to get people to like them. 
The bakery door closed behind her, and Marinette saw Lila leave out of the corner of her eye, taking the painful memories with her.
~~~~~~
Friday afternoon. 4:45pm.
Felix stared at the bakery door, unsure how to proceed. The group had originally agreed to walk straight to Marinette’s house after school, but they changed the plan last minute to come back at five, an hour after school ended. It gave Marinette’s parents time to finish up the preparations, and the rest of the group time to drop off their school bags at their homes. 
Felix, as usual, arrived at the Dupain-Cheng’s early, but now he was doubting his actions. On one hand, he would get to meet the Dupain-Cheng’s without the chaos that the trio tended to bring. It would be a nice way for him to get a quick impression of the family over-all. 
On the other hand, he’s at Marinette’s house before the time she specifically told them to come, which could be considered rude in some cases. Should he go inside or wait in a nearby cafe?
After a few more minutes of debating, Felix stepped forward and knocked on the door. If they really needed him to wait until five, he would apologize and come back in ten minutes. The opportunity to meet the Dupain-Cheng’s on a one-on-one basis was too good to pass up.
It only took a moment for the door to open, and a short, asain woman greeted him with a sweet smile. “Hello! I’m assuming you’re one of Marinette’s friends from school?” 
Felix nodded, noting her raven hair that matched Marinette’s perfectly. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Felix.”
He stiffened slightly when she reached forward to take his hand in both of hers. “It’s great to finally meet you! Marinette has told us so much about you all.” 
A small smile passed his lips. For some reason, that knowledge gave him a satisfied feeling. Assuming that the talk was good, that is. “She’s talked a lot about you as well. I’m assuming you’re Mme Dupain-Cheng?”
The woman waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please, call me Sabine.”
‘Sabine’ showed him inside, where baked goods lined the walls in glass cases. Claude was going to lose his mind when he got here. The overwhelming scent of vanilla and cinnamon alone was going to be enough to make the brunette’s mouth water.
“This is my husband, Tom.” Sabine introduced, gesturing to a tall, burly man at the cashier desk. “Tom, this is one of Marinette’s friends, Felix.”
Felix would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by the man. His head almost grazed the ceiling as he approached them, making Sabine look like a dwarf in comparison. Felix felt like a dwarf in comparison.
Tom offered a wide, hearty grin, though that didn’t help Felix’s unease. “Ah, Felix! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”
The man scooped Felix up into a bear hug, squeezing him tightly to his chest. Felix would have replied to his greeting had he been able to breathe. 
“Oh, Papa!”
Felix glanced over Tom’s shoulder- he’d been raised that high -and saw Marinette standing in another doorway behind the cashier counter, a slight cringe in her expression.
“Papa, put poor Felix down before he passes out from lack of oxygen!” She insisted, walking forward to tug on her father’s arm.
“Oh that’s.. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Felix wheezed as Tom set him down. 
Marinette’s hands hovered around him for a moment, then she nervously clasped them together. “I-I’m so sorry, I should have warned you. I thought I was going to be down here when you guys arrived.”
Felix shook his head and bent over slightly to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. They actually remind me of my own mother. She’s a rather adamant hugger herself.”
A relieved smile came to Marinette’s lips. “Really? I didn’t think anyone could be as ‘homely’ as my parents.”
Felix chuckled, but the customer bell jingled again before he could reply. Claude sauntered inside a second later, his arms spread as wide as his grin. 
“We’re here~!” The brunette sang, looking around the shop. His gaze found Felix’s flat one almost immediately.
“Hey!” Claude gasped, pointing accusingly at Felix. “He beat us here!”
Allegra stepped out from behind Claude, wearing a curious expression. That quickly changed to knowing smirk, though, as she shot him a playfully scolding look. “Why, Felix! I’m surprised at you! You should know more than anyone how rude it is to arrive at someone’s house early.”
Felix grimaced at the reminder of his bad manners and quickly turned to apologize.
“Oh don’t be silly!” Sabine said before he could get a word out. “Any friends of Marinette are friends of ours. You guys are welcome here anytime.”
Claude lit up at the sentiment. “I’m gonna be here a lot then.”
Allan popped out from behind Claude and Allegra. “Thank you for hosting us, M. and Mme Dupain-Cheng.”
Felix held back a smirk. He’d wondered when Allan would show himself.
“Please, call us Tom and Sabine.” Tom replied in a casual, yet booming voice. It highly contradicted his wife and daughter, who tended to speak in soft tones. “Follow me. I’ll show you where the kitchen is.”
The group was led into a room in the back where three islands stood in the center, each equally parted from each other. A large counter lined the wall to the left as well, and two, large ovens sat on each end of said counter.
“Do you guys want to start from scratch or start with pre-made dough?” Tom asked.
“Oh! Scratch! I want to be able to make these at home!” Claude answered eagerly. 
Tom smiled. “Alright! Scratch it is. Everyone take the needed ingredients on the counter.”
The group took a moment to pass around the items, then they separated to find a counter. Allan took the first counter with Tom, and Allegra and Claude stole the last counter, leaving the middle counter for Marinette and Felix. 
“I’m glad you guys got to come.” Marinette commented as they aligned their ingredients on the shared countertop.
Felix nodded. “I think Claude’s going to get a sugar-crash before we leave.”
Marinette snorted. “With all of those baked goods in the other room? I’d be surprised if he makes it to supper.”
Felix spared her a glance. “Are we staying for supper?”
Marinette paused, having to think out her answer. She must not have noticed the implication when she said it. “Uh.. I mean.. I wouldn’t mind. Do you guys want to stay for supper?”
Felix shrugged, though the idea sounded perfect. It would give him more time to understand the Dupain-Cheng’s lifestyle. “I’m sure Allegra and Claude will be ecstatic over the news. I’d have to contact my mother about the change in schedule, though.”
“Oh, were you planning something with her tonight?” Marinette asked, worry lacing her tone. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to.” Felix hastily amended. “I simply need to tell my mother that I won’t be home for supper tonight. We always have a family dinner when everyone is available.”
“And you won’t miss it?”
“Well, it sounds like it’s a special occasion, but everyone’s available more often than you’d expect.” 
Marinette tilted her head up and mouthed an ‘oh’. “I’ll tell Maman that you’re staying, then. She was sort of planning supper for all of you anyway.”
Felix smiled. Given the daily croissants that the group’s received since their first lunch with Marinette, that didn’t surprise him. Mme Sabine had proven to be an extremely kind and charitable person, much like her daughter.
Tom, once his own ingredients were in order, regained the room’s attention and began showing them how to make the croissants. Because he was in the front, it was easy to see how the ingredients were supposed to be thrown in and follow along. That said, Felix found himself extremely grateful to have Marinette as a partner. Her little tips on how to mix the dough helped him immensely, especially since she told him when his mixing was sufficient.
“Alright,” Tom sighed as he set his bowl to the side, “Now that the dough is done, we’re going to start the hard part. Everyone needs to get some flour so we can start rolling the dough and folding it. Marinette, if you would.”
Marinette sprang from her place next to Felix and crossed the room to a cabinet. She pulled it open and grabbed a large bag of flour that appeared to be at least a fourth full, then carried it to the long counter against the wall and set it down with a huff. 
“Here’s the flour that you all are going to be using.” Tom explained. “That should be plenty, but if you need more-”
A light knock on the doorframe ahead of them caused Tom to trail off. Felix glanced at the door to see Mme Sabine standing there, holding a sheepish smile.
“Tom, dear. I know you’re busy, but could you help me with this customer real quick?” She asked politely. “They’re being.. difficult.”
Felix noted the sharpness of her smile, along with the iron grip she had on the doorframe. It appeared that the sweet, loving mother also had a temperance, though he didn’t blame her. Customers had a tendency to be massive pains for retail workers. (That included himself on a few shameful occasions.)
M. Tom’s nervous smile said it all as he joined his wife at the door. “Oh, of course. Uh.. children, just- just keep doing what you’re doing. Marinette will show you how to roll the dough if necessary.”
The parents left the room, causing the rest of the group to turn to Marinette for instruction.
Marinette, who had returned to Felix’s side by that point, shrank slightly at the sudden attention. “Oh, uhm.. Do any of you know how to fold dough?”
A short laugh came from Allegra in the back. “Mari, I’m quite certain that none of us have even touched uncooked food before.”
“That’s the price you pay for being rich.” Allan agreed, putting a hand to his chest and shaking his head with feigned grief. 
Felix opted not to comment. His mother rather enjoyed cooking, much to their butler’s dismay. She often cooked their family meals, and every now and then, Felix found himself helping. “It’s a necessary skill.” she would tell him. “Your future wife will thank me and so will you.”
Why his mother assumed he would be able to tolerate anyone long enough to marry them was beyond him.
“Oh, how horrible for you.” Marinette retorted with a playful eye roll. “I guess I’ll show you how to fold dough then. For your sakes.”
“We are forever grateful.” Claude joked.
Marinette laughed and scooped up her bowl, bringing it to the front with Allan for all of them to see. 
“Now, everyone needs to get some flour. We’ll start with Claude and Allegra getting some. That way, the flour will work its way to the front by the time we’re done.” She instructed.
Felix nodded. That sounded like a reasonable plan.
Claude walked over to grab the bag as told and hauled it back to his and Allegra’s table. “How much are we going to need?”
“Oh, not much.” Marinette answered. “You only need some on the table and some on the dou- Claude, wait!”
