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chyanxrene · 4 years ago

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Sweetheart Part 1

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Draco and Y/N are friend’s with benefits, however Draco doesn’t stick by the rules he created, so Y/N decides to teach him one last lesson.

♡ Warnings: Degradation, pure smut, female receiving

Being friends with benefits with none other than Draco Malfoy was— different. Y/N had expected this however wasn't prepared for the extra feelings that came along with it. She wouldn't dare tell him, that was a secret that was kept to herself and herself only.

It all started at the end of 5th year, Y/N had been paired with Slytherin in potions. It only took two weeks for the duo to act on their sexual tension.

Draco had always been outspoken however she was left speechless when he asked Y/N if there was a potion to stop himself from getting hard around her. Let's just say Y/N and Draco were no longer studying potions.

Though there are many benefits of having sex with Draco Malfoy, the quickies between classes, after classes, sometimes during. Y/N couldn't help but want more from him.

It had been almost a year now and they were still in the same place. Y/N began regretting agreeing to Draco's rules, which at the time she didn't care— but after doing the things she done with him, she found it hard not to grow attached.

There were five rules— the consequences if you were to break one was to cut all ties with one another.

1. No catching feelings— At all 2. No sexual relations with anyone else 3. If you are to get in a relationship with another person then let the other know immediately 4. Stays between both parties, no one else should know 5. No catching feelings

The five rules, well technically four were easy at first. But it became harder for Y/N to grasp the fact that Draco would never truly be hers.

It had been a month since the last time they fucked. Usually it was a few times a week— always on Draco's time. But something had changed, she didn't know what. She couldn't just ask him as she was in Y/H/N and he was in Slytherin.

She walked into the great hall and sat on her house's table. She picked apart her food whilst reading over her charms book, her head snapped up when she heard a deep chuckle and a giggle from the Slytherin table.

Her heart sank, she watched as the boy she had feelings for wrap his arm around a blonde witches waist. His mouth was attached to her neck, kissing it lightly, she was blushing and laughing.

Y/N felt sick, she couldn't watch it anymore. Draco had broken rules two and three and didn't even tell her— she had to cut all ties now. She stood up quickly and rushed back to her common room, she sunk into a deep sleep after wetting her pillow with tears.

The next day Y/N woke up, she felt a tension headache from all that crying. But she knew she had to be stronger, she sucked up her tears and decided to get Draco Malfoy back— before she cut all ties.

Y/N was already beautiful, her hair was always well managed. She had a few admirers and was seen as the Y/H/N's sweetheart. Today she wasn't going to be a sweetheart, the anger inside of her wouldn't let her.

She wouldn't change her appearance for him, oh no, she'd never let a boy effect her in that way. She just wanted revenge, her first class was potions, she sat next to Draco in this and this would be the perfect time to initiate her plan.

Y/N completed her normal beauty routine— although she did add an extra layer of lip gloss. With her head held high she walked confidently into potions class, Draco hadn't arrived but she knew he would soon.

"You're late Mr Malfoy" The Professor spoke.

Draco had walked in with his hand slumped over the same blonde girls shoulder. She pecked his cheek and ran to her seat which was at the other end of the room.

"Sorry Professor."

His smell was overpowering, the smell she had grown so accustomed too. It gave her goosebumps but she had to stay strong.

"You're not going to say hello?" Draco whispered, whilst writing notes.

Y/N looked at him, sending him a small smile "you didn't either, but Hello Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" He laughed "You know I prefer it when you call me Draco."

Y/N let out a small laugh "we're not friends."

His eyes caught hers, he smirked and then nodded.

The class went on, Y/N was feeling better about herself however she nearly jumped out of her seat when she felt Draco's hand on her bare thigh.

Y/N's hand pushed his away however his hand only held onto her thigh tighter.

"What are you doing?" She whispered harshly.

"Can my hand not be here anymore Y/N?"

His finger was becoming dangerously close to where she wanted him most. She was aroused, her underwear becoming wet from his soft touches.

"Get off."

"No."

She tried to move his hand he was too strong. He looked around before leaning into her, pretending he was talking about work as he still continued to write notes.

"I want to be inside you Y/N."

Her heart was racing, she wanted that too. She was conflicted, her body was betraying her but her mind was more stronger, time for Plan B.

"Y/N." Draco growled, his finger now stroking up and down her clothed pussy.

She licked her bottom lip "yes?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

Y/N hummed in response as his finger brushed slowly against her clit.

"Meet me in the broom closet after class, I want to feel your wet cunt around my dick."

His finger paused, he was searching for a response, Y/N was suddenly breathless. She couldn't give in to him. Without him knowing he was playing her around, it wasn't fair— but the pleasure he gave her was unmatched.

So she nodded slowly.

Draco smirked "you're a good girl, my good little slut."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a whimper, which resulted in him letting out a short laugh. His fingers were now on the desk, he continued to listen in class as if he wasn't just touching her clit.

Class was soon over, both Draco and Y/N got up slowly. They didn't leave together— no that would be too suspicious. Draco strolled over to his arm candy, he whispered something in her ear, causing her to blush and giggle.

Again Y/N felt stupid, she suddenly wanted the ground to swallow her. His eyes met hers, she knew that look, it was his look to tell her 'go now'.

Within ten minutes Draco had Y/N against the door, attacking her neck with his mouth.

"I can't believe I've managed to wait this long" Draco whispered.

"Did you miss me sweetheart?"

She did, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, so she simply looked away. His hand slowly trailed down her body and slipped under her skirt.

"Don't make me ask twice."

Y/N moaned as she felt her underwear now being tugged down her thighs by him, his thumb brushed her clit slowly, circling it with the right amount of pleasure.

"I-I, oh God."

His middle finger entered her slick pussy, curling and rubbing against her rippled walls. Draco's other hand sharply grabbed a chunk of Y/N's hair, dragging her head back.

"Answer the fucking question."

His breath was heavy on her face as he searched her eyes. His hand was tighter in her hair, she winced at the pain.

"Yes— fuck, I missed you."

His finger pumped in and out, whilst the pad of his thumb rubbed her clit harder.

"Tell me what you missed sweetheart— maybe I might give you it."

Y/N's mind was hazy, her breathing was heavy. Draco's hand was still nestled into her hair, his eyes boring into her own.

"I—I missed— shit."

He added another finger, kissing along her collar bone, they were wet kisses, just like how he liked. He wouldn't dare leave a mark— no that would be wrong.

"Go on, speak."

"I missed, your— mouth."

Draco's tongue ran up the side of her neck, he knew exactly where her sweet spot was. Y/N moaned quietly at this, her pussy was aching for a release.

He hummed in response, his mouth and fingers still working their magic.

"What about my mouth Y/N?"

Draco knew Y/N wasn't comfortable speaking like this, but that only turned him on more. She was innocent in his eyes— she'd let him do anything to her, that’s why he kept coming back.

"Come on sweetheart, use you words— let me hear your voice."

"I missed when you— oh fuck."

A third finger was added, stretching her, she felt full but this was nothing compared to what Draco had in his trousers.

"Do you like when my mouth is on yours? Hmm— or on your clit?"

"B-both."

"My greedy little slut" he laughed.

Draco's hand released Y/N's hair, she could hear the wet noises that came from her pussy as Draco's fingers thrusted in and out of it at a rapid pace.

"You'll be a good girl and cum on my tongue?".

It was more of a statement than a question. Y/N's eyes were screwed shut, her mouth was open slightly, she couldn't think.

Draco slapped her cheek— not hard but enough for a stinging sensation to occur.

"Answer me" he growled.

His fingers never slowed down, they continued fucking her with an unimaginable speed. She was going to cum— soon.

Her eyes widened, she felt her left cheek heat up as the sharp pain wore off.

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Draco."

He fell to his knees, his hand pushed her knee, forcing her to widen her stance. His mouth was on her clit straight away, sucking and biting at his.

The shockwaves of pleasure was amazing, Y/N knew this would be an intense orgasm.

"Oh— God."

"No, say my name— it's me— it's me who's doing this— say my fucking name."

Y/N's head slammed back onto the door as her body arched off it. Draco lifted her right leg over his shoulder, allowing him more access to her pussy.

His fingers now went to her clit whilst his tongue entered her tight hole.

"Yes— Draco" Y/N cried out, one finger entered her again and joined his tongue inside her.

She was close, ready to cum in his mouth. He knew this as he felt her pussy tighten around his finger. His spare hand flicked her clit and then rubbed it quickly.

"Mmm— fuck— Draco."

Y/N's eyes closed as she felt herself cum, her leg was shaking on top of Draco's shoulder. He lapped up her orgasm— humming at her taste. Giving her two more pumps with his finger, he kissed her clit and stood up.

His dick was hard, the outline of it evident against his school trousers. His mouth was lips were wet from her cum.

He took his finger, tracing his lips and then pushing the finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucking on the taste.

"Good girl."

Draco began palming his cock, unbuttoning it and then unzipping it, his eyes were heavy, full of lust.

Y/N who had now regained her normal breath, reached for her underwear and slipped them back on, she smiled at Draco. Who had a puzzled look on his face.

Y/N smiled at him sweetly and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you for the great orgasm."

Draco's face was in a frown now "where the fuck are you going?"

Y/N's hand was on the door handle, opening it slightly. She looked him up and down and then smirked.

"I got better things to do— sweetheart."

And with that she slammed the door shut, Draco's protests were heard as she exited the room. She felt amazing, empowered and satisfied.

But deep down she knew— he would be coming for her and he would be coming with vengeance.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x y/n #harrypotter #harry potter #dracomalfoy

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quicksilversquared · 4 years ago

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The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 3

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

When news of an akuma attack reached Lila, she barely bit back a cheer. In the couple days since she got the Peacock, she had been waiting for this moment.

Ladybug would be going down today.

A glance at the clock told Lila that she had plenty of time before her mom came home- honestly, Hawkmoth had timed the attack perfectly because she didn't have to make excuses to get out of class or get away from her mom- and then she transformed. The magic rushed over her- it wasn't a completely new sensation, she had tried doing it before- and then Pavona rushed out the window, heading towards the battle. It was a loud one, and unsurprisingly, the superheroes were already there. Hawkmoth wasn't, not yet- he tended to show up later in the fight when he did go out, so that didn't mean anything- so it was going to be two on two, at least until she pulled out her amok.

Lila didn't want to do that too early. She apparently was going to have that ridiculous five-minute timer like Ladybug and Chat Noir, so getting her sentimonster out too soon would mean that she wouldn't be able to stay on the battlefield and kick superhero butt. Apparently Mayura hadn't had that particular drawback, which was both annoying and unfair, but there was nothing that Lila could do about that.