Claude tipped the bag of flour upwards, expecting it to slide smoothly onto the table. Instead, the flimsy ingredient smacked into the table in a large clump, causing white dust to explode into the air. Felix scrunched up his nose in annoyance. How were they supposed to mix that? How easily did it spread? He knew he should have worn something less formal. (Oh, who was he kidding? Felix didn’t have anything less formal.)
An apologetic whimper came from Marinette, as if any of this was her fault. Claude and Allegra quickly fell into a coughing fit as Claude dropped the flour bag onto the ground. Of course, dropping the bag only threw more dust into the air. 
The two attempted to wave the dust away, but it only partly worked. When the dust did finally clear, though, Claude and Allegra were left with a small pile of flour on their table. The rest of the flour was either in the air or draped across their clothes and hair.
“Wow.” Felix stated dryly. “I’m impressed. You actually managed to wait until M. Tom left before making a complete mess of yourselves and the room.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it u-” Claude’s retort was cut off by another coughing fit, but Allegra continued it for him.
“I don’t see you rolling out your dough in a perfectly clean and pristine manner.”
“That’s because you used up the rest of the flour.” Felix shot back.
Marinette gasped. “Is it really all gone?”
Claude and Allegra, suddenly dawning a sheepish expression, looked down at the bag that was still on the floor. Claude reached down to pick it up, but, as if the situation weren’t bad enough already, he grabbed the wrong end and pulled it up upside down. 
The last bits of flour trickled to the floor, spreading across the brunette’s legs.
“...Yeah. It’s all-” He let out another cough “-gone.”
Allan’s eyes widened, a mixture of admiration and mortification swirling onto his features. “How did you waste an entire bag of flour on one spill?”
“You’d be surprised.” Marinette muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. 
“We can reimburse you.” Allegra was quick to offer. “How much did the flour cost? Do you take checks?”
A light chuckle fell from Marinette’s lips. “No, no, that’s not necessary. I’ve.. actually done worse.”
Claude’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You’ve done worse?”
Felix thought over the many falls that Marinette had had over the past week. Her clumsiness certainly made it possible to have more extreme accidents. 
“What do we do now that the flour is gone?” He asked, trying to get the group back on track. The sooner they finished baking the croissants, the sooner he could examine the rest of Marinette’s house instead of sitting in the kitchen. The Dupain-Chengs appeared to be a lively, fun-loving family, but he’d only gotten a small taste of their life, only seen the tip of the iceberg. Felix wanted to absorb as many details as possible before leaving. 
Marinette straightened. “Oh! There’s actually more flour in the back! I’ll go get it.”
Before Felix could offer any assistance- his curiosity piqued about where they might store more food -the ravenette had already left the room, disappearing through another doorway in the back. 
A moment later, she returned, another large bag of flour in her hands. This time, however, the bag was full. Felix vaguely wondered how heavy the bags must weigh for her to be wobbling over with one so easily. Wasn’t flour supposed to be heavy?
“Here’s a fresh bag of flo-ou-ah!” Marinette’s words jumbled into jargon when her foot caught on her ankle. Her body lunged forward from the momentum, and Felix stepped up to catch her on reflex.
Bad idea. 
Due to the weight of the flour bag yanking her downwards, Marinette crashed into Felix’s and dragged him to the floor with her. His back hit the floor with a painful *thud*, immediately sucking all of the air from his lungs. 
Of course, the flour bag popped open upon impact, sending more white dust directly into his face. Between the weight of Marinette and the flour, along with his aching lungs and the suffocating dust, Felix was convinced that he was about to die right then and there on the bakery floor. 
Felix Culpa: tragically taken from this world by a bag of flour and a clumsy classmate. What a way to go.
“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Felix. Are you okay??” Marinette asked frantically, pushing herself off of him. 
Felix coughed out a weak response with what little oxygen he had. Even without Marinette, the flour bag pressed into his chest like a block of concrete. How had she been carrying this without breaking a sweat earlier?
Marinette hauled the bag off of him, and Felix sucked in a deep breath despite the flour still cluttering the atmosphere. All he needed right now was some sweet, blessed air. Infected or no.
It wasn’t until he regained enough of his senses to push himself up into a sitting position that he heard Claude’s howling laughter.
“Oh, man!” The brunette cackled. “And you thought we were bad! Look at you, Fe! You’re a ghost!”
Felix glanced down at his clothes, which were indeed covered in white. He could even feel the weight of the flour in his hair. How long was this going to take to wash out? Was he going to have to buy new clothes before going home?
A snort brought his gaze upwards, where Marinette stood with the bag of flour. She had a hand on her mouth- holding the bag of flour with one hand -and a barely contained smile on her lips that she was obviously trying to hide. 
That’s when Felix knew that he must be looking ridiculous. 
“At least I wasn’t the one to cause the mess.” Felix grumbled in response to Claude. He reached up to start brushing some of the flour out of his hair, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that Marinette was white with flour as well. It might have been irksome if she had escaped her fall unscathed while he appeared to be a freshly made snowman.
“I am. So sorry.” Marinette apologized again, this time offering him her hand to help him up.
Felix took it, his bafflement towards her uncanny amount of strength only growing as she managed to pull him up with one arm and keep the bag of flour steady in her other arm.
“It’s..” not your fault. Was what he was about to say, except that would be a lie. It was entirely her fault.
“It’s fine.” He said instead. “It’s just clothes.”
“Wow~” Allegra sang, immediately latching onto Felix’s nerves. “‘It’s just clothes’? That’s a first.”
“Remember that time Felix threatened to sue us for enough money to buy a new wardrobe if we ‘got so much as one drop of food on his vest’?” Allan chimed in.
Embarrassment coiled around Felix’s stomach, though he wasn’t sure why. That designer outfit was expensive! And the trio was acting especially chaotic that day. Who knows what might have happened had he not put his foot down when they started joking about a food fight.
Felix whipped around to Allan to explain that exact reasoning, but something caught his attention, causing him to pause. Allan was still at the front of the room, the farthest position from the chaos that had just ensued. Aside from the stray dust still fluttering around the room, the man was completely untouched as far as flour was concerned. 
“Marinette,” He said, catching the girl’s eye, “I do believe that Allan hasn’t gotten his flour yet.”
Marinette’s gaze flicked to Allan, then to the bag, and Felix prayed that he assessed her correctly. Because if Allan didn’t get flour on him this instant, Felix might be tempted to do something foolish. Like attempting to throw a bag of flour that was, without a doubt, too heavy for him to even lift on his own.
The barest hints of amusement lit up Marinette’s features. “You know what? I think you’re right.”
Felix smiled, feeling a devilish satisfaction. Yes!
Allan took a step back, suddenly looking very concerned. 
“Woah, w-wait a second, guys.” He squeaked, holding up his hands as Marinette inched forward. “L-Let’s talk about this!”
“One of us. One of us.” Claude began chanting behind them. “One of us! One of us!”
Allegra joined in, and, in the spirit of things, Felix joined in as well, if only to push Marinette further towards his goal.
Allan bumped into his assigned counter while trying to put useless distance between himself and Marinette. “Please, no! It’s rare that I come out of these things unscathed!”
Marinette’s grin was downright predatory as she held up the bag of flour. “I can’t imagine why.”
Allan’s scream was the last thing Felix heard before Marinette swung the flour bag forward. 
The entire room erupted into uncontrollable laughter as Allan coughed out at least half the bag. He was now stark white from head to toe, and Felix couldn’t be prouder. It served him right for poking the bear.
Allan hung his head in defeat, a bit of flour falling off of his head from the action. This only made the group laugh harder. Claude started to say something about the “set being complete”, but before he could finish-
“What is going on?!” 
M. Tom reappeared in the doorway, his eyes wide and puzzled as he stared at the flour-covered room. 
Felix froze. Right. They were supposed to be baking with Marinette’s parents. 
Marinette set the flour bag down immediately. “I’m sorry, Papa, this is all my fault.”
“No, that’s not fair!” Claude protested. “Allegra and I spilled the flour bag first!”
“So she had to go get more!” Allegra continued the explanation.
“I’m the one who told her to throw the fresh flour at Allan.” Felix added. If anyone was to get in trouble, it should certainly be him. He was the only one who actually spilled the flour on purpose. Marinette didn’t deserve to take the blame for his petty actions.
M. Tom furrowed at the near-simultaneous remarks, but then let out a hearty laugh.
“I see you’ve all gotten into the baking spirit!” He declared. “Now who wants to learn how to actually fold dough?”
Felix blinked. He’d expected the man to be at least a little upset. Did this sort of thing happen often? Or was Marinette’s father simply that forgiving? M. Tom did refer to the mess as ‘the baking spirit’.. Whatever that means.
“Yeah we do!” Claude shouted enthusiastically, taking Felix from his thoughts.
“Great! Let’s start with putting the flour on the table.” Tom smiled, going back to his original spot next to Allan.
Felix followed the notion, going back to his original spot as well. He tried brushing more of the flour off of his vest, but, as expected, it didn’t help much. He was probably going to get more flour on him during the folding process anyway.
“Don’t worry.” Marinette whispered as she reclaimed her spot next to him. “I’ll let you guys wash up in the bathroom after this. If you want to, that is.”
Felix nodded. “I would be eternally grateful.” 
Marinette giggled. “..So did you really threaten to sue them over your clothes?”
Felix paused his kneading long enough to sigh. Freaking Allan. That idiot deserved every speck of flour dust that he had on him.
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fiddlepickdouglas · 4 years ago
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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 1 - Ribbit
Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, THE meetcute of meetcutes. 2.1k
Edit: thank you so much @trevor-wilson-covington for the pretty edit!! I'm in love with it!
Alex drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the van. The drive from Los Angeles to Vegas was just short of four hours, but it had been an early morning and it was going to be a long day. He was feeling the carsickness sit just under the threshold of dangerous and rolled down the window.
“Whoo! Twenty miles boys!” Luke called out as they passed a sign on the freeway, clapping Bobby on the shoulder from behind.
“Woohoo!” Bobby responded in excitement.
“Think you’re gonna make it, buddy?” Reggie looked over at Alex. Alex turned only a fraction of the way toward his friend and gave a half-hearted nod.
“Hey man, let us know if we gotta pull over,” Luke said.
He simply nodded. Next time he wasn’t going to sit in the back.
The other three were jamming to whatever Luke was riffing on his guitar. Bobby thankfully drove at a slower pace as they approached the final stretch toward their destination. The ache in his stomach didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse so he was banking on it calming down once they stopped.
“Hey, guys, we wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast first?” Bobby called out to the rest of them.
“Oh yeah!” Reggie said. “I think I could go for some pancakes.”
“Oh, pancakes sound real good right now.” Luke echoed.
“Alex?” Bobby peeked into the rearview mirror at him.
Looking up from the view outside, he just shrugged. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he could handle food no matter what it was.
Eventually they pulled off the freeway and kept their eyes peeled for an open restaurant.
“I see pancakes!” Reggie cried, pointing at his target.
“They’ve got an arcade next door, I second that vote!” Bobby said.
As they parked and clambered out of the van, the boys stretched and shook their limbs. They entered the diner and found a booth, practically collapsing together on the table. Alex placed his face in his hands and tried taking in deep breaths to calm his stomach. A sudden voice was heard beside the table.
“Good morning starshines, the earth says hello! How are we doing today?” Sounded like a waiter. Alex felt rude, but didn’t bother to look up. He felt Luke nudge a menu under his elbow.
“Oh, we’re hungry!” Reggie responded.
“Awesome, guys,” the waiter said. “Anything I can get started for you?”
“We’ll go with water,” Luke spoke for everyone at the table. “And, sorry about him, he’s not feeling good.” Alex assumed this was about him and sighed.
“Okay, so water for everybody? Alright, I’ll just grab those for you while you prepare your orders.”
As the waiter left, Luke tapped Alex’s shoulder.
“How you doin’, Alex?”
“Not blowing chunks, I guess,” he groaned.
“Hey, guys,” Bobby started saying. “How about we pick what we wanna eat, and then I want to check out the arcade while we wait for our food.”
“That’s a good idea,” Reggie said, perking up. “I hope they have Galaga.”
“I’m down,” Luke said. “Alex, you wanna wait here for us? You can give the guy our orders and then just chill.”
“Maybe that stomach will settle down,” Reggie added.
Alex lowered his hands and rested them on the table.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I need the space anyway. Thanks.”
“Cool,” Luke hopped up from his seat. “Uh, I’ll just do the buttermilk pancakes.”
“Make that two buttermilk pancakes!” Reggie said, holding up his fingers.
“Eggs and sausage,” Bobby told him. “And buttermilk pancakes.” He patted Alex on the back as the three of them ventured next door.
At least they were easy to remember. Alex looked around the restaurant as he kept breathing in and out slowly. He was the only person there. That was surprising for a diner just outside of Vegas around ten in the morning. He didn’t mind the quiet, though. Having all this space to himself was already helping him feel better.
A guy with long dark hair approached him with a tray carrying glasses of water. Alex gulped as he watched, his breath catching in his throat. He took in the tie-dye shirt, the ripped jeans, and puka shell necklace and guessed he was probably from California as well.
“Whoa, where’d they all go?” the waiter asked, smiling a little in confusion.
Alex blinked.
“They, uh, they went to the arcade,” he managed to get out. He couldn’t help it, this guy had a nice smile.
“Ah,” the guy raised his eyebrows and began placing the water on the table. “And they left you behind? That sucks.”
“I’m okay,” Alex said. “We’ve just been on the road for a bit and I got kinda carsick, so I needed some space anyway.”
“I’m sorry, man,” the waiter said. “Did they decide what to eat before they bailed?”
“Uh, yeah,” Alex shifted to face him better. “They all want buttermilk pancakes and then one guy also wants eggs and sausage.”
“Three buttermilks…” the guy muttered as he wrote them down. “Eggs and sausage. And do you know what you want?”
He looked directly into Alex’s eyes as he rested the tray under his arm and it took everything Alex had not to melt right there. Don’t look at his lips, he thought. He was pretty sure his eyes had betrayed him but he forced his gaze downward as a cover.
“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered. “I actually forgot to look at the menu.”
“Right, ‘cuz you were carsick, sorry” the waiter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Alex bit his tongue.
“I should probably get some food still,” he managed to say. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
“Right on. I could recommend some toast - that’s always easy on the stomach. That comes with eggs, and I could add in some banana for you.”
“That actually sounds great,” Alex told him. “I’ll just do that, then.”
The waiter smiled and bit his lip.
“‘Kay!” He lifted the tray from under his arm and headed back toward the kitchen, doing a little skip before disappearing inside.
Alex felt his hands shaking and he sat on them for a minute. Looking around the empty diner, a thought occurred that somehow with just him and the waiter it had seemed full. The strange feeling crept all over him, like a new exhilarating energy, and he moved his hands back up. The waiter popped back out of the kitchen and came back toward Alex in a cavalier fashion.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have other people to help and I feel bad leaving you all by yourself in here.”
“Make yourself at home,” Alex said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Make yourself at home? What is that? he berated himself.
The guy extended a hand for him to shake. “I’m Willie, by the way.”
“Alex.” As he took it, Alex returned the firm grip he received and they both chuckled a bit at noticing each other’s strength. Willie sat down and immediately grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.
“So you said you and your friends have a long day ahead of you?” he asked.
“Oh right,” Alex couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the guys for a minute. “We’re a band, so we’ve got a gig opening for Julie Molina tonight.”
“Wicked,” Willie smiled and nodded, folding the napkin into something Alex wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be. “Who’s Julie Molina?”
“Oh, she’s just a good solo artist - does a little bit of everything. My buddy Luke is really into her.”
Willie nodded some more, continuing to fold the napkin.
“And who are you guys?”
“We’re Sunset Curve,” Alex said. “I’m the drummer.”
“Right on! You guys just becoming a thing?” Willie raised his eyebrows.
“I mean, I guess so,” Alex hadn’t exactly thought about it. “Opening for Julie is a big step for us.”
He watched Willie’s hands work until he finished. It turned out to be an origami frog.
“Ribbit,” Willie said, pressing on the top to make it look like it was moving. The napkin material didn’t exactly lend to bouncing up and down, which made them both giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be distracting.”
“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “It’s entertaining.”
He realized how widely he was smiling and laughed to himself.
“What about you?” he asked.
Willie straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair again. He flailed his arms and blew out his cheeks before holding one arm with the other and leaning on the table.
“Making it on my own for now. I just do whatever feels good, you know? Make a few bucks, get out and enjoy what I find. Don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”
Wow, Alex wanted that kind of chill. He picked up the origami frog.
“What do you do when you’re not here? Besides these, of course.”
Willie shrugged.
“Skate. Be free.” He smiled, but sighed heavily. Alex saw a distant look in his eyes, but knew now wasn’t a time to address it. “I see Vegas in all its glory. You should see the lights at night.”
“Won’t I see them tonight?”
Willie shook his head.
“Not the right way,” he told him. “Not at the right angle. I would show you, but you’ve got your gig and everything.”
Alex opened his mouth to reply, but a head stuck out of the kitchen door. A man with dark hair and chiseled features looked at Willie and all he did was glare authoritatively.
“I’m - coming,” Willie stammered, rising from his seat.
Alex realized his mouth was still open and he shut it, unhappily swallowing what he’d wanted to say.
“That was my boss,” Willie said, already in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back when your food’s ready.” He rushed off and the diner felt empty and cold again.
As if on cue, Luke, Bobby and Reggie burst back through the door. Luke and Reggie were celebrating while Bobby seemed a little less enthusiastic.
“Dun-geon slay-er!” Reggie proclaimed in a mock deep voice. “Too bad we can’t stay longer and go for that tournament today; I would have whooped everyone.”
They all sat and immediately gulped down their waters. Bobby remained quiet.
“How was the arcade?” Alex asked.
“It was sweet,” Luke reported. “Bobby’s mad because Reggie mopped the floor with him.”
“The joystick wasn’t working right, it wasn’t a fair outcome,” Bobby defended.
“Oooohhh,” Reggie made a silly face and wiggled his fingers. “Bobby only loses when the game doesn’t work, ooohhh!”
Alex shook his head and laughed mildly. He only noticed then that his stomach had stopped bothering him completely. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d been talking with Willie. He finished his own water, and was happy not to feel anything as it went down. The origami frog was still on the table.
“Hey, Alex,” Reggie said, picking it up. “Did you make this?”
“Oh, no, Willie did,” he told him.
“Who’s Willie?” Luke asked.
Speak of the devil - the kitchen door opened and Willie came out carrying their plates.
“Alright, we got pancakes, pancakes, more pancakes,” he said, placing them where they belonged. He glanced at Alex quickly, but it was too quick to read. “Who had the eggs and sausage?”
“That was me,” Bobby said, raising his hand.
“Okay,” Willie passed it over to him. “And toast and eggs with a banana.” He smiled as he set it down before Alex. “And it looks like you all need more water, I’ll be right back!” He was gone too quickly again.