It was absolutely child's play to sneak up behind the superheroes, dodging over the rooftops and not flinging herself up into the sky like the superheroes always seemed to. Pavona smirked as she slid into position, right above Ladybug.

This was just too easy. The superheroes hadn't spotted her at all. Really, all she needed to do was pounce and fall directly on top of Ladybug and then grab her earrings. Just like that, it would be bye-bye, little bug.

Sure, there would still be Chat Noir to deal with, but it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that he always took direction from Ladybug. With her out of the picture, it should be pretty easy to lure Chat Noir into a trap and take him down with the sheer force of numbers. Four against one- her, Hawkmoth, his akuma and her amok- would be overwhelming, and then they would have the Cat Miraculous in their hands.

With visions of victory in her head, Pavona took a couple steps back before taking a running start and launching herself into the air, dropping through the sky straight at Ladybug's head.

Impact in eight- seven- six- five- four- three-

"Ladybug, watch out!"

Ladybug jerked in response to Chat Noir's shout, not even hesitating to figure out which way the threat was coming from before bolting, going from a standstill to a speeding train in half a second. All of a sudden, Pavona's target was gone, leaving nothing between her and the very solid street and no time for her to catch herself.

Crunch.

So much for an awe-inspiring (or fear-inspiring) entrance.

Cursing, Pavona shoved herself to her feet before the superheroes could turn on her, raising her hands into what she hoped was a battle stance. Across from her, Ladybug had already spun around to face Pavona, her yo-yo whistling as it spun. The superhero's eyes flashed over Pavona once, twice, and then her eyebrows went up and she exchanged a fast look with Chat Noir.

Pavona scowled. What kind of look was that? It seemed super judgy, which- uh, what was Ladybug judging her for? She had seen the superheroes do undignified wipeouts loads of times.

(She also had a compilation of those clips on her computer, just for amusement's sake. She had intended on stringing them together in a video, but she didn't know how to do that and it really wouldn't be possible to ask any of her classmates, since it would just look suspicious.)

"So Hawkmoth has a new little sidekick," Ladybug taunted, her eyes narrowing at Pavona and- ugh, she was smirking! Clearly she wasn't going to take Pavona seriously as a threat. "What happened to Mayura?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you," Pavona snarked back, plastering on her own smirk. Ladybug didn't know what was about to hit her. Lila had been plenty powerful as an akuma, so it only made sense that she would be even more powerful when she had the full strength of a Miraculous on her side instead of just whatever portion she got as an akuma. "You're gonna be wishing that she was still here soon, though, just wait!"

Chat Noir snorted. "Yeah, we'll see about that." He glanced over to Ladybug. "D'you wanna take the akuma while I take Princess Wannabe here?"

"You got it!"

"Wait, no-" Pavona started before catching herself. She should have guessed that Chat Noir would take on the more intimidating threat and leave the weaker opponent to Ladybug. Fine. She would just take him down first, then. That, or at least keep him occupied enough that he wouldn't be able to come to Ladybug's aid when the akuma overpowered her-

Pavona couldn't hold back the yelp as she was suddenly forced to defend herself from a too-sudden attack from Chat Noir. He had lunged before she was ready, and now she was forced to be on the defense instead of being the one to push the attacks.

One blow, then two, three, four-and-five too fast to count. Pavona couldn't help but yelp again as the butt end of Chat Noir's baton swung around and jabbed her in the stomach, too fast of a movement to follow. She barely ducked the swing at her head- she hadn't asked Hawkmoth how much the suit protected her against other users, and clearly that was a major oversight- and found herself scrambling backwards on sheer instinct, everything in her screaming that she was outmatched.

Which- which was ridiculous, if she thought about it logically! She was smart! She was crafty! The superheroes had struggled to win against her akuma forms! It was just that she was having to rely on hand-to-hand combat instead of having powers, which was an adjustment, and-

-and there was no time for thinking about it too much, because Chat Noir wasn't letting up in his attack at all. Pavona was sent flying with one blow, then had to roll out of the way of another full-force blow. The next hit so close under her ear that her hair gave her scalp a sharp tug as it went flying.

Pavona dashed out of the way, getting in a couple unaimed swings and buying herself a little space. Chat Noir was relentless, though, and she was getting outfought.

Just because she kept reflexively trying to use powers that she didn't have anymore, that was why! It wasn't because he was better or anything stupid like that.

Still, she hadn't been expecting that, and staying out like this wouldn't go very well. Pavona flicked out her fan, pulling out a feather like Duusu had told her to do. Then she would have to- to pull in negative energy from the air? That part hadn't been very clear-

And then that thought, too, got interrupted when she had to dodge out of the way of another of Chat Noir's blows and then he promptly grabbed her by the bottom of her skirt as she fled and flung her into the sky, tumbling head over heels down the street. Pavona landed with another oomph, rolling over to see Chat Noir dashing down to road towards her, ready to hit her again.

It was now or never. Only half-focused on what she was doing, Pavona tried to pull in negative energy- and clearly something was happening, the feather was changing colors- and then slapped it into the closest thing she could reach.

Unfortunately, that thing was a bit of broken asphalt, but it would have to do. A monster erupted out of nowhere, pushing Chat Noir back. Pavona smirked in triumph- now the fight could go her way!- before a sharp beep from her brooch wiped the smirk off of her face.

Right. Now she just had five minutes to defeat Chat Noir and get out. That wasn't exactly the best position to be in.

"Get back, ugly!" Chat Noir yelled at the sentimonster, whacking the whatever-it-was in the face with his baton. He spun it, hitting it again. And again, and again, and again.

He was actually pushing it back, Pavona realized with a bit of horror. Even though her sentimonster looked intimidating, it was shying away from the hits, continuously losing ground. Pavona moved back as well, trying to keep her creation between her and the superhero while she figured out a new plan of attack.

Her brooch beeped. Four minutes.

Pavona scowled, readying her weapon again as Chat Noir advanced another couple of steps. Maybe if she jumped over her sentimonster and dropped down on him? Or she could try to circle to the side without being noticed, or- no!

While she had been distracted, Chat Noir had pushed far enough forward to grab the bit of pavement that she had possessed with the amok- and had dropped right after, that hadn't been the best plan- and crushed it, letting the feather loose. Barely a moment later, Ladybug's yo-yo zipped out of nowhere, snagging the feather and purifying it. Pavona glanced in her direction, utterly baffled- Ladybug was supposed to be busy with the akuma, right?- to see the formerly akumatized person sitting on a rooftop, just recently defeated. Somehow, without Pavona realizing it, Ladybug had won. Now, it was two against one, and not in her favor.

As her sentimonster dissolved, Pavona bolted, scrambling for somewhere to hide and detransform. She might have to walk home, but that was better than getting ganged up on and possibly even defeated.

Ladybug and Chat Noir might have won this battle, but it had only been Pavona's first time out. Next time, she would know what to expect. She would be ready.

And Ladybug would be going down.

Things really weren't going as Lila had planned. Not even remotely close.

"I can't believe we haven't won yet," Lila muttered as she slumped to the floor in her room after coming back following a fight. It had been almost a week- and seven akuma attacks, Hawkmoth had decided to pick up the pace- since she took over as the Peacock holder, and they hadn't made any progress towards defeating the superheroes, even though she had definitely (in her eyes, at least) already made a lot of progress with getting used to her powers and fighting. "That's so annoying!"

"Well, Hawkmoth has been trying to win for over a year now without any success," Duusu piped up, ever-helpful and ever-missing-the-point. "So a week is hardly any time at all!"

Lila scowled. That was entirely unhelpful.

She was used to getting results right away, darn it. Lila's lies had always brought her instant (or near-instant) gratification. She did something or said something, she got a positive result within minutes, or at least within a day. Having to work at it for any significant amount of time without seeing results wasn't something that she was really used to doing.

But she wasn't going to give up. She still had some ideas that she wanted to try out but hadn't yet, since she was still getting used to her powers. All she had needed was a little practice, and then she could truly be Ladybug's worst nightmare.

It was just annoying that it wasn't happening faster.

Still scowling, Lila headed over to her computer. The news feed on it was still going, left on after she had used it to figure out where the akuma was and what its powers were. Madam Chamack was still talking onscreen, so Lila popped her headphones back on. She immediately regretted it.

"-so glad that we have our fantastic superheroes to always save the day," Madam Chamack was saying, beaming at the camera. "A big thanks to them! And now, for those of you who missed it, our lovely editors have put together a highlight reel of our most recent akuma attack!"

Onscreen, Madam Chamack's face was replaced by a scene from the akuma attack. Pavona stood tall and proud on a rooftop, her (very fashionable) outfit fluttering a little with the breeze. Then the superheroes landed and she charged... only for her face to be met by a very solid roundhouse kick from Ladybug. Pavona went flying back, landing on her back in an undignified heap.

Lila's teeth ground together. Ladybug looked positively smug as she dashed towards the fallen Pavona, clearly ready to deal another blow to her opponent. The scene was cut short, though, swapping to a shot of Chat Noir tripping the akuma with his baton, and Lila smirked when she realized why.

Yes, Ladybug getting tossed off of a rooftop by Hawkmoth probably wasn't considered a highlight to most of Paris, was it? Unfortunate. Lila certainly considered those parts to be the best sections of the fight.

Disappointingly, the rest of the highlight reel went the same way. It showed the akuma getting beat up, Pavona getting beat up, Pavona getting cornered and panic-creating what was probably her weakest sentimonster yet to get herself out. The cameras had also caught Pavona's childish frustrated stomp after Hawkmoth had ordered her to retreat, which...

Well, it wasn't a shining moment of hers. But in her defense, she had just been making some progress with fighting Ladybug when Chat Noir totally cheated and attacked her from behind. It hadn't been like she had just been sitting on the ground and flailing helplessly or something.

If it was just her and her sentimonster against Ladybug, she would definitely win. But did anyone ever acknowledge that? No.

With a huff, Lila closed the window. Madam Chamack's voice cut off, and Lila breathed a sigh of relief that she no longer had to hear the absolutely maddening gushing over Ladybug. That relief was short-lived when her phone dinged with a message from Alya. Lila opened it, eager for something to distract her from her latest failure, only to see a message squealing about the latest fight and hadn't Ladybug looked so amazing as she took down Hawkmoth's newest sidekick?

Ugh. It was unfortunate that Alya was such a Ladybug fan, but it was an unavoidable annoyance. Alya had visibility thanks to her little blog, and that visibility was something that Lila needed access to. So she had to play the part of Ladybug's best friend (ha) to keep Alya firmly by her side and hanging off of Lila's every word.

Which meant, unfortunately, that Lila had to grit her teeth and type back an all-too-cheery response, praising Ladybug and her fighting prowess. She couldn't resist a dig, though, by pointing out how nice Pavona's outfit looked next to Ladybug's. She had offered to redesign Ladybug's suit for her before, of course, but the superhero was just too attached to her basic look. Maybe now she would reconsider, since the supervillains looked so well-dressed next to her!