The change in his mood unsettled Alex, but maybe it was because Willie was working. As he saw Willie returning with the water pitcher he had an idea.
“Hey Luke,” he said. Luke turned to him expectantly as Willie silently poured water in their glasses.
“Where are we playing again?”
Luke looked confused. Willie was listening intently.
“The Pearl, why? How could you forget?”
“And what time do we play?”
“Eight o’ clock. You sure you’re feeling better?”
“Yeah. I was… I was just testing you, cuz sometimes you don’t remember.”
Luke looked around the table defensively.
Reggie shrugged. “He’s right. But you remembered this time!”
Alex felt bad about starting Luke in an argument as he listened to them continue, but he knew it would blow over quickly. He caught Willie looking back at him and nodding as he walked away. As he returned to his food, Bobby smirked at him and shook his head. Heat rose in his cheeks and he focused on his toast.
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silence-burns · 4 years ago
Text
Please Hate Me //part 52
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?
Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut
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"We fucked up."
"No, we didn't."
"We had Peter. Now we don't have Peter."
Loki's eyes were completely dark from a spell letting him see through Barbara's, but still he waved toward the completely-not-suspicious building complex in front of you. "But we found him again. That surely counts toward something, right?"
"We lost the alien pin too."
"Which we also found, if memory serves," Loki shrugged, as if the search hadn't taken the two of you the better part of an evening. Who knew searching through half of New York and visiting places it might've been dropped could be so time-consuming?
The weather was pleasant, the air growing warmer as the seasons continued to change. It was one of those days where everything felt brighter, despite how disappointing the reality might be.
"I'm still voting for arson," Loki said, assessing the tall fence surrounding the area. An area which crawled with people trying their hardest not to look like agents of some super-secret government facility, and failing rather miserably.
"You might not have noticed, but buildings nowadays have systems preventing fire from spreading."
"Do these systems work against magic fire too?"
"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like I spit magic fire on a whim?"
"You did last week," Loki muttered. The memory was still fresh.
"Wow, so now I'm the bad guy, and not the sneaky little bastard that ate all the cupcakes I left for-"
Barbara came back, flying on quiet, if a little filthy and decomposed, wings. Loki blinked twice, shedding the spell connecting him to the bird. As much as he didn't mind the heights, Loki had to admit he wasn't a fan of the sharp turns and rather random drops Barbara's flying pattern involved.
Loki pointed to one of the buildings further inside the complex. The red, evening sun hit the countless windows with blinding intensity. "The bird thinks the boy might be there."
You looked at the long stretch of road leading to the complex, like a carpet laid out specifically for you, but the crowds of agents working in the area leading to it made you cringe.
"I still vote arson."
"Why don't we just walk in, though? I mean, it was SHIELD themselves that contacted us, right? It should be okay to just… pay them a visit without sneaking around like… well, like villains. No offense."
Loki frowned. He didn't look convinced. "I like sneaking around, though. It keeps me away from trouble."
"If that’s true, how did you get banned from the Moon twice?"
"Touché. Lead the way then, love."
The way took you down the asphalt road, busy with cars rushing both ways. Despite their past issues, Loki couldn't help feeling a little bad for the agents. For all the grandeur and importance they always described their life to hold, Loki's imagination kept on showing him pictures of ants in their little nests, crawling in their endless, pointless patterns.
The ants seemed to fall into a state of shock rather abruptly after laying their eyes on the two visitors to their nest. Some of them just stood there, looking after the figures marching right to the gates, while others ran in a seemingly random direction.
"That worked out better than I thought," Loki admitted when all the space around you cleared.
Barbara perched on top of the gates, screaming on top of her rotten lungs. The security guards looked at one another and then at the approaching god. Their hands went to their guns. Loki took that as a compliment.
"I know this might surprise you," Loki said, "but we are here to talk. Fetch us your Agent Cauldron, and be quick about it."
"Coulson," you whispered.
"Whatever."
*
"No matter how many times you ask me, the answer will stay the same - I don't know," Peter groaned.
His back hurt from sitting on the same, incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for hours, and the lights of the small and a little outdated office were starting to make his head throb with an upcoming headache. Or maybe the reason behind it were the endless questions to which he wished he know the answer.
Agent Coulson looked at the photos on the desk between him and the boy. These were nice pictures. If he were more sentimental, he might've put them on a fridge or maybe to the clipboard on the wall to his left. They were definitely worth taking a look at least once a day - it wasn't often one had a chance to look at a god and an ex-assassin, completely drunk, being led by a teenage boy on a spider-thread.
Peter glanced down at them too, and scowled.
"Yeah, well, we've met and hung out together, but I don't know where they are now. Sir, if I knew, do you really think I'd willingly stay behind?"
The agent didn't answer. He moved very little, in fact. Peter was unsure whether it was a part of some special, super-secret interrogation technique, but it was working. To make things even worse, the metal chair he had been given was making sitting still a nightmare. 
"That's a fair point, Peter," Coulson nodded, "but do you think I would be pressing you so much if two of the most dangerous people on this planet weren't currently on the run with an alien artifact of unknown origin that might've been recently used to damage our Moon?"
That was a fair point too, Peter had to admit. He might've even grown a little worried after hearing such news, if only it all didn't sound so exciting.
"So you DO know what happened to it, right?" the boy leaned forward, with eyes shining with excitement. 
Agent Coulson sighed.
It was a small,  almost invisible display of all the emotions boiling inside of him that he'd never show. He knew better, and had far too many years of experience to allow that. Still, the situation was beginning to wear on him, especially if he spared a thought or two to consider what the two people that should absolutely never go off radar, could be up to at this very moment. 
Last time Loki visited Earth, he led an alien invasion. Last time Coulson met you before you hesitantly joined forces with the Avengers, you'd already put two bullets in Tony Stark and were on the way to making it three.
Coulson allowed himself a moment to thank his hair for already thinning out or he'd be losing it in a handfuls. 
And the worst part was, he actually believed the boy.
He had clearly helped with sneaking you through half the city and into his apartment, but there was no evidence of him helping you out too. Wherever Loki and you were, Coulson was sure he'd hear about it soon enough. He might even let the boy go, and monitor him long enough to see if you'd show up. 
The decision wasn't an easy one, but the agent was left with very limited choices. After all, how likely was it that the two of you would just show up?
The phone vibrated on the desk in front of agent Coulson. He picked it up.
He blinked. And simply said, "Yes."
Peter did not like the absent look on the agent's face. He'd seen far too many movies not to recognize the moment the power shifted in the room. Just in time for something bad to happen. It wouldn't be a problem if it stayed on the screen - Ned and him would freeze with the popcorn halfway to their mouths in anticipation of what was to come. But here, in reality, far from the safe spot on a couch, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to know what was about to happen next.
Unfortunately, whatever powers weaved through the lives of people, deciding their fate and luck, rarely listened to young boys in their judgement. In fact, they listened to old agents even less, but that was something Peter was unlikely to ever find out.
Peter twisted on the chair biting into his backside, and looked back to the thick, metal door. He hadn't realized it when he had been brought inside, but the door looked like it could take a few shots from a gun and remain unscathed. 
Peter was not sure what to do with that information.
The door in question decided to finally open and reveal the reason for the sudden tension. It didn't even creak, so the god walked in in complete silence. You followed him, not as quiet, but just as unexpected.
Your face lit up when you noticed the boy. "There you are!" 
Peter looked at the agent. The agent looked at Peter.
"I know you're probably not going to believe me, sir, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."
The agent had no doubt that the boy was the least likely person to ever manipulate the god of trickery and lies, or the almost-ex-assasin into anything, but he didn't say a word. He only raised an eyebrow and asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?", as if there was anything pleasant to be found in the room. But lying was not solely a domain of gods, as all the agents in the world would probably agree. 
And Coulson was a very good agent.
"We recently lost a boy, but it looks like he's just been found. Thank you for taking care of him."
"It was a pleasure," the agent smiled. "Although I can't help but worry if you have lost the pin too?"
"We wouldn't dare," Loki lied smoothly with an even more charming smile.
The god of trickery waved his hand and produced a pin seemingly out of thin air. Whether it was only a clever trick or an actual spell was something agent Coulson would never know, but for once he didn't mind. The pin felt heavy and looked just as the files described, but whether it was the real thing would only be revealed once a detailed analysis was completed. 
Still, it somehow looked like the deal was fulfilled. Coulson would be lying if he said he'd placed a bet on that outcome.
Peter sprung out of the chair the moment you waved at him to go. The agents and armed officers waiting behind Loki and you on the corridor shifted with unease, their fingers laying on triggers. A small crowd eyed every move made in Coulson's office, which was to be expected - it was not every day a facility such as this one was visited by a god.
Especially one with a rather problematic history of attempted world domination.
"If we may, we'll take our leave now." Loki bowed stiffly.
"And what about the 'favor' you insisted on as payment?"
Something cold and ancient flashed in the god's eyes. "All in due time."
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aita-catventures · 5 months ago
Note
Hi it's me. I am so sorry if people were upset by "born wrong" because I'm not a native English speaker and I didn't know that'd sound actually mean or something in English. It's kinda weird and mean how you all jumped to that conclusion just because I was really upset though. That's not nice and I'm not inviting a pity party over because it's really a hugely bad accusation to make. I'm not ableist, what the hell? The other post claiming this ask needed a tw for ableism is also by a pretty dumb person, sorry not sorry! I shouldn't be expected to be perfect at the English language, but I didn't mean to upset/offend anyone so I'm sorry for that.
Honestly, I sent this ask a week ago, and despite all this, even though I've been miserable for the past week, I still love my cousin. Because, uh, he's my fucking cousin and I adore him and he's just a kid? Sure I freaked out but my emotions were valid, my ACTIONS weren't and that's why I sent this aita to begin with. I honestly voted yta for MYSELF for this just of how miserable it made me to reread my own ask. Age doesn't excuse assholery, EVER, but I'm still only 15 and some of the wild conclusions you guys jumped to was insane and ridiculous and HURTFUL. But whatever.
I also have moderate adhd, if it matters any, and I'm not dehumanising anyone! I typed something in a moment of anger and grief ("born wrong" isn't a nice thing to say, it sounded better in my mother tongue) and it's weird how everyone fixated over just that when I tried to respect my cousin for his disorder throughout the ask, even if I see that I've sorta failed at that.
Additional info because I noticed some repetitive questions:
I was left alone with him to begin with because my mom took a quick shopping trip, shops and apartments are very tightly packed together in our city. I've babysat for him before and this was never an issue because I've learnt how to handle him. Times are really tough where we are, I won't disclose any more, but my family has appreciated me helping them with this thus far. My family's not ableist either! I didn't "learn this language" from people around me or the internet, you guys need to stop EXPECTING that everyone's fluent in English. It's uncomfortable.
"kids can't be trusted around animals to begin with" "why did you leave him alone with that cat "why didn't you take your cat to the bathroom with you" okay like I stated, Velvet was a very very lazy baby boy. He slept like ALL the time and didn't even move besides eating or going to his litter box. Also, my cousin had pretty much ignored or just randomly hugged Velvet up to that point. Stop saying weird or horrifying things like "kill him" in the notes! What is wrong with you?!?!?!? He DIDN'T KNOW. He COULDN'T have known, okay? We need to accept that some kids or people are simply like this. There are so many disorders that can have extreme and/or hurtful outcomes. It doesn't mean we should be ableist or discriminatory, it means we need to be aware that this is a problem, regardless.
We're 100% positive he threw him and the cat didn't fall because, other than the fact that Velvet was a scaredy-cat (pun not intended), we checked the cameras in our living room. We have cameras by the windows because thieves are a huge problem here, even at several stories high.
Thank you to the nicer people in the notes because it made me relieved to know that there are better options for this situation. I will talk politely to my mom (who shortened my grounding from 5 days to 3 out of sympathy) and my aunt and her husband about this. And no thank you to people telling me to "better myself" on the ableism front because they sound like people who will take a tiny phrase that someone says in a moment of very heated pain and choose to define that as their whole personality without taking into consideration anything else. Smh. Also since this site was very helpful, thank you mods.
AITA for banning a child from my house?
It's not my child, btw- it's my cousin, an 8 y/o autistic boy. I am 15 and it's technically not my house.
For context, my cousin has EXTREMELY severe autism, to the point where he quite literally cannot form any connections with people and does not sit down at all. He is always running around, yelling in garbled speech, and doesn't understand words, sentences, or commands. He only responds to his name when his mother calls it. He isn't intelligent mentally, either. I do love him a lot in spite of how he has never paid attention to me or treats both me and everyone else around him as though they don't exist.
I have (had?) a cat. I have raised this cat for 3 years and I got this little furball when he was only 2 weeks old. I gave him milk and cared for him so, so much. He was a Persian-British mix and was, frankly, pretty dumb and sleepy all the time. Like a little doll.
My cousin also, apparently, decided that my cat, Velvet, was doll-like, because he grabbed Velvet and refused to let the cat go. I was in the bathroom at the time and only heard the cat's mewing. Nobody else was home. My cousin thought it would be nice to throw Velvet out of the window. Our 4th-story window. Velvet was a spoilt little thing and had never really lived outside of a house, and consequently, died. My cousin? Didn't care. Just went away from the open window and went back to running around the house.
I came out only a few seconds later and was very confused as to just WHERE was the previously mewing cat, and obviously I couldn't just ask my cousin, since he can't talk and wouldn't be able to think of it either. My mom found the fucking CORPSE when she came back home. I was horrified and, while I don't think this was the proper thing to do to a little boy who has absolutely ZERO awareness of his surroundings, I proceeded to absolutely scream my head off at my cousin while grabbing his arm, which resulted in an absolute meltdown from him and my aunt (who had also just arrived) having to physically pry me off him as I was crying. I don't think I can be really blamed for being upset over my cousin KILLING my BELOVED PET just because he was born wrong. I also sort of yelled at my aunt to never come here or bring her son here ever again. My mother has severely chastised me for that and had ME grounded. What the fuck. Mental illnesses aren't all sunshine and rainbows, y'all. Ugh. I feel like I AM the asshole, but honestly. Consider the circumstances. I hate it here and I miss my fucking cat.
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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years ago
Text
Gilded Cage - Part 5
I really need to get better at writing the choices, as once again a single choice got every vote. I suppose we all want the same thing for our poor whumpee ^^. Based on the votes, Villain will trust Sidekick.
Thanks to everyone so much for reading, once again!
CW// Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, (fantasy) steroids, pills, syringes, medical talk, extensive discussion of fire, not caring if one lives or dies, public events, restraints, comparing oneself to a doll/dog, endangerment of the public
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Villain felt their mouth grow horribly dry as they stared at the offered hand.
It would have been terribly simple to raise their hand. To accept. To go along. That warmth in their veins, it was begging them to do so.
But... It wasn’t what the Heroes would want.
They’d spent so long placidly following their will like a dog. Yet no matter how long their leash became, the very idea of going against the Heroes’ will felt utterly alien.
They weren’t stupid. This was a life or death decision, certainly. The question being, which choice would lead to which outcome. To that, they did not know the answer.
But it had been so long since they had said no, they were unsure if their lips could still produce the word.
And, somewhere, in a part of them long since beaten into submission, they knew they wanted to fight back. Even if they were going to die, they didn’t want to go quietly. It was a petty move, a pathetic death throe, but it did not matter.
Villain shook Sidekick’s hand. Yet, at the end of the gesture, they did not release their grip. Their gaze lifted, meeting that of their visitor.
“I trust you. But... But I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
Villain flinched.
“Uh, sorry. It means go ahead.”
“O-ok. I just wanted to know... who hurt me?” Their lips shook even as they spoke.
Sidekick frowned, hesitating a moment. Villain felt their palm grow clammy.
“I don’t know.” They finally shook their head. “We don’t know who hurt you.”
“It wasn’t Journalist?”
“I don’t... I don’t have any way to know that for sure.”
“Okay.”
“We can try to find that out but, there’s bigger problems, right now. We don’t have a lot of time. Do you remember the signal? What you need to look for?”
“When the sun disappears.”
“Exactly. Before you go on stage, also, um, take these.”
Sidekick moved their arm so quickly that Villain nearly startled. They dug in their pocket for a moment, removing a tiny plastic box, smaller than a thumbnail. They held it forth, offering it to Villain, who took it. It was awfully difficult to hold in trembling fingers.
“Can I open it?”
“Mhm.”
They did so, though it took considerable effort. Contained within were two small pills, each circular and vaguely peach in color.
“Pills.”
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, okay? They’re going to help.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. They’ll help.”
“Okay.”
“I need to get going now, okay? I am really not supposed to be in here in the first place. Don’t tell anyone I was here. This conversation didn’t happen, got it?”
“Got it.”
Sidekick nodded in approval, getting up from the bed as Villain tucked the pillbox below their pillow. The former reached the door, grasping the knob, before frowning again and turning back to the bed.
“Villain?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you don’t like Hero. And I know they’ve done some... not great things. To you and to others. But they’re not a bad person. They just want to do what’s best for everyone. I promise that they’re not as bad as you think.”
The next words were quiet, muttered so lowly that they could have been mistaken as a breath. But Villain heard them. They know they did, as they shivered upon hearing them.
“At least, I don’t want them to be.”
Sidekick shook their head, raising it and their voice in equal turn.
“So, just, please try not to hurt them. Please?”
“I- I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Okay.” Their shoulders slumped. “Don’t try to contact me. Everything will be okay.”
With that, the door opened and closed, and again, Villain was alone.
In the absence of pain, doubt welled in, filling the pit in their stomach where a personality once resided.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 
The syringe did not hurt going in.
That was the most worrying part about it. It wasn’t that Villain was unused to the presence of needles-- every other week, they saw the in-house physicians at the base. Ensuring that they were strong enough. It was excessive, certainly, but Hero did not allow for surprises, especially not in any form that would show on-camera.
Thus, they had long since learned to stop their instinctive flinching away from the sharp prick. It wasn’t that. They felt the prick, yes, but it did not hurt. It was simply an emotionless report. Something had breached their flesh-- there was nothing more to it than that.
Maybe that was the whole point of the thing, they supposed.
Doctor, who seemed to have unofficially taken up the case, turned away to fuss over tools on a countertop. There was an awfully sorrowful air about them. They didn’t want to meet Villain’s eyes.
“How have you been feeling?” They muttered, seemingly paying only a cursory amount of attention.
“Fine.”
“Any pain?”
“No.”
“Numbness?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“That’s good.”
The physician turned, placing the buds of a stethoscope in their ears.
“Can you breathe?”
“I hope so.”
“Don’t joke.”
They kneeled down, in front of the uncomfortable plastic chair on which Villain was seated. The chill of the stethoscope’s bell could be felt even through their clothes; a soothing cold against an overwhelming warmth.
Villain hated the silence. The observations, the readings, all of it. People looking at them, examining every inch of them, yet not finding it important to tell them so much as what they were looking for.