Smirking, Lila set her phone aside. Maybe the Ladyblog would run an article soon calling out the plainness of Ladybug's costume. It wouldn't be framed like that, of course, but- well, maybe Alya would do a comparison of the superheroes' costumes and the supervillain's outfits? Anyone with eyes would be able to tell that the supervillains had far more fashion sense. They didn't look like they had slapped on a onesie and called it a day.

"Next time, I'll do better," Lila told the room at large, pulling up a secret file on her computer buried several folders deep. It was where she stored all of her notes to herself about her secret identity, the few suggestions that Hawkmoth had given her and ideas she had come up with for sentimonster powers. "I'll do better, and I'll show the superheroes. They'll regret crossing me!"

Next time, she would pull out one of her best sentimonster ideas. It would be too slippery for Ladybug and Chat Noir to catch, and then while they were scratching their heads, she could sneak in behind them and get their Miraculous. Maybe today's weak sentimonster could actually work in her favor by making the superheroes underestimate her for the next fight. She just had to take advantage of that and hit hard, and hope that Hawkmoth would match her with a really strong akuma. Maybe she could talk to him and coordinate the powers for maximum effect- except no, he had seemed rather peeved at her after the fight. It wouldn't be smart for her to push her luck-

The thought was cut off by a sudden tickle in Lila's throat and suddenly she found herself coughing so hard that her eyes watered. Her breath caught painfully in her throat, and it took her a minute to stop coughing. When she did, she frowned.

That was strange and completely out of nowhere. She hadn't been eating or drinking anything, so she hadn't swallowed water or something wrong. She hadn't been sick, and- despite what she said at school- she didn't have allergies. There hadn't been any dust stirred up in her room, so it couldn't be that, either.

Maybe it was just a weird one-off thing and she shouldn't worry about it.

Her phone dinged again, and Lila reached out to grab it, opening up the message right away.

Alya: Superheroes: function over fashion. Supervillains: fashion over function. That could be a really cool Ladyblog article! It really shows how much smarter our superheroes are compared to the supervillains!

Lila could only bury her face in her pillows and scream. That was not the way she had wanted Alya to go with that idea!

Seriously, why was nothing going her way today?

Another week later, and Lila's partnership with Hawkmoth had gone from bad to worse.

All of her best sentimonster ideas had been completely wasted after their powers completely clashed with the akuma of the day's powers. She had abandoned pre-brainstormed ideas after a particularly disastrous one, going back to looking at what Hawkmoth's akuma could do and then basing her sentimonster off of that. Still, even with that, they weren't doing as well as Hawkmoth had been doing with Mayura, which- well, it was infuriating.

Hawkmoth had even chewed Lila out several times during the week for needing to be rescued during the battles- by her sentimonster, by his akuma, even, on one occasion, by Hawkmoth himself- for taking "unnecessary risks" (really, calculated gambles that just hadn't gone quite right, usually because he and his akuma hadn't cooperated with her or because she had been up late plotting and was super-tired during the battle) and getting overpowered by the more experienced fighters, aka the pain-in-the-butt superheroes. He hadn't been pleased about that, and after their most recent battle, he had ordered her to stay on the back lines now or else and just let her sentimonster do the fighting for her.

That- that was so unfair, really! It had made her so mad that she had stomped around her room for two hours, mad enough to be akumatized... but Hawkmoth hadn't sent a butterfly her way. Which was probably wise, because more than a little of her ire at the time had been directed straight at him.

Really, she couldn't figure out why things weren't working out right! Lila had held her own as an akuma every time she got akumatized. Sure, maybe she had always lost in the end, but she hadn't had the advantage of getting to work with a sentimonster. The battles with her had always dragged out, because she was smart and clever and capable and a good fighter! It made absolutely no sense that she was getting her butt handed to her by Ladybug now that she held her own Miraculous. She had said as much to Hawkmoth when he last scolded her, and he had just chewed her out more for expecting that she would get the same boost in fighting instincts from a Miraculous as she had from an akumatization.

Needless to say, it wasn't looking good for her chances of getting a Miraculous as a thanks once the superheroes got defeated. Even if she got to play a role in that defeat, Lila was getting the feeling that Hawkmoth was starting to get tired of her and her disappointing performances out on the battlefield.

Really, though, was it truly Lila's fault that she struggled with fighting? Shouldn't Hawkmoth have given her some training or something first instead of just handing her a bit of magical jewelry- magical jewelry that apparently didn't boost her fighting ability, that would have been useful information from the start!- and sending her out against superheroes that had had over a year's experience with battling akumas and supervillains alike? He was practically setting her up to fail when she looked at it like that! And when she asked about training- like a responsible person, like a motivated person- he had just blown her off.

Seriously. Setting her up to fail. And Lila was positive that with a little training, she would be able to take on the superheroes and win, no problem. It would totally even out the battlefield! The problem was that she didn't have any training, and apparently wasn't about to get any, either.

Honestly, was Hawkmoth serious about wanting to win or not? Because he really wasn't acting like it, what with not wanting to train her at all.

And then, because apparently things were determined not to go her way, Lila was coming down with something. She had been feeling a little woozy sometimes for the last couple of days, and had been coughing, too, with the coughing fits becoming more and more frequent.

Lila refused to let Hawkmoth know. She couldn't let him think that she was weak and take the Miraculous away or something, just because she wasn't at 100%.

Maybe it was for the better that Hawkmoth had banned her from the battlefield for the time being. If her stupid cold distracted her mid-fight and made her lose, then Hawkmoth would be furious. It wouldn't matter that it wasn't her fault that she was sick, or that she had been willing to power through whatever bug was attacking her system to help him. No, all Hawkmoth would care about was how she had inconvenienced him.

Really, he was a super sucky person to be on a team with, but Lila wasn't about to quit. She had joined him with a goal in mind, darn it, and she wouldn't waste her opportunity.

Maybe Hawkmoth sucked, but he wasn't call-out-her-civilian-self-for-lying-when-it-wasn't-hurting-anyone levels of suck. Not yet, at least. He was kind of trending in that direction, though.

"Stupid Ladybug, stupid Chat Noir, stupid cold," Lila grumbled to herself as she downed half of her travel cup of tea in one go, hoping to ease her sore throat. She had taken the opportunity to leave the school campus at lunch to get tea in a nearby cafe in the hopes that it would help, but- well, she was pretty sure that the overly-hot tea had just burned her tongue. Which was exactly the opposite of helping. "And stupid-" She bit back the stupid Hawkmoth before it could slip. She didn't know how much Duusu would report to Hawkmoth when Mayura took him back, but she didn't want to accidentally sabotage her chances of working with him again after this, whether that was just as a frequently akumatized person or with a different Miraculous, if they managed to steal one of the temporary heroes' Miraculous. Sure, he had seen her curse Hawkmoth out before, right after he banned her from coming out in person, but she had managed to wave that away as a temporary surge of annoyance, a feeling that would be gone soon enough. Besides, there was no obvious connection between her anger at him now and what had actually happened. Hawkmoth hadn't given her the cold, after all. "Ugh. This is no fun."

"At least your friends seem eager to help!" Duusu chirped from her shirt collar. "Three have offered to help you study, and then another offered to let you copy her homework if you aren't feeling well enough to finish! They're very supportive."

Lila resisted the urge to curl her lip at the kwami. Seriously, wasn't Duusu supposed to be some wise, ancient being? Shouldn't it be obvious to him by now that her classmates weren't really her friends? Sure, they probably thought that they were, but all they were to her was a means to an end. And of course they were tripping over themselves to help her.

Poor, unfortunate Lila. She spent so much time helping charities and doing good things for others and what did she get in return? Hearing loss and tinnitus and weak joints and illnesses affecting her more than most people. She was already struggling to keep up, what with all of the other things that she was trying to juggle, so of course it made sense for her classmates to step up and help her so that Lila could continue to be a force for good in the world.

Not, of course, that she was actually out helping people. Volunteering and organizing charities and donating and all of that- well, that was work. Work that wouldn't benefit her in any way and would just unnecessarily fill up her time. Why should other people's suffering be her problem?

It worked just as well to just claim that she was volunteering and helping other people out. She got all of the glory with none of the work, which was a rather good arrangement in her opinion.

(What wasn't a good arrangement, at least in Lila's eyes, was having to deal with an annoying flying sidekick to get her magical powers. Duusu was super annoying and always wanted to know what she was doing and always asked about the stories she told and seemed quite puzzled when Lila told him that no, that one wasn't true either.

She didn't need a small anthropomorphic being questioning why she was making up stories. It wasn't like it was any of Duusu's business anyway.)

Lila left the cafe partway through her lunch hour after she had started coughing and everyone around her started giving her a major side-eye. She resisted the urge to glare at them- seriously, couldn't they mind their own business? It wasn't like she was coughing at them- and packed up instead, heading out to a quiet park to finish nursing her cup of tea, hoping that it would make a difference. On the way back to school, she picked up a cup of coffee.

Hawkmoth had decided to wake the whole city up with a crazy early attack, after all. Maybe she needed the tea for her throat- it had felt absolutely terrible after the fight, even though she hadn't done any fighting in person- but she needed coffee so that she wouldn't fall asleep in her afternoon classes. If she did, her mom would probably be called and then that would be the end of- well, her reign at school, probably.

She didn't want her mom anywhere near her teachers, thank-you-very-much.

"Oh, you already picked up a drink," Rose said when Lila got back to school, already regretting drinking so much. She was going to be running to the bathroom all afternoon. Rose looked a bit disappointed as she rolled up onto her toes to look into Lila's cup, clutching a thermos in her hand. "I made some tea for you! It's probably better for your throat than coffee."

Lila opened her mouth, very ready to make up something about not being able to have tea, when she suddenly became very aware about how very much her throat still hurt.

...maybe she could get away with frequent bathroom trips without the teachers calling her mom.

"Thank you, Rose, you're so kind!" Lila exclaimed, pressing her free hand to her heart. "So kind and thoughtful! That thermos looks really well insulated, so hopefully it'll stay warm longer. Then I can have warm drinks all afternoon! That will be really nice. And hopefully it will help my throat get better before my conference call with the royal family in England this weekend. I want to persuade them to help with my efforts to end global pollution, and I won't be able to cover all of my points if I lose my voice!"

"Oh, that would be terrible," Rose agreed, passing the thermos over to her. "I hope you feel better soon!"

Lila smiled, accepting the tea. "Thank you!"

Thankfully, Rose took off back to her desk after that and Lila could largely drop her act. She couldn't drop it completely- acting anywhere near as sullen as she felt would damage her public image, and that was the one thing she couldn't risk- but she didn't have to pretend to be all perky and thankful and selfless.