They wondered, for a single humorous moment, in the Heroes had assigned a veterinarian to take care of them. One final joke.
Doctor stood back to their full height, removing the buds from their ears. Their lips pursed into a fine line.
“You’re terribly lucky, you know.”
“I know.”
“Your breathing sounds okay. It’s a miracle, by all accounts.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah...”
Villain placed their hands upon their knees, letting themself slump forward in the rigid seat. They cast their gaze downwards.
The warmth had been fading over the past few hours, if only slightly, but now, it had been refreshed to its full strength. Just another thing to fill in the spaces left behind by all the things they had lost. They hated the thought, and though it made them bite their tongue, they could not help but sometimes feel that the only things they had left were their name and their body. Both things that could so easily be taken.
“Doctor?”
Again, the physician had turned, determined not to gaze upon their patient.
“Yes?”
“Who hurt me?”
“That’s a very vague question.”
“Who shattered all my ribs? Who broke my leg? Who-”
“Okay. I get your point.”
“Do you know?”
“I-” Doctor bit their lip. “Yes.”
“Please. I want to know.”
“That’s classified. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”
“I can’t even know who’s killing me?”
An exasperated sigh, followed by the clicking of metal as Doctor put down their instruments, one by one. They turned, countenance downcast in despair. Villain sat up, leaning back, ready for all the world to be screamed at and shook. But the only noise was that of Doctor’s quiet tone:
“Hold out your hand, please.”
Villain did so. Doctor gripped it, interlacing their fingers in a way that sent a dulled shiver along their spine. It was a firm grasp, but not in a hostile sense.
“Warm it now, please.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Your hand. Make it warm.”
For a moment, they were struck by the absurdity of the request. No one could simply will a body part to heat or cool. When they realized that that assumption was wrong, they felt suddenly nauseous.
Their powers. They still had them, somewhere. Buried and long forgotten. A warmth not produced by syringes and injections, but by will itself.
“I don’t- I don’t have permission to do that. My powers are not to be used. I don’t even know if I can-”
“I have all the permissions. All the papers and whatever, I have authorization. It’s for medical reasons. For your health.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.”
Villain nodded hesitantly.
Digging for their powers felt like searching for the name of a childhood friend. A fact once comically simple rendered obscure. It was not where they had left it, not in the place that had once housed a fiery personality and sharp tongue. Instead, they found it buried, among memories and tears and pains long repressed. Among the images of what their face had once looked like, neck unmarred.
From the depths, they retrieved them. The flame struggled to find itself, at first. Flickering and sputtering. But, at last, it steadied itself, and its warmth crept outwards. Flowing into Villain’s palm, to the ends of their fingers.
Though slight, Doctor smiled.
“You make fire. That was all you were, once. Before they knew your name. The pyrokinetic. The arsonist. But you have not been that for a long time. And you are afraid of becoming it, ever again.
You are afraid of destruction. Of burning the foundations of the world until its roof collapses upon you. I know you are. Do not forget that I know you as well as they do.
Flame, it requires three things to be produced. Fuel, heat, and oxygen. You only supply the heat. Do you truly think warmth to be evil? Is goodness epitomized by living in frigid cold?”
It took Villain a moment to realize that they were being asked a question. They blinked, replying:
“I- No. It isn’t.”
“So, if warmth is not evil, then why are you?”
“I make fire-”
“You make warmth. Heat. The mother of all life.”
The grip on Villain’s hand grew stronger, firmer.
“I do not think that you are evil. Even if my opinion means nothing, I thought that you deserved to understand that. Do you understand?”
“I don’t know.”
“You will, I think. When it’s time.”
With that, whatever smile Doctor had managed to produce fell back to its frown. They turned, again.
“Doctor?”
“Yes, Villain?”
They hesitated a moment, their next words catching on the scales of their desert-dry tongue.
“Am I going to die?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I... I don’t know. Hero hasn’t told me yet.”
Doctor stiffened, but did not say anything. For a few moments, they sat once more in silence as the doctor shifted among their equipment. It was Villain who at last spoke up, tone quieter than the buzzing machines around.
“What was the reason, for holding my hand? What were you checking for?”
A chuckle.
“Nothing at all, Villain. Nothing at all.”
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If it was possible, Villain somehow managed to feel lonelier the three days after the incident than usual.
Out of all the things they had gotten used to, they wished desperately that the loneliness was one of them. It was a horrible, overwhelming thing. The only pain that still truly hurt.
Their life was simple, and by many accounts, comfortable. Certainly, the room in which they spent their life was comfortable. Plush blankets and soft mattresses, ivory bookshelves and televisions. Their choice of video entertainment was practically limitless, and their well-organized collection of books ranged from Stephen King to Jane Austin and back again.
It was nice. Comfortable.
Every day, they would wake up, shower, get dressed, and... sit. Just sit. Staring at the television sometimes. Staring at a book at others. But always, they sat. Waiting.
They had long since stopped watching much in the way of TV. Watching the conversations, the love stories, the friendships... it all made them feel sick to their stomach.
At some point, they would be called to lunch. Their time to eat was limited, after which they would be returned to their room until dinner, when the same procedure was repeated. Such a rhythm was only accented by their press appearances, as well as frequent visits to doctors and hair stylists. Maintaining their appearance, or updating it if the current trends so desired.
They were lonely. Horribly, painfully lonely. They couldn’t remember the last time they had talked to a human being. A real one. Or, at least, someone who saw them as a human being, rather than a prop or a canvas. Even their interactions outside of their cage were stilted. Impersonal.
Impersonal, for as far as anyone was anymore concerned, they were no longer a person.
Those three days, however, had somehow managed to be worse. They felt with painful presence that they were no longer being contained, but hidden. Intentionally kept from view.
Their meals were eaten in their cell, now, and their media appearance the day after the attack had been short and nerve-wracking.
Now, on the fourth day, even being dragged from their room and taken to a car felt like a cause for celebration. The guards did not speak to them as much as they spoke orders, but that was okay. It was still speech, still words. That was enough.
The car was the usual one that they were transported in, shoved into the back seat and blocked from the outside by a wall of tinted windows.
At one point in time, in a time that now felt to be ancient history, there had been more security to the vehicle. A system of chains, on their wrists and ankles, securing them firmly to the seat. Once they were out of the base, the Heroes seemed to consider them more dangerous.
Of course, at that point, they were well aware that melting metal was well within Villain’s capabilities.
The metallic substance that Hero created, however, was an exception to that rule. They were unaware if the material had ever been given a name. It was a simple thing, appearing from air itself and being molded into any shape Hero so desired. That shape, from then after, could only be altered by its creator.
It was the only reason they had not simply melted off their collar and fled into the night. The device could not be removed except by those brutish hands.
The same material was used in those shackles that secured them to the seat. They were still there, hanging, useless. Their physical purpose was now secured by a psychological one.
Villain buckled themself in.
The driver was a nobody, one of the many employees that the Heroes maintained on their payroll. Villain wished nothing more than to lean back in their seat, to relax. But they knew that that wasn’t going to happen.
As soon as they had heard the guards’ footsteps outside their door, they had shoved Sidekick’s pillbox into the very bottom of their pocket. Now, they felt it digging into their leg. A tiny, horrible reminder.
Today, they could not relax.
They had spent so long pondering. They were under no obligation to go along with Sidekick’s plan. They had given their word, yes, but their words meant nothing. Their voice was a vector for scripts, and their agreement had not been scripted.
It would be so simple. To get up on stage, perform their tricks, and get off. Keep on the straight and narrow path that they walked so religiously.
In the pit of their stomach, it was what they wanted to do. But the very thought of going back to that cell, of living like a good, well trained mutt, made them feel even sicker than the thought of punishment.
The drive to the event center was not a long one, though it was made considerably more difficult by the throngs of vehicles belonging to both civilians and the press, filling the streets with the smell of gasoline. Originally, the conference had been meant to take place in a local auditorium, but overwhelming demand had switched the venue to a full-on stadium.
Instead of moving to the front parking lot, when the car made it to the building, it instead maneuvered around a small, blocked-off side street, to a lot where only a few vehicles were parked, all marked with the logo of the Organization of Heroes.
Villain’s door was not locked, and they opened it on their own, moving unsupervised and unfettered to the performers’ entrance. The Heroes got out of their own vehicles in turn, moving at their own paces towards the entrance. Watching them, but not exactly closely.
Inside the back entrance was a throng of activity. Cameramen and organizers and makeup artists. A few of the latter began drifting towards Villain, but they did not think that they could stand that overwhelming touch. Not today.
Behind them, the Heroes entered, though they did not speak. They would issue their orders when they were needed.
The minuscule pillbox in their pocket made its presence known by shifting against their leg, sending a dulled shiver through Villain’s spine. Half to escape the approaching artists and half to comfort their own nerves, they quickly ducked into the nearest bathroom.
The cool air and the sound of their feet on tile at least did something to help the warm numbness flooding their fingertips.
Again, Villain could not stop themself from looking in the mirror.
They recognized their face even less. The makeup work to restore their appearance had been extensive, and even now, they felt almost to be staring at a doll.
That’s what they were, wasn’t it?
They wanted to scream.
Instead, they turned on the water, as cold as they could make it, running their hands under the faucet. The second the liquid struck their skin, it fizzled and turned to steam, quickly obscuring the image in the mirror.
Villain breathed as deeply as they could with numb lungs. They willed the heat to retreat from their palms, for the flame to calm itself, but the steam only billowed hotter.
A knock sounded on the door. The steam turned to flame.
“Villain?” A voice called. One of the Heroes. “Are you in there?”
“I’ll be out in a second.” They replied, moving quickly to flush the toilet before returning to the sink. That seemed to satisfy the hero enough, their footsteps heading away.
Their face could no longer be seen in the mirror on account of the fog.
Villain felt their own shaky hand move to their pocket, removing the pillbox and prying it open. Those little round things stared back at them.
They had a choice to make, and for the first time, they made it for themself.
The pills tasted like nothing, dryly sliding down their throat.
Starting from their chest and flooding outwards, they felt the warmth of numbness transform into something hotter, something sour that tore at the edges of their veins. They moved to the toilet, attempting to flush the pillbox, but found that the plastic had already melted in their hand. They washed it down the sink drain, even as the handles warped beneath their fingers.
Villain trembled.
They hadn’t used power enhancers before, had never had access, but the feeling...
Even without looking in the mirror, they knew they were smiling.
It felt like being a villain again.
The doorknob flinched away from them as they turned it, heading back out into the fray. They hardly look at the Heroes who whisked them away, hurriedly instructing them as they hurried towards the stage.
“Just let Hero do the talking.”
“We don’t need your input, this time.”
“Just smile.”
With that, they opened the backstage entrance, and headed up. The stage was relatively makeshift, the kind used when bands performed in the stadium. Despite its lack of permanent nature, the stage lights were sweltering, their heat overwhelming as soon as the door was opened.
Villain loved it.
Wait- What were they thinking?
As the Heroes moved onto the stage, an overwhelming cheer erupted from all sides. When Villain did the same, they were met with concerned muttering.
They gave the widest smile they could.
The stage was open to the air, the fresh air making them feel as though they could finally breathe. They moved to be at Hero’s side, beside a podium.
Of course they were nervous. Performing always made them nervous. Perhaps it wasn’t stage fright, but they always remained terrified that they would make a mistake.
It helped, somewhat, that the bright sun overhead prevented them from seeing the stadium seats that surrounded them. The glare was simply that strong.
The sound of microphones turning on pierced Villain’s ears as they stood at Hero’s side and smiled.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here today.” Hero’s voice was so charming that Villain almost thought, for a moment, that they were kind. “We are so grateful for your concern regarding recent events. I would like to begin by pointing out that, as you can see, Villain is just fine.”
They laid a hand upon their shoulder.
“We are well aware of the rumors of their death. They are completely unfounded. Their recovery is advancing quickly. But that does not mean that they were not harmed, and that does not mean that a criminal is not on the loose.”
A grumbling, groaning noise filled the air-- the breathing of an ancient beast. It took Villain a moment to realize that the noise was coming from above, though looking upwards made them flinch against the sunlight.
The stadium roof, with horrible slowness, ground inwards.
Hero looked up, smile still well on their face. With a joking tone, they stated:
“Looks like we’re expecting some rain. No worries, folks.”
No worries.
Villain felt their weak heart skip a beat in their chest.
They were waiting for the sun to disappear. The throbbing of blood in their veins quickened.
Still with agonizing slowness, the roof, bit by bit, cut out the sunlight-- and more importantly, its glare.
Row by row, person by person, Villain watched as the stadium seats were revealed, along with their occupants. Some were reporters, newspeople, but the majority were civilians. Dressed in casual clothes. Young and old, smiling and frowning, and all innocent.
The roof got louder as it reached its half point.
Heat pumped in their veins with such a force that they worried it would break through their flesh.
They understood, now, what Sidekick wanted. They had asked for chaos, and had given Villain these pills...
They wanted a scene, certainly, but more than that, they wanted a show.
Sidekick wanted Villain to destroy this place. To light the stadium ablaze. They were sure of it.
The roof continued to close, only a hint of sunlight peeking through.
More people. Almost every seat was filled.
Villain felt heat gather in their fingertips.
They swallowed.
Were they a hero, or a villain?
What was the real difference?
The roof closed, and the sun disappeared.
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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!
There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!
I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes. This time, I do not have any questions to go along with the options (mostly just cause I couldn’t think of any oops,) but feel free to add any ideas you would like! The choices and questions for this part are as follows:
A) You are a villain, go through with the plan and burn the stadium B) You are a hero, continue the press conference as normal
@whumpilicious has recommended a third option for this choice:
C) You are an antihero, attack Hero specifically
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^
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dr-hidden-paradise · 2 years ago
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Rules
“I always have to do this things don’t I? I mean I get that they chose me…. But why? Favor is so hard to keep track of these days… and no one told me that the student event flag was already marked true or whatever until now… It just means I have to do these things. For me, for them. I can do this, okay.”
“Um hi, I’m uh…. Vespar, call me whatever… I don’t care. Anyway the vice-principal wanted me to tell you guys the rules of the killing game…. First things first”
During nighttime, you must stay in the dorms, but you do not need to stay in your own dorm, and staying in the lounge, the study, or on the stairs is permitted
Please do not attack the staff, this isn’t really much of a rule, but most will fight back on instinct, and that is not a good outcome for you.
If you desire to kill, inform one of the staff privately, via the inbox or dm. Once you have the go ahead, kill as you may.
Once a student successfully kills, and the body is found by three or more people, an announcement will be given out by the vice principal.
After the announcement is made, the students will be permitted to investigate the body and the surroundings of the room. After a while, a class trial will begin, you need to come to these too.
If the killer is found out during the trial and successfully voted by a majority, they will be executed and those not deceased may continue on with the game!
If the killer is not found out or is not voted by a majority, everyone else forced into this game will be executed instead.
Additional rules may be added as needed.
“Yeah… that’s about it for now…. I’m sorry, I’m just gonna go for now… enjoy killing eachother I guess.”
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worstloki · 4 years ago
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Part 3
Fury: I cannot believe the Avengers No. 1 unattainable criminal right now is a seventeen-year-old twink Clint: I can’t believe you’re calling Loki a twink Tony: I can’t believe he's been the legal godparent of kids his own age for months and I didn't realise Steve: You didn’t get him removed? I thought you made Rhodey their legal godparents instead?? Tony: nah I removed Thor Natasha: ?? why would anyone do that ?? Fury, having a breakdown: we nearly lost New York and the entire world to a 16-year-old twink with daddy issues Clint: yoU just did it aGAIN- Tony, the only actual Avenger who knows Loki isn’t actually evil™: heY! Daddy issues are a serious thing! Don’t make fun of the guy for having a crisis and finding out his life was a lie and he’d faced over a millennium of abusive environment for nothing!  Avengers: are you… defending Loki… the megalomaniac WAR CRIMINAL who turned every SHIELD facility into ice cream earlier today…? Tony, hands up in surrender: I’m saying maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to judge the guy. I wouldn't be able to guess what but maybe he had an ulterior reason for the New York fiasco? His normal stuff is usually harmless.  Avengers: ... Tony: What? It could’ve been much worse. Strange, rolling his eyes: Yes, at least it wasn’t Stark Raving Hazelnuts Loki, who has been standing at the back listening to the entire conversation: That flavour is way too chalky to suit SHIELD anyways [everyone turns to Loki with their weapons ready, except Tony of course] Loki, raising his hands in surrender: what? A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge is way better, and its green, and for some reason they didn’t have a Loki flavour so that was the next best option-
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Loki: hey Morgan what would you say if i offered you an officially evil part-time job with decent pay and extremely good evil workplace benefits? Morgan: do you offer evil dental? Loki: of course?? we also have A-Grade coffee 24/7 because top class extremely good evil deserves only the best Morgan: Excellent! I look forward to working with your evil team and being a part of your nefarious schemes and plots in future Loki: Thank you. Tomorrow we replace all Tony's vehicles with incredibly realistic wax models. Morgan: ...including the jets? Loki, scoffing: what kind of amateur villains would we be if we left his jets, boats, bikes and single vintage helicopter untouched Tony: its 4am can you maybe not have this conversation right next to me in my own workshop?!
---
Tony: I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WOULD REPLACE THEM WITH WAX MODELS Morgan: What kind of low-grade predictable villainous evil doers would we be if we did what we said we would Tony: oh $#!^ now you're speaking like him too Loki, cutting his shoulder to reveal cake: Just so you know, it wasn’t JUST the vehicles ;)
---
Peter: *following loki around with a notepad* Loki: Terribly sorry if you mind but he's MY intern now. Tony: You don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you’re doing, do you? Loki: I don’t think anything I’ve ever done is wrong Peter:  *avidly taking notes and nodding along*
---
T’challa: I cant believe you filed an application for ‘time off’ Shuri: I NEED at least 3 hours a week reserved specifically for training if I want to keep my part-time job T’challa: you don’t NEED a job! You make up 90% of Wakanda’s research and development departments! Your technology work IS a job! Shuri: yeah well my ACTUAL job is fun and has proper work benefits and I simply must empty the time blocks I specified for it! You wouldn’t stop me from meeting with Peter and Morgan would you? They ARE, legally and spiritually speaking, my siblings, brother :) T’challa: what job could you have that would need you reminding me that a mischief deity adopted you before telling me what the job actually is Shuri: The official position is called Secretary of Evil but that’s only for the probationary 2 week period and I’m allowed to request a name change if I think of anything better T’challa: T’challa: you are working as a SECRETARY?! Shuri: The job pays well, Brother, T'challa:  T'challa: mother will be so disappointed
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Scott: I can’t believe you did that Maggie: I didn’t know he was a supervillain! OBVIOUSLY! Scott: how would you noT KNOW! He wears nothing buT LEATHER and BELTS and GREEN BOOTS AND- Maggie: I needed someone to watch her and she showed up in pink sweatpants and a black tank top and was charging a decent rate Scott: Scott: are you sure their name was loki
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Clint: you told me it was a ‘family gathering’! Tony: yeah, it is, and the avengers are family Clint, pointing at Loki: so what’s the twink doing here and why are MY kids along with every other person here who is under drinking age clinging to him like a frickin’ koala bear Tony: morgan wanted to get her ‘the floor is lava’ badge and loki was the only one immune to the lava so they jumped him - and he enjoyed walking around covered in them way more than he should have -  and also loki is legally peter and morgan and harley and shuri’s godparent so he’s allowed to be here on more of a basis than anyone else here at this point Clint: There was LAVA near MY KIDS?! Tony: no of course not – it was FAKE lava that just looked and functioned like real lava Clint: im taking them all home Tony: good luck convincing them not to want another playdate Clint: this isn’t a joke Tony Tony: I’m serious. Good luck. The kids love him, and you’ll need all the luck you can get if you want them to ever root for the side of good instead of wherever-loki-is-at instead. 