It wasn't that hard to keep up the act on a normal day, but when Lila was already frustrated and angry and feeling sick, it was just that much more energy that she didn't have.

Ugh. How unlucky did she have to be to get sick right in the middle of her big opportunity with Hawkmoth?

That was so unfair.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #The Wavering Peahen

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jiminwreckedme · 5 years ago

Text

The Beautiful Deception

Chapter 3

| Masterlist | Trailer | Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Member - Bts OT7

Genre - Thriller, Mystery, Angst, (Smut)

Word count - 5K

Summary - When your ex-boyfriend’s wife goes missing, you are the only one who can help him find her. But in a world where everyone is a friend and everyone is a culprit, where lies are decorated with the best ornaments of facade, where everybody and nobody is right, how will you find out what happened to the woman he loves?

Without falling for him all over again?

Warnings - Mentions of blood and anger management issues.

Rating - NC17 for mature themes of the whole series.

23rd February 2017

As sleep begins to leave your company, you feel your eyes flutter open, the obscurity slowly fading away. There’s a bunch of tables and computers, people in blue uniforms working away on them, the sounds of typing overpowering the ever-present buzz of the printer. Letting out an inaudible sigh, you let your eyes shut once again.

This is your 5th day at the police station. For the last few days, you’ve been sitting on these very benches waiting with Yoongi for that officer, Jeon Jungkook. But even after five days, forget meeting him you didn’t so much as see him. His subordinates always gave some or the other reason for his unavailability. To you though, it always seemed like excuses. “Officer Jeon is attending a briefing in the town council.” “Officer Jeon has some more important cases to attend to.” “Officer Jeon only handles emergency cases on weekends.” Excuses. All excuses. It was almost as though he was purposely avoiding Yoongi, and two days ago when you unwittingly voiced your suspicion, Yoongi confirmed it for you.

“He probably is.”

“Why though?”

“Maybe he’s a man who holds a grudge.”

“Why do you think that….”

“Because he’s not always had pleasant experiences when it comes to me.”

“Why? What did you do Yoongi?”

“Something he clearly hasn’t forgotten yet.”

He didn’t tell you more than that and you didn’t ask either. Maybe because a part of you knew the root cause - Min Yoongi had the affinity to make enemies around town.

His poor anger management, his impulsiveness, his rashness, his overly agitated self, they were his closest companions and his biggest flaws. It was in his nature to rebel, to fight against everything that was thrown at him, without even pausing once to think if it was for the good or bad. As a result, fist fights, verbal provocation, acts of rebellion, they were all a part of his everyday life. If there was one thing you could change about Yoongi, it would have to be his need to confront everything without being afraid of the consequences his acts might have.

But you never once tried. You never stopped him. You never told him to change for you.

Because you knew what made him like that. You knew how broken he was on the inside and how he constantly guarded those shattered pieces, refusing to let them break anymore. You knew he hurt everyone around him first so they didn’t have a chance to do the same to him. Yoongi wasn’t an angry man, he was a broken one.

Asking him to not fight was not the solution. Asking him to control himself was not the answer. What Yoongi truly needed was to be set free from his pain, he needed to heal from the inside, he needed to be loved. So that’s what you did. You tried to love him so much, there was no room for his bitterness anymore. You held his hand every time they shook in fear. You looked into his eyes with answers every time he was lost. You nursed his wounds, helped him walk when he was limping and let him lean against you when he needed to. You always stood by Yoongi’s side.

Over time though, Yoongi started holding himself back. A man who punched people without a second thought stopped himself after balling his fists. A man who could barely control his sharp tongue before those who provoked him, learned to keep quiet. Not because you managed to heal him, no, if only getting rid of such a deeply rooted misery was that easy. But he held himself back because no matter how brave you pretended to be and no matter how hard you tried to hide it, Yoongi saw how you silently cried when you attempted to cure his wounds. When he realized how much his pain saddened you, he stopped letting himself get hurt and like most things between the two of you, words didn’t have to be exchanged for him to understand your plight and you to understand his reasons. He just knew and you just knew.

We were so good together Yoongi. Why did this happen to us?

And now he was married, something he swore never to do because…. because that was the source of all the thorns that pricked him - The failed marriage of his parents. He refused to let that be his fate, refused to ever let himself be bind to another in that relationship. Yet now he sits next to you, with a ring on his finger, searching for his wife, the woman who healed him and made him believe in the institution of marriage, something you couldn’t do for years. She healed him in ways you failed to and that didn’t hurt you as much as one might think it would. Maybe because the fact that Yoongi’s suffering had lessened was enough for you, it didn’t matter how and why that happened.

What hurt was that all her efforts were reversing now, Min Yoongi was becoming a man of his past once more.

You saw it that day.

You saw what her absence did to him, you saw what her memories made him turn into.

21st February 2017

You’re standing at the edge of the backyard watching the sun set behind the Min Manor, the golden colours adding to its glory.

The Min Manor was one of the biggest and oldest estates in the city and for decades. Their lineage was known for showing off its affluent lifestyle particularly through its outrageously extravagant holiday parties, celebrations that made their balance sheets run in negatives. It’s carefully thought out themes were unmatched, the unnecessarily expensive decor bulged eyeballs, the much more than needed food could possibly feed half the city and the performances displayed were absolutely unbelievable so it was no wonder that they were the talk of the town for days. Not just the Elite families, even the common man who was not fortunate enough to attend it would desperately wait for the Min Manor to house its festivities. To simply put it, the Min family was pretty much the Gatsby of South Korea.

All up until about 10 years ago.

10 years ago, for a reason that was never revealed to the world, the Min Manor suddenly stopped housing its insane events, causing an uproar in the community. The press had stationed themselves before the manor, demanding for answers, the public who already spoke about them excessively, began discussing about them even more and the high-end families suddenly didn't know what to do with their weekends anymore. Over time, as the Min family started completely disappearing from every possible social circle, papers and magazines that wouldn’t sell without their names in it, slowly forgot about them. Conversations that took place around their lives ceased to occur. No one looked out for them, waited for them or even remembered them anymore. It was like society had wiped out their existence.

But one thing that didn’t change to this date is the grandeur they always had, and the Min Manor, which stood just as regally as it did for generations now.

While its affluence till date continued to tempt everyone, the only person it couldn’t impress was Min Yoongi.

You turn around, ignoring the sky’s low rumble, looking at what you had discovered during your solitary walk around the estate. Yoongi’s campervan. The tiny place he lived abandoning all the riches and luxury of his family. The space that was not just personal to him but to you as well. There were countless afternoons the two of you just laid down on the bed under the window, limbs tangled under the sheets, your laughter the only sound in that small space. There were so many hours when you sat watching him work on his music, so many take-aways you shared with him, so many books he kept stacking because you loved to read them. The name you painted at the side of his camper is still there. And your handprint next to it, the one that you accidently left in an attempt to balance yourself as you got out of Yoongi’s lap where you had positioned yourself comfortably to do this little project of yours.

As the sky darkens, a flash of lightning illuminates everything, letting you see more the details of the state it was in today - shambles. The white painted metal was corroding to a brown colour, shades of green splashed across it as creepers and moss, dust had settled on the surface, hiding the beautiful caravan under it.

Yoongi loved this more than his life. The thought that he would leave something so precious to him in such a sorry state puzzles you but then again, Yoongi had let go a lot of things he had once claimed were cherished.

He left me.

The sky starts to drizzle its contents ever so slowly, but you don’t mind it, watching the water wash away the dirt in little rivets. You don’t bother even when it gets a little heavier, forming puddles around you. You don’t care until all of sudden like an overturned bucket, the sky begins dumping its contents relentlessly, making you finally shield your head with your arms and rush across the uneven terrain back into the house. Just as you hurry back in, your head hits against something hard making you bite back a scream of pain. Yoongi stands right across you, rubbing his forehead fast, much like you were.

While you are busy balancing the act of wincing in pain, shivering and finding the ability stop your teeth from chattering to apologize, Yoongi presses an intercom like device on the wall beside you.

“Grace, get two towels and a glass of hot water to the back entrance please.”

“I’m sorry.” You finally say, pointing at his forehead. “I didn’t see you…”

“It’s alright.” He stuffs his hands in his pocket. He’s wearing his signature all black attire.

“Are you…are you going out? In this rain.”

You carefully avoid adding the word ‘again’.

Over the last two days as you stood by the window of your room unsuccessfully battling your jet lag, you watched Yoongi leave as the sun sets only to return at the crack of dawn. Where he spent his nights, you had no idea. Why he spent them out of the house, you had no idea. Whatever the reason was, could it be important enough for him to go even in such a downpour?

“Yes, but its fine.” He stares at the heavy rain which obscured just about everything in sight. “I like getting wet in the rain anyways.”

Because of you.

“Yoongi.” You stand by the window, palm flat on the glass, feeling the coldness but aching to feel the waters. “Let’s go out in the rain-”

“No thanks.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Yoongi.” You drag your words hoping it will affect him.

“If you want to so badly, then you go.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

As you look at him over your shoulder Yoongi finally looks up from his notepad, a corner of his mouth pulled into a soft smile.

“Is that a yes?”

“No.” He walks up to you, sliding the glass pane. “I won’t go to the rain, but,” He sticks his hand out and you already know what he’s going to do. “I can bring the rain to you.” And just as you thought, he flicks the water in his hand at your face, even before you had the time to shield yourself with your hands.

“Yoongi!”

He laughs, taking quick steps away from you, thwarting two out of your three attempts of a mirrored attack.

“Don’t, you’ll wet the floor.” He wipes his face against the material of his shirt on his shoulder. “The rest of the band won’t be very happy with the mess.”

You stick your tongue out at him, splashing him once more, unbothered. Like the rest of the band would even say a word to you in front of Yoongi. Or even behind his back.

“Y/n, stop it-” He ducks, once, then twice, but you continue relentlessly anyways, laughing at his plight, till he suddenly walks up to you, grabbing you by the wrist. “I said, stop it.”

“Make me.” You smirk, holding him by the collar, pulling him closer.

“Hmm.” He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. “Let’s get you busy with something else then shall we?”

Your laugh melts into his kiss, as he leaves your hand and rests it below your cheek instead, your breaths mingling, hearts hammering against each other’s chest.

Breaking free just once, you whisper against his lips, “Sorry not sorry.” and tug him by his shirt, leaning back, out of the window and letting the rain drizzle over your entwined figures. Yoongi groans into your mouth but he doesn’t stop, the heat in your cheeks rising till the waters didn’t feel cold anymore.

“You don’t,” He sneaks in a small peck, grinning at you, the rain water dripping from the ends of his hair. “You don’t seem to hate the rain now.”

“Like this.” He kisses a cheek. “With you.” Then the other. “I don’t.”

You laugh again, like you always do with him, as he presses his lips onto yours once more.

From that day on, Yoongi was always by your side in the rain. Because he meant it. Yoongi had fallen in love with the rain because of you.

And even now, after so long, he still loved it.

The thought makes your heart ache in a strange way.

Why do you no longer walk together in the rain Yoongi?

“Oh dear sweetie, you’re all wet!” Grace, the sweet househelper who rushes to your every beck and call, waddles up to you, balancing a glass of steaming water in her hand and towels in the other, just like Yoongi asked. You take a towel from her, patting yourself dry as Yoongi gives her a hand with the glass, letting her tiptoe and rub the towel vigorously against your hair. “You’re going to catch a cold at this rate Y/n!”

You wince as the short woman gives up on her tiptoes to reach you and instead pulls you down, relentlessly continuing her attempts to dry you. The act almost makes Yoongi smile as he looks away.

“All your clothes are soaking wet! We need to change you out of them as soon as possible.” She grabs your arm with determination and almost pulls you along with her before a realization hits her, making her stop her tracks and blink fast. “I just put all your night clothes in the laundry though.”

“Oh -”

“This is a house of men moreover, there’s no decent clothing to even offer you….maybe Mrs. Min had some?”

The very thought of borrowing Yoongi’s wife’s belongings unexplainably disturbs you. You don’t want it. You don’t want anything that belongs to her. But before you can politely decline her offer, Yoongi speaks instead.

“Grace.” The hardness in his voice shocks you, making you turn to him. There’s not even a small trace of earlier humor in them, anger flashing instead. The same anger that you always feared would destroy him. “Know your limits.”

“I’m so sorry Sir.” She rambles fast, hiding her fear. “but she didn’t have-“

“Yoongi!” You instinctively cover your mouth in shock as the glass in his hand cracks with the pressure he’s exerting on it, the shards piercing through his skin, letting the crimson flow out. As Grace stands frozen, her face pale, her position rooted, you extend your hand to help him but he pulls back, letting the pieces drenched in his blood fall to the floor.

“Know. Your. Limits.” He growls, threat clear in his voice before he turns and leaves, figure getting smaller and smaller in the downpour, the trail of red seeping into the mud behind him the only visible thing.

24th February 2017 – present day.

That anger in Yoongi’s eyes, it didn’t allow you to sleep for nights. It bothered you over and over again, head hurting every time you thought about his condition. His whole world had collapsed. Yoongi must really love his wife.

You see it in his eyes, in the way he pines for her, in the way he’s lost, oscillating between bouts of extreme reactions – sometimes resorting to adverse reactions like that night, creating wounds that were still fresh in his palm and sometimes absolutely silent like he was every minute he spent in the station, tolerating all the injustice done to him. As you sat day after day in the police station watching how cases like a woman’s missing cat and small boy returning a lost dollar got more attention than his wife who was missing for 10 months now, you wondered how he didn’t react one bit, not with anger, not with disappointment, just sitting, stoic as ever.

It was one thing that Yoongi barely spoke in the first place but the when the topic was about his wife, he was more silent than usual. For a man who loved his wife to the extent where he was possessive about her simple materialistic belongings, for whom he was willing to reach out to his ex-girlfriend he had abandoned, for whom he spent over 10 months scouring despite being discouraged by everyone around him, Yoongi never once willingly spoke about his wife. Initially you thought it was because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but as time passed you realized it was more than that.

Sometimes it felt like the situation never favored the conversation and sometimes it felt Yoongi just didn’t want to talk about her. You are yet to find out which of these is the true answer.

19th February 2017

“I saw your family portraits.”

As you sit side by side with considerable gap between the both of you in the cab, you recollect your walk in the halls of the manor the previous night, when you came across something you had only heard Yoongi talk about it the past. Family portraits of the Min family, one for every year, taken every Christmas eve. As you walked from one end of the room to the other, keenly looking at each progressing picture, you noticed how as Yoongi grows older, his gummy smile shrinks smaller and smaller and smaller…. till the moment another woman sits in the place that should rightfully be his mother’s.

Then his smile completely vanishes.

“She wasn’t in any of them.”

If Yoongi got married two years ago, it was only logical to expect at least a photo or two of his wife but surprisingly the series of photos stops right before the year you deduce Yoongi got hitched.

“We stopped taking pictures after my father died.” He answers, still staring outside the window.

You want to believe him but a part of you had to admit that something didn’t add up. Because right after the last photo, lodged in the wall were two more nails that stood empty. It didn’t seem like the photos were not taken, it felt more like....the photos were taken down.

But just as you bring yourself to ask the question, Yoongi lowers the window, the sound of the wind drowning your question.

20th February 2017

“What’s her name?”

You poke the piece of meat on your plate, casually making conversation. With passing days Yoongi and you spoke more than a few lines over dinner.

“November.”

His answer surprises you. “H-her name is November?”

“Yeah,” He’s still staring at his food. “Everyone calls her Nona, I call her Nobi.”

“Nobi? Like Hobi?”

Shit.

You regret the question the moment it slips from your mouth, avoiding his eye, hoping he did not hear it.

“Yeah, Nobi, like Hobi.”

Why would you ask him that Y/n, why did you take his name?

“Hoseok’s fine, if that’s what you are thinking.” Yoongi drags his spoon through the potatoes. “He’s been out of town for a while now. He should be back in a few days.”

You swallow nothing uncertainly “Does he….”

“Still live here?” He nods. “He does. This is his house after all.”

“And you both?” You choose your words cautiously. “You’re….okay?”

“We have to be. No matter how much both of us try to deny it, end of the day,” He looks up at you with a sad smile. “We are brothers.”

“If she sheds even a tear because of you, Min Yoongi, I will come for your life.” Hoseok stands across you for the last time as Yoongi’s hand tightens around yours. “This, I promise you.”

After that you eat in silence, this time, letting the questions and answers drown in the quietness.

24th February 2017 – present day

The past half week you were constantly given half answers like this. The very Yoongi who answered even your unasked questions, for some reason had nothing much to say when you genuinely voiced your doubts. When he asked you to trust him with the bare little he told you, you were willing to, every bit of you was willing to. Because you knew him better than anyone. You knew the pain in his eyes was as raw and real as it could get.

But as days passed and the more you got involved, there was one thing you realized. Some things about Yoongi did not seem…..normal. It seemed like he was the same man and not at the same time. Just as you felt you knew him, the very next moment he turned unfamiliar. Certain things he did and said confused you more than you could explain. You didn’t expect him to give you answers and reasons for all his actions and decisions because you knew it was not in your place to ask him such questions anymore. That, though, did not stop you from silently wondering if Yoongi was not telling you the entire truth or worse………

He might have been lying all this while.

22nd February 2020

You’ve been thinking a lot these days. Sometimes lost in the memories of the past, sometimes lost in the orchestration of the future. You don’t know which exactly you were lost in when you stepped into the darkness of the West Wing. You are about half way down the corridor when you realize that you’re right in the middle of the one place you aren’t supposed to be at.

A strange feeling grips you, almost paralyzing your feet, not letting you take a step back or a step forward. Instead, a war erupts in your mind, a battle between your curiosity and fear. The curiosity to know why exactly no one was supposed to come here and the fear of finding out that reason. The reason that no one knew. The reason you had been wanting to know since the night you came here.

“I have no idea, Miss Y/n.”

“Just Y/n please.”

Grace gives a motherly smile before resuming her disapproving look in response to your question. Why is it that corridor so dark?

“When I joined a few months ago, I was told no one is allowed to step in there. Not to clean, not out of curiosity, never. Not for about a year now. According to the other staff, anyone who trespassed that area was immediately fired. After knowing that, I didn’t dare try to find out, I really need this job.”

Were her hands shaking?

“I am to take the responsibility of looking after you so please Y/n, don’t ever go there. I can’t imagine what master will do to me if he finds out.”

There’s so much fear in her eyes.

“I won’t.” You promise.

But here you are, though unknowingly, you still had broken that promise. And that’s what makes the decision for you.

Your fright, your inquisitiveness, none of that mattered. You didn’t want the consequences of your actions to hurt Grace. You had become way too attached to her and her little, parent-less, grand children who often ran around the backyard, your only source of comfort in this emptiness. You couldn’t imagine uprooting their whole lives because of one selfish decision.

So, you turn around.

Even though you want to know why Yoongi was so particular about sealing off this place, why these shadows were so carefully guarded and what was being hidden here, you subdue it all and walk out, into the otherwise well-lit house.

Or at least you wish you did.

Because as you walk towards your room, you can feel your breath hitching, your pace quickening, stomach turning in the most uncomfortable way. The moment you reach your room you shut the door behind you, back against it, chest heaving. As you look at the woman in the mirror before you, she’s shivering.

Because you saw something.

You should be feeling shame, that despite convincing yourself to walk away and not feed your inquisitiveness, you did stop for a brief second, just one second.

Instead you are afraid.

Because even though a second is not long, it was enough to look past the half open door and right into the room you had stopped your tracks next to. Yoongi’s room.

You didn’t want to admit it to even yourself but maybe, just maybe you had found out why the West wing was forbidden.

24th February 2017 – present day

Your eyes fly open when the scene that you are trying not to remember flashes before your eyes.

You can feel the pain in your neck as you roll it back, stretching the muscle.

“Awake?”

You freeze hearing his voice, realizing from his proximity and your position that all this while you had been fast asleep on his shoulder.

“Sorry.” You quickly straighten yourself and scoot to the side.

“I keep telling you to stay at home, at least till your jet lag gets better.”

“It’s alright.” You insist. “I….I need water.”

And to get away from you.

You get up before he even has the chance to nod in response and make your away across the station, heart beating fast in your rib-cage. Holding the paper cup under the tap you watch it fill up with water, refusing for the hundredth time today to remember the details of that room.

The unaddressed chaos. Broken glass on the floor, wilted flowers petals flying around, pillows torn up everywhere, sheets haphazard.

You quickly gulp the water as though it will wash down the memory the scene, instead you remember the details much better.

There were red stains on the carpet, about three to four blotches, right beside the stained glass.

Blood.

It was blood.

Someone got injured the day this happened.

“11th April 2016.”

You whisper under your breath, recalling once more, the date on the tear off calendar by the bed.

That date…. The date Yoongi mentioned his wife disappeared. He said they argued the day she left the house. If the West Wing had been uninhabited for about a year now, was that mess a result of that argument? Did it spiral into some kind of fight?

Though Yoongi said it was a trivial matter.

Or was he not telling the truth about what happened that night?

“Look at him, he has the face of a liar.”