---
Pepper: *watching the news* Pepper: oh hey the Avengers are on Peter, running into the room: woW NICE Pepper: wtf why is Hulk wearing giant boxing gloves Peter: Language! Pepper: is Steve's shield padded?! Peter: i don’t remember that being normal Pepper: did most of the Avengers just ditch Steve? Why’re they leaving Peter: I guess the danger must be over? Pepper: WHAT is going ON out there today Peter: I think Loki had planned an attack today so maybe he did it as a joke Pepper: oh they're facing Loki yeah okay that explains it Peter: Loki always does the funniest things of course he baby-proofed all the Avenger's gear! Classic Loki! :D
-meanwhile-
Captain America, tears streaming down his face: pl,,ease, loki,, stop,t his, I cant hit ,,a child Loki: Look at you, the American icon, unable to save all these innocent people from having their skin turn into primary colours, all because you are TOO AFRAID to fight me! Captain America: I’m a national icon, not a good soldier but a good man, I will do whatever it takes to keep innocents safe, but I can NOT beat up someone who isn’t even legal enough to vote Loki: I was around causing chaos before this ‘voting’ was even invented! And I’ll NEVER legally vote even if I could!! mwahahAHAHA- Falcon, to Bucky in the background: How did we not realise he was a teen, all his comebacks are ‘no u’ and ‘uno reverse card’ and ‘look over there!’ Bucky, to Falcon: I don’t know but I really really want to know where he gets his outfits from Falcon: if it means I’ll be seeing you geared up in leather again then I want to know where he gets his outfits from too ;‘) Thor: I think my brother makes his own outfits Loki, still tormenting Captain America: *SISTER Thor: ah, my bad Captain America, crying x2: wait does this mean I’ve been lobbing my shield at not just a child, but I’ve been misgendering them while doing it?! Loki: only occasionally and I don’t blame you that was on me for monologuing too long, really— Captain America, taking off the helmet: nope I’m done Loki: what are you doing Steve, handing Sam the shield: It’s yours. Enjoy. Sam: woah woah woah what’re you doing you cant retire just like that  Steve, unzipping his suit to reveal American flag boxers: watch me Bucky to Sam: hello new best friend Sam, realising that Cap and Bucky are a duo: oh no no no STEVE is your best friend Bucky: he hasn’t been my ‘best friend’ since I saw him with the American flag splayed over his butt Loki, holding his hand out for Sam to shake: Hello there new Captain America its nice to meet you formally, my name is Loki and yes I’m a child but I’m actually 1075 but that is irrelevant if I’m causing trouble and looking for a fight, I’m also genderfluid so yes sometimes my pronouns will be different but I’ll be sure to inform you if it happens Sam: what are you doing Loki: I’m… formally introducing myself Sam: Sam: why?? Loki, blinking to hide that he’s getting teary eyed: well, the last national icon I didn’t do this with ditched me because I didn’t Bucky, a trained assassin, who isn’t a fool: *hugs loki* that wasn’t your fault steve just likes to carry the stupid with him Loki: thanks Bucky: is this a bad time to ask where you get your clothes from…? Loki: I make them Bucky: oh. Well $#!^. Loki, sniffing: if you join the dark side I’ll make you some too Bucky, immediately: done. Sam: JAmES Bucky deadpan: Yes, Samuel, what is it that troubles you, my new arch nemesis? 
---
Sam: HE TOOK BUCKY Natasha: What do you mean ‘he took bucky’ he’s standing right next to you Sam: He’s “infiltrating the enemy” Natasha: *lifts an eyebrow and looks to Bucky* Bucky: It’s true. My loyalties lie elsewhere now. Natasha: ??? Bucky: note to self – unexpected outcomes confuse the black widow. Natasha: how did this happen?? Sam: he SOLD himself out to the ENEMY Natasha: well when you say it like THAT ;) — Bucky: I think friendship is a decent price to pay for decent clothing Natasha: ??? Sam: oh also I’m Captain America now because Steve broke down and quit Natasha: ?!?!?!
---
Peter, entering the room and high-fiving Loki: I heard you got Mr. Bucky to switch teams! Loki: well, my fashion skills ARE legendary Tony, under his breath: he’s not even trying and he’s gotten every kid and the freaking winter soldier on his side and I am so so grateful he isn’t actually TRYING to make everyone go bad
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Bucky: we’ve been over this Steve, Loki is young but he’s also over a thousand years old Steve: I was beating up a KID, Bucky, a kid who was SMALLER and WEAKER than everyone else where he lived but wouldn’t EVER turn down a FIGHT for what he BELIEVES IN and he was probably BULLIED and I wanted the guy DEAD, Bucky– Bucky: don’t forget the genderfluidity thing Steve: he said it wasn’t my fault but I should’ve asked Thor after he referred to Loki as ‘she’ instead of thinking he’d made a mistake and I just can’t – he isn’t even old enough to DRIVE or VOTE or DRINK or BUY A KNIFE or -- Bucky, holding Steve and patting his back: hey now, there, there, it’ll be okay, Bucky: *gives Loki a thumbs up as he sits on the couch with popcorn and watches Steve be miserable*
---
Loki: We need to get through this locked door. Tony, quick, give me your card! Tony, handing the card over: Take it! Loki, pocketing it: Thanks! Morgan, fire at the door Morgan: *pulls out an iron man gauntlet painted green and gold* Tony: hOW COULD you deface YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT with GREEN Morgan: MINE is still being used as a paperweight. This is one of YOUR gauntlets.   Tony, under his breath: maybe it’s not too late to burn the physical evidence and hack Loki’s name off the digital copies of the adoption forms Loki, whispering back: oh its definitely too late. I’m already on your christmas card and everything.
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beesandwasps · 4 months ago
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“A majority of non-Republicans don’t want to vote for Democrats” is not the winning argument you seem to think it is. If anything, your argument suggests that I should step up efforts, because if I can make the Democrats non-viable, people like you would abandon the Democrats (since they are no longer even plausibly a shelter against a Republican victory) and insist on rounding up support for a single alternative option.
As for your other arguments:
Personally, although I don’t think allying with Russia would be good for the US (or anybody — Russia is every bit as self-interested and treacherous as the US has been over the last century), I don’t think it would lead to nuclear war — more likely the opposite. Insofar as I think nuclear war is going to happen, I think it’s far more likely, by several orders of magnitude, that NATO will overplay its hand, underestimate Putin’s willingness to commit suicide if it means not “losing”, and trigger World War III. And Russia, don’t forget, certainly has enough nukes to wipe out both North America and Europe, hands down. And that’s the road Biden wants to go down — even bringing that up tends to make me want to run the other way.
(Until the 1990s, it was accepted wisdom within NATO that expanding NATO membership would cause the USSR to try to conquer countries along its border in an attempt to keep a buffer zone between itself and NATO, and that if there were a confrontation, the USSR would resort to a nuclear first strike. The ever-accelerating NATO expansion started with the addition of Poland, and every new member has been argued for on the basis of “well, Russia hasn’t nuked us yet”… and yet Putin has, in fact, attacked countries between Russia and NATO to create puppet states which de facto serve as a buffer between Russia and NATO, whatever other motives he may have, so the older policy has at least been justified in terms of the outcomes it predicted. Now, then: Putin is far less intelligent than he has sometimes seemed, or else he would have learned from the US disaster in Iraq and not actually invaded Ukraine (he trusted ridiculously optimisitic “intelligence” from people who specifically were trying not to tell him anything he didn’t want to hear, and also thought that an occupying military force would be welcomed as liberators, both of which a smart ruler would have recognized as familiar problems. And then, when he was massing troops at the border, he was getting concessions from everybody, but actually invading destroyed all that and only accelerated expansion of NATO — a smart leader would have predicted that). Putin is also apparently a serious believer in Russian Orthodox Christianity, which (like all branches of Christianity) is an apocalyptic religion that believes that the excesses of its believers in defense of the faith will be forgiven. It would not surprise me at all if he thought that setting off global thermonuclear war to defy The West in defense of Russia was not merely acceptable but morally positive. Therefore I am leery of all this NATO bear-poking which our neoliberal leaders, including Biden, think is okay.)
We’re already making a rapid fall into autocracy — have you not noticed all the Cop Cities? The ones that Joe Biden is funding and thinks are a great idea? What do you think those are? Biden is literally creating the boots that will crush you.
Joe Biden has the privilege of growing old.
Something he denied to tens of thousands of innocent men, women and children by arming the zionist entity.
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