Your ears perk, catching the sound of a conversation on the nearby desk.

“Cut him some slack, the man’s looking for his lost wife.”

“By publicly getting cosy with his ex-girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend?”

“Mhmm, that one there.” Without looking, you guess the owner of the voice is pointing at your back. “I heard she was his plaything back in his college days.” Plaything? You feel your fists ball in anger. “He left her because she wanted more.”

“Christ, and she’s here despite all that?” A mocking laughter. “What is it for, the money?”

Money? Before your family’s net worth, the Mins were as good as beggars.

“That or she’s a cock hungry bitch. A perfect match, if you ask me, because that Min Yoongi is no less than a dog. The man’s an absolute animal. Do you how many times he was in the custody of this very police station for physical assault and public brawls? Men like him don’t know how to love.”

Men like him don’t know how to love?

“For all we know he might have been the one who did away with his wife-”

You’ve heard enough.

Turning around, you walk up to the two officers, slamming your hand on the table, looking at them straight in the eye.

“Get up.”

They blink at you stupidly, fueling your annoyance, making you snarl. “I said get. Up.”

You cross your arms as the two men unwillingly stand, slight fear decorating their faces.

“The last time I checked this was a police station, not the court of law. I’m sorry I have to teach you your job but it’s not to sit there and pass judgments, it’s to ensure that the city and the lives of its residents are problem free.”

It gets more and more silent as all eyes turn towards you.

“Obviously, you’ve already failed at that because there’s a woman missing for about a year now and your department hasn’t done crap to find her. I’ve been watching what’s going on and what kind of cases are getting the priority. A woman lost her cat? that’s what’s important? Are you fucki-” You stop yourself, reminding yourself of your limits. “-bloody kidding me?”

You can see Yoongi approaching you from the corner of your eye and force yourself to calm down. You didn’t need him getting involved in this.

“Instead of sitting there and discussing such worthless, irrelevant issues, go and get your officer.” You lower your voice, making the threat in it clear. “Don’t make the mistake of taking my silence or compliance as a weakness. Because I swear, if your officer doesn’t stand before me within five minutes, mark my words, I will do whatever it takes to make sure this police station disappears from the map of Seoul. Am I clear?

“Fierce.”

You turn around at the voice to a man leaning against the door of a cabin. Jeon Jungkook, his badge reads. So this is the asshole. “I didn’t take you to be such a woman.”

“Officer Jeon.” You feel Yoongi right behind you. “I’ve been-”

“Min Yoongi.” His voice sounds like it disgusts him to take his name. “I told you, I told you a hundred times now, don’t come to me till you’ve got your documents.”

“It’s not that easy Jungkook, I’ve been trying for so long-”

“Try harder.” He shrugs. “In fact you should be trying there, not here. With me, you’re just wasting time.” And with that he walks away, leaving you in utter confusion.

What documents? Why didn’t Yoongi mention he needed those to meet Jungkook? Why did you waste five days in the police station without them when as Jungkook said, you should have been trying for them?

You turn to Yoongi but he’s looking elsewhere, the same pained expression on this face. The expression that tells you that once again you are going to get half answers. You didn’t want them anymore.

“Stop.”

You walk up to Jungkook who surprisingly obeys and halts, turning around.

“What documents are you talking about?”

His eyebrows raise and he leans to the side, looking at Yoongi over your shoulder.

“Eyes here.” You snap your fingers, getting his attention. “I’m the one standing before you, so look at me and answer me. You have no reason to look there.”

He purses his lips, almost as though he liked your guts. “And who are you?”

“Y/n.”

“And what relationship do you share with Min Yoongi?”

“I don’t see how it concerns you.”

“You are standing here, talking for him.” Jungkook cocks his head to the side. “I am required to know who you are.”

You take longer than it should to answer.

“A friend.”

“Is that right? Then how is it that I haven’t seen you coming to his rescue in the last one year?”

You swallow, unnecessarily clearing your throat.

“W-we knew each other in college and…...we lost contact after that.”

“When did you get back in contact?” You sigh, ready to fire at him for his meaningless questions but Jungkook doesn’t give you the chance. “I need answers if you want answers Ms.Y/n.”

You stare him down. “About a week ago.”

“And where do you stay?”

“In the Min Manor, as a guest.”

“I see” Jungkook nods his head slowly, sitting down on the table behind, dangling his leg. “So you’re not really close friends yet you stay in his house. You haven’t met each other in years yet he reaches out to you a week ago and you’re here, willing to pick a fight with the representatives of the law- don’t roll your eyes at me Ms.Y/n, the things you’ve told me don’t add up, I feel like there’s something else about the two of you that you’re not telling me.”

“I’ve told you what you need to know,” You speak between gritted teeth. Why did people care about the relationship you share with Yoongi? “Beyond that is unnecessary and irrelevant.”

“Ok, then let’s talk about relevant things, shall we?” He crosses his arm, finally meaning business. “What did he tell you Ms.Y/n, to make you stand here before me? To help him? To trust him? But let me ask you Ms.Y/n,” Your lips part in shock as Jungkook asks you the one question you refused to ask yourself. “What makes you think you can trust him?”

#btswriterscollective #btsguild #btsbokclub #bangtanarmynet #yoongi angst #yoongi thriller #yoongi mystery #bts ot7 angst #bts ot7 thriller #bts ot7 mystery #bts ot7 #Yoongi x reader #bts x reader

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ineffablewordsatnight · 5 years ago

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The emperor’s pet (Loki x Reader) Chapter 8

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Fluff and Smut

P.O.V. Loki

After you finished your shower, you exited the bathroom quietly, closing the door behind you as slowly and stealthy as you could. You quickly climbed back into his bed, glancing only for a brief moment at his relaxed features, assuming that he was already asleep.

What you didn’t know was, that Loki was laying there with his heart pounding in his chest, his fingers twitching, urging him to finally touch you, to reward you for your obedience, but he controlled himself. He had set the rules himself after all.

You were clearly still flushed and possibly aroused, he could feel your hot skin pressing against his, but you didn’t do anything other than cuddling up to him.

Loki carefully nuzzled closer himself, wanting to touch as much of your body as possible and inhaled your enchanting scent. You had used a jasmine scented oil on your skin and the outcome smelled heavenly while also making your skin soft to the touch.

He couldn’t help himself, but slowly traced circles along your smooth thighs, which sent shivers down your whole being. You shuffled around a bit, trying to get comfortable and Loki snickered in his mind, deciding to not tease you any further and let you rest.

Soon after his tantalizing touch stopped, you fell into a deep slumber, unconsciously moving closer to him yet again and wrapping him up in your whole being.

Loki audibly sighted. He was growing impatient with you. You were so clearly attracted to him, as he was to you, but you just didn’t act on your urges.

He had tried everything, creating those dreams. His first visit was just a way of teasing you, a way to find out more about your whole personality, which often was vulnerable and more open minded during the sleeping and dreaming phase…but then he grew more curious. The second time, he entered your dreams was just to overpower you, to see how you would react to his more dominant side and after that happened and he saw your easy submission, he made sure that you didn’t have any memories of the following dreams.

He visited you again and again, fucked you again and again in every possible scenario, but he wouldn’t let you come. He had to follow his own rules after all.

His goal was clear; he wanted to break you, to destroy all your morals and form you into a mindless, obedient pet. He wanted to find your core, he wanted to see what you really were made off. You had to be evil after all, there was no perfect mortal, no one that was good.

But what did he find instead?

After breaking down all your inner walls, after going so deep into your subconsciousness that he found your deepest secrets and desires, he found nothing evil at all.

Instead he found his counterpart, his other half; broken and depressed just like he was, and you became his sanctuary, his salvation.

Even without you actively noticing it, you had been the fix point in his life and all the small gestures of kindness that you offered him only deepened this feeling.

Loki chuckled lowly, what a fool he had become; fallen for some human girl.

But it didn’t matter, should the whole court laugh about him and his decisions. He would gladly punish those, who even dared to look at you in a way that didn’t suit him.

Mother, I must have lost it. The only thing on my mind is her.

He snickered again, burying his nose in your hair and pulling you closer to him. Your small frame stirred beneath him and quickly he placed his hand on your forehead, letting the threads of his magic appear and sent you back into your dreamscape.

He pulled away from you slightly and looked down at your softened features. In your sleep, when nothing worried you and your face was completely relaxed, you looked even more innocent than on other occasions.

To know to what scandalous acts he could bring you only fuelled the fire threatening to burn him alive. What would he give to feel your utter submission in the real world, to feel your heavenly body pressed against his as he brought you to ecstasy.

Loki sighted, he could feel his hardening length pressing up against you, you had turned around and now your behind was pressing firmly against him. It didn’t help either that you had unconsciously began to rub yourself against him, only making him harder in the process.

He tightened his grip on you, holding you firmly pressed against his body and allowed himself one role of his hips against yours, he groaned; this felt too good.

Then he slowly separated himself from you and climbed out of the bed, making sure that you were still covered in the warm, fuzzy blankets.

After tugging you in safely, he snapped his fingers. His magic swirled around his form, shifting his clothes until he wore soft training gear. Some dark brown pants, brown boots, a green tunic and a breast plate made out of stiffened leather decorated the god. Two daggers appeared on a belt on his hip and he silently slipped out of his chambers, not daring to look back at you. He felt that he would loose himself, if he saw your small form curled up in his bed again.

Loki closed the door after his departure and leaned down against it, he sighted softly, tilting his head back until it fell against the dark wood with a low thud.

What have you done to him?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he began to walk down towards the training area. Because it was late at night, no one was there and he didn’t feel like waking up some guards, so he conjured up a few doppelgangers of himself to train with him.

He twirled his daggers around and charged.

For a short amount of time, he was able to distract himself, but his thoughts kept wandering back to you. He thought about your whole being, your actions, your wishes; about everything.

What were you doing to him? What were you feeling? Why didn’t you act on your feelings?

He heaved out a frustrated sigh, he couldn’t concentrate on training anymore and it was getting rather late. Loki snapped his fingers and his doppelgangers disappeared.

Slowly, he made his way back to his chambers, but instead of going back to bed with you, he entered the library. Choosing a book to read, he sat down in front of a window and watched the stars wander over the dark sky.

He couldn’t face you right now.

P.O.V. (Y/n) – the next day

You woke up from a dreamless slumber, missing the warmth of Loki next to you, but you could have sworn, that you had heard Loki’s voice and felt his touch upon your skin.

Stretching your arms over your had, you rose from the bed, still slightly disoriented, and looked around. No sight of the Norse god.

You were confused but paid it no mind as you stood up and went to the bathroom to refresh yourself.

After doing so, you re-entered the bed chamber, still only dressed in a towel after the much needed shower, and found another dress lying ready for you to wear on the bed.

You unconsciously smiled to yourself. It had become a normal and daily reoccurrence for you that Loki would choose for you what to wear and you didn’t mind the random appearing clothes anymore.

The dress was beautiful, it was a dark green, multi-layered gown made of a light, flowy material which shimmered in the early sunlight. Next to it was a leathern breast plate with an attached shoulder piece. It was decorated with patterns which faintly reminded you of Loki’s magic and you realized that it was an Asgardian gown, fit for royalty itself.

You were astonished by this fact. Why would he hand such a beautiful and precious dress to you?

Still, you didn’t think too much about it and put the whole thing on.

It took you some time to figure out the different straps of the armour piece, but after a few minutes of fiddling, you succeeded in putting it on.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and froze.

The dress fitted you perfectly, the different layers flowing around your body and accentuating the shape of your body.

The tone of the dress was beautiful; the green reminded you of the woods and pure nature and in between the green threads, there were golden threads embedded, which gave the whole fabric a certain movement and shimmer. The piece of armour complemented the whole assemble wonderfully.

And as a last piece, you put on the golden collar.

Satisfied with your whole appearance, you smoothed out the fabric, amazed by the fluent movement and the structure of the fabric. It was cool and flowed trough your hands like water, shimmering in the light.

Giggling to yourself you swished the fabric around and shifted yourself around to get a good look.

P.O.V. Loki

As he entered his chambers to search for you, Loki stopped dead in his tracks.

You were standing in front of the huge mirror, clad like a true goddess…like his queen.

Turning around to him and giving your robes a good twirl, which send them in a flying frenzy of green and gold, you stared up at him; a huge smile on your face.

He was speechless.

You looked even more beautiful than he imagined it, when he chose the dress for today. And the collar…the symbol of his ownership…no, the symbol of your bound for eternity.

He shuddered, chills running up and down his spine.

P.O.V. (Y/n)

Loki was still just standing there and watching you. Rooted to one spot since he stormed in mere seconds ago. You could feel a blush crawling up your neck, heating up your face.

Why was he staring at you like that?

Your own gaze dropped down to the floor and you shifted shyly in your spot.

This seemed to awaken the Norse god and he took a few steps towards you, only halting his movements when he stood right in front of you.

“You are awake, and you already dressed up. I was just…” He trailed off, lost yet again in the sight of your smooth skin and seemingly glowing features.

You sneaked a glance up at him. There was something in his eyes…was that…admiration? He was looking at you in awe, or so it seemed.

What is that in his eyes? It almost seemed like…love?

No, that’s impossible. Even if you felt like that, he would never return your feelings.

Or would he?

You weren’t sure anymore.

While you were lost in your thoughts, Loki had caught himself again.

“I left earlier the night to train…and then I read in the library.”

“I see.”

You nodded and fiddled with the upper layer of your dress.

Loki observed your movement for a few moments and bit his lip.

“Do you…” He trailed off, suddenly looking unsure.

“Do you maybe want to go out and visit the palace’s gardens with me?”

He wasn’t looking in your direction but was seemingly more interested in a spot on his clothes.

Your head shot up, surprise clearly written over your face. He never suggested anything like this before and his tone also sounded more soft and sincere than ever.

The only room you had visited so far or have been allowed to, besides his chambers, was the throne room.

Excitement flooded your veins and you stepped forward, grabbing his hand and beamed up at him.

“I would love that.”

Your burst of excitement caused the god to snap his head towards you and shot you a questioning glance, but when your own expression didn’t falter, a sincere smile stretched across his own face.

Without another word, he tightened his grip on your hand and led you out of the room.

After wandering through several corridors, he opened a small wooden door, which led outside. Suddenly the both of you were standing in between a bunch of different coloured flowers.

Your senses were bombarded by many different smells and colours and you excitedly took some steps forward, turning around to seek confirmation for your future actions from Loki.

He smiled encouragingly and nodded towards you.

You squeaked, turned around again and made your way deeper into the gardens with Loki hot on your heels.

The gardens were amazing. There were so many plants that you didn’t recognize, and they all seemed to glow and were coloured in far more tones than you were familiar with from the ones on earth.

You explored all day, streaking through fields of flowers, labyrinths of solid hedges and small forests consisting of exotic plants.

P.O.V. Loki

Taking you outside and visiting the Asgardian gardens with you was the best idea he ever had.

A smile was constantly edged on your face and your gaze moved excitedly from one foreign plant to another.

The Norse god chuckled in amusement when you started to chase a butterfly that was as big as your hand and coloured in soft shades of blue.

As the sound reached your ears, you spun around, facing him and pouted at the god.

His laughter stopped immediately, which sent a triumphant smile over your face.

Little did you know, that Loki had a hard time keeping it together, forcing himself to be rooted to one spot.

How could you be so cute. If you kept acting like that you were going to drive him insane.

You were acting so cute and innocent, your eyes sparkling with joy and wonder.

After striving through the gardens for some time, you arrived in a field of flowers and Loki used his magic to make a blanket and a basket full of food appear.

You smiled at him.

“You organized a picnic.”

He blushed but nodded, feeling his heart leap in his chest as your smile hit him. Ignoring the feeling, Loki sat down and gestured for you to do the same.

You mimicked his movement and organized your gown, moving it so it was splayed out all around your body.

While you got comfortable, Loki unpacked the food from the small basket.

Letting his gaze sweep back towards you, he nearly had another heart attack. You held your face towards the sun, the soft beams of light illuminated your features, tinting you in a gleaming yellow light. At this moment you truly looked like the incarnation of beauty itself.

By Odin! Don’t get all poetic and sappy now.

Ignoring you for the sake of his sanity, Loki opened a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses and handed one to you.

With a softly muttered thanks and a smile, you accepted it and let the rich liquid trickle down your throat.

Time skip to the evening

After your adventures that day, you were back in Loki’s chambers, already laying down in his spacious bed.

The Norse god was reading, while you were already asleep, snuggled close to him and wrapped around his body.

You had been sleeping for quite some time now and Loki was getting ready to join you in your dreamscape but was startled by you starting to roll over and tossing around next to him.

First, he was annoyed, because he was tired as well and just wanted to go to sleep, but soon grew anxious, thinking that you might have another nightmare.

He contemplated with himself for a second if he should just invade your privacy…

You already did that countless times, it wouldn’t matter if you do it one more time.

Convinced by himself he decided that he would rather face your wrath than let you suffer right next to him without doing something.

Crucial in his decision was the fact that you were whimpering his name and Loki couldn’t just resist your sweet call.

He gently touched your forehead and was instantly teleported into your dream. He expected everything to be black and white, blood scattered across the floor and you weeping in a corner, but to his surprise he came face to face with a beautiful scene in the middle of a forest. Large trees surrounded a small clearing, which was spotted with the most beautiful sorts of flowers he had ever seen. A petty pond was situated in the background and next to it a blanket.

But what stunned him the most were the two figures lying there. It was you…and him. And his dream-self was hovering over your smaller form like a lover normally would. He was kissing down your neck and noticed that one hand had disappeared between your robes and judging by your moans, he knew exactly what his double was doing.

Quite frankly, he was shocked; rooted to his place, he didn’t dare to move.

He didn’t…he didn’t conjure this dream. This must be your doing.

Slowly a big toothy grin was forming on his face.

This was just perfect.

P.O.V. Reader

You were pretty sure you were dreaming again. One second you were cuddling next to the god of mischief and in the next moment you were wandering around in a beautiful garden. You kept strolling through the exotic plants until they became small trees, which then became larger and larger and suddenly you found yourself in a clearing with a beautiful pond in the middle of it.

A huge tree with deep red leaves was growing right next to the small lake and a plaid blanket was laid down beneath the low dipping branches. Fruits, bread and cheese were laid out on some plates and two glasses filled with wine framed the calming scene.

You glanced around, but no one was in sight, so you just sat down on a cushion.

What is this? Is this Loki’s doing? But it feels different…could this be just a normal dream? But why were you aware that this WAS a dream?

You were confused.

But it had to be a dream. The colours of everything seemed too intense, they faded and came together again while everything was glazed over with a hazy shimmer and you couldn’t really concentrate on anything longer than a few seconds.

Suddenly remembering something, you glanced down at your body and found yourself wearing the same dress that Loki had given to you earlier this day. As your eyes travelled up again, you detected a tall figure stepping out from behind the tree.

It was Loki and he was clad in a long black robe, the material similar to the one from your dress with silver linings and decorations.

This was a new colour on him.

It suited him.

“Well hello there, princess.” He stepped closer to you, standing right in front of you, so you had to crane your neck to be able to look him into his eyes. Loki tilted his head. “What brings you here to this place? Alone, so deep in the woods?”

A cheshire grin overtook his features and he slightly bend down to you.

You on the other hand could only stare at him. Your mind was fuzzy, and you could only stare at the god in front of you.

He straightened his posture again, still wearing the large grin.

“Cat got your tongue?”

The god smirked down at your seated form and you immediately curled into yourself, embarrassed by your actions, or the lack thereof.

You heard a deep chuckle from above you, which sent shivers down your whole body, concentrating itself between your thighs.

You unconsciously rubbed your legs together and didn’t notice the darkened gaze from the god above you as you timidly gestured to the other cushion on the opposite of you.

“Please, sit down and dine with me.”

You had gathered your thoughts and smiled at Loki.

He immediately followed your request and popped a ripe grape into his mouth. You watched his lips close around the sweet fruit and sucking it into his mouth. You shuddered again in delight this time, remembering what he had felt like, when he used his mouth on you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Loki put another grape into his mouth and leaned over to you, pushing the cold fruit against your closed lips. Instinctively you opened them and bit down, the rich and sweet taste flooding all your senses.

You had closed your eyes and as you opened them again, you noticed that Loki was still hovering close to you.

You saw his lidded eyes and noticed his heavy breathing, your gaze flickering from his green orbs to his plush lips and back up again. As you reconnected your eyes, you found his even darker, leaving you alone to drown in a dark pool of lust.

Before you could do or say anything else, you found yourself pinned to the ground, Loki towering dark and intimidating above you.

You could just stare up at him, until your hand rose on its own accord till you were able to trace over his face, from his temple down to his lips where it lingered and traced its shape.

Loki took your small hand into his own, lifting it closer to his lips and pressed soft kisses down on your palm, moving down to your wrist.

The light touches sent butterflies raging in your stomach and you blushed, turning your head to the side, only peaking back at Loki when he stilled his movements.

The hungry gaze that met your eyes sent you spiralling down into another abyss. He would certainly be your downfall.

The Norse god was now kneeling between your legs and one hand sneaked slowly up your thigh until his fingers were tracing the hem of your panties. His deep green eyes watched your every expression and every twitch of your muscles. He seemed amused and entranced at the same time.

After studying your writhing form for another torturous moments, he finally leaned down and his soft lips met yours, both moving together like a well-known dance.

Your eyes fluttered close, only to open wide again the second you felt cold air hitting your dripping centre. The god smirked at you, he must have used his magic to discard your panties so easily.

Scooting down, he was now kneeling between your legs, but he didn’t move, he just stared hungrily at your dripping pussy.

Squirming beneath his heated gaze, you whimpered slightly.

“Loki, please.”

His eyes travelled back up to your face.

“Patience my dear.” He just chuckled.

The whine that tore from you quickly turned into a startled gasp as the god idly traced your lower lips with two fingers. He deliberately avoided your bundle of nerves and you could feel your frustration growing. The measured movements of his deft fingers were driving you crazy, turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t take his teasing any longer.

“Please…please. Touch me properly, my king.”

You could hear a sharp intake of breath and before you could raise your head to observe the god, he pushed two fingers in your wet entrance, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

Both of you groaned.

“You are dripping, princess. You’re already so wet.” You could hear his grin. “Is all of this for me?”

The only answer you managed was a high pitched keen, which ripped a dark chuckle from the god’s throat.

“That’s right, princess. This is all for me. So just lean back and enjoy.”

And with that you could feel his tongue circle your clit, before he closed his lips around your enlarged bud and sucked hard.

Your mind went blank and a broken moan escaped your lips. Pleasure caused through your veins, making your toes curl and your causing your whole body to shudder.

His movements were slow, but deep, hitting spots deep inside you that only amplified the pleasure you were already experiencing.

His fingers combined with your tongue, his talented silver tongue, had you spiralling towards an orgasm in no time.

Loki’s pace quickened as he felt your walls tightened around your fingers, his other hand coming up to your hips and pressing you down, so he had complete control over your movements.

You were slowly losing your mind, the knot in your stomach was tightening and you felt your orgasm creeping closer and closer.

You raised your head and you locked eyes with Loki, but not with the Loki kneeling between your legs, but a Loki standing at the edge of the woods, who smirked satisfied at your astonished form.

You squealed, a high-pitched sound escaping your mouth and shot up. Suddenly, you were sitting upright in a bed, an amused Norse god right next to you.

“Well, that was quite the interesting dream you had there, my pet.” He snickered.

Groaning deeply, you rolled around and hid your face in the soft pillows. You were still in a haze, the dream, the pleasure, Loki. All of it blurred together in a whirlwind of emotions, you could just feel.

The man next to you moved closer until he was whispering in your ear.

“And all of it on your own.” He purred. “I didn’t have to move a single finger.”

Hot embarrassment shot through your veins, but there was also a dull ache between your legs. It had been so fucking long since you last came, and the constant throb of your clit was starting to make you really agitated.

You could practically feel the wetness between your legs. It soaked your panties and you even felt it stick to your thighs.

You groaned, the urge to come grew constantly and you slowly moved your hips to relieve the ache at least a little bit. It didn’t help.

You could always ask him.

No, you cannot do that. It would seal your fate.

But it felt so right, being with him felt so right.

“Princess…” Loki was talking to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to concentrate on his voice and as he trailed a hand from your neck down your spine, a jolt of pleasure jumped through you.

Fuck it.

You want this…you need this. You need him.

“Loki.” You moaned.

You could feel him stiffen next to you, his hand retracting from your back, but continued without missing a breath.

“Please.” You whimpered. “Please touch me, my king. Please, I beg you.”

Even in your ears your voice sounded pathetic, weak and breathless, but you didn’t care, you needed this. “I want to feel you…here…in the real world.”

You pushed yourself up and turned around, looking straight into the god’s eyes.

“Please Loki.”

He was silent for a moment. Then you heard a low chuckle.

“Finally. Fucking finally. My princess…my queen. Your wish shall be my command.”

He stared down at you, his eyes full of admiration and love.

Then he bent down and kissed you, soft and slow.

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#Loki x Reader #Readerinsert #fanfiction #Loki #Loki Imagine #Loki x You #Marvel #Loki Odinson #Marvel Fanfiction #Avengers #Avengers Fanfiction #Avengers Au

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speedybooksandcreativeheaven · 6 years ago

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Chapter 5

Story Summary: Kayla and her sister Mika Anderson live with 5 demons. What Kayla doesn’t know that Mika is a demon who is trying to run away from a pained past. Tensions run high as James is trying to impress Kayla while Erik is being no help at all.

Chapter Summary: Kayla finds out about Mika’s and James relationship

Ships: OrginalFemaleCharacter (Kayla x James), (Kayla x Erik), Unwanted (Mika x James)

Word Count: 1186

Warnings: none really, still some swears

Author’s Notes: I don’t have a title for this story. Give me names in the comments! All Seduce me Characters belong to Michaela Laws

*Be prepared for feels people*

Mika’s POV

The next day I sat in my normal school cafeteria with my friends as I ate leftovers from dinner that Erik made. I smile to myself as I remember his touch on my hips. The magic felt like fire when I unleashed it, I remember feeling very powerful, and this magic overpowered an incubi’s enthrallment. I heard my friends talking as. an announcement was coming on the speaker, students usually don’t listen, but it made me snap back into reality.

“Can Mika Anderson come to the principal’s office.”

My friends looked at me as I packed my things and walked towards the office. I was not prepared for what I saw when I walked in. I saw Lilith half dressed in her demon form as the principal was not seen in the room. I rushed over to Lilith, pissed that she found me.

“What the hell is your problem!” I shouted at the demon, “Don’t you know that I have a reputation here!”

She smirked, as she twirled me towards the desk in the room,

“My child, I said that we would meet again didn’t I.” “I saw your actions in the kitchen last night, good job.”

She clapped her hands together impressed at my work. I smirked back, “So I used your powers big whoop. What are you doing here?”

“I came, my child. To give you a gift. I’m giving you a little boost to my power; however, I need James’s blood.”

“What’s this boost?’ I asked as I leaned against the desk, “I thought you gave me everything of your power!” I yelled at her clearly pissed

“Well,” she circled around the desk, “I gave you my power from a demon to a ‘human’ I need the blood of the heir to complete the transaction.”

“Fine,” I snarked back, “after this, no more secrets, I have a deadline to catch.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Lilith seemed amused, “You need to hide your true identity, right Orinanya? The second daughter to the throne.”

I stared wide-eyed at her, how the hell does she knows my true name! I retaliated with anger as I leaped off the desk as I summoned my own magic. I formed a sharp dagger in my hand as I ran towards her. I had Lilith pinned to the back of the principal’s door.

“How do you know my name?!” I snarled as I held the dagger to her throat.

She didn’t answer me as she grinned and disappeared. I used my magic to put the dagger back as I walked out of the office. Now to go get some blood.

TIME SKIP

James POV

I was reading over Kayla’s homework as I was waiting for her to come back with the snacks. I nodded to myself as these questions would be easy for a demon prince to answer. I heard footsteps approaching the door and I knew it wasn’t Kayla as I know she steps light. I stood up from the chair and I prepared my magic expecting the worst. They busted in the door as I saw two figures in a black suit, they threw green smoke around my feet which made me gag. I tried my best to fight back but my magic wouldn’t work. They had me on my knees beaten and badly bruised. One of the figures pricked my finger that was stored in a familiar amulet. When they were distracted with the amulet that is when I acted and took off a mask. What I saw stopped me in my tracks.

“Mika, what are you doing?” I stammered as I stood up, I looked ahead and saw the other figure got away. She didn’t answer me as she leaned forward and kissed me her arms went around my neck. I was shocked as I imagined my first kiss with Kayla. I couldn’t move as my mind didn’t want this, but my body was telling me something else. I sensed a different type of magic around the room and my demon urges started to rise. I couldn’t control them anymore as I took control. I grabbed her and backed her up towards the desk, I heard a thud as I felt the end of the table She had her legs around me as I leaned in closer towards her. I broke our contact to leave hot wet kisses trailing down her neck.

What brought me back was when I heard broken glass on the floor.

“James, how could you!!” I heard Kayla shriek. I pulled away as soon as I saw her face. I could tell that she was upset as I saw fresh tears. I was dazed as I remember what I just did, I felt ashamed and taken advantage of. How will Kayla ever forgive me? How will I ever forgive myself? My brother, Erik ran into the room with a concerned look on his face.

Kayla’s POV

“James, how could you,” I begin to panic as I saw James kissing my sister. I dropped a plate of cookies that I promised James I’d bring to the office. I couldn’t think or breath as I stood there with tears starting to fall. As the pair separated, I saw that James couldn’t even look towards me. I saw Mika put on a red amulet that has been passed down for ages in my family, soon enough I saw Erik running in the room as he heard my sheik.

“Princess, what happened?!” Erik was the first one to respond. His eyes were a loving shade of purple that I can get lost in. He threw open his arms toward me. I couldn’t talk as the tears landed on my checks as I embraced Erik. This couldn’t be happening, I love James with all my heart, but I guess I was wrong. I shuddered as Erik held me and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. As he was holding me he gave a dirty look towards his brother.

I was taken out of Erik’s embrace when James cleared his throat and spoke calm and collective,

“Guys, nothing is wrong, can’t you see that I’m having some fun over here with my girlfriend.”

Erik heard a dynamic shift in his voice as he knew this was not his brother. He threw his arms around Mika as she leaned towards his touch. I let go of Erik, as I took a deep breath in as I stormed over to where James was standing.

I couldn’t stop crying as I wanted to tell him how I felt, “One day you’re going to remember me and how much I loved you… then you’re going to hate yourself for letting me go.”

I picked up a shard of glass that fell and threw it at him, which scrapped his shirt. James’s eyes were wide as he heard my confession. I turned around with the dried tears that stained my face and ran into the garden. I heard Erik’s voice behind me and the others that joined him, but I kept running until I couldn’t anymore and dropped to my knees sobbing.

#Seduce me

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plutoandpolaris · 7 years ago

Text

Absentia

Guess who took 3 months to finish this fic even though its only part 1 of 3? I did, because I have the work ethic of a piece of lettuce. Granted, this is the longest fic I've ever written, beating out Martyr’s 6,000 words with 7,500. I’m satisfied with the outcome at least.

The morning was brisk and cold, a chill wind seeping through the crack in Jackieboy Man’s window. Curling into a ball, he pulled the covers back over his head. He didn’t want to get up, to face another day acting like he was over it, that everything was fine. The others had accepted the doctor’s death and moved on, but he hadn’t. That’s exactly what Anti wanted them to do and Jackie was not going to give that scumbag the satisfaction.

Eventually, he managed to get up and dressed. It wasn’t in his costume though, he hadn’t worn it since the doctor disappeared. That suit was for a hero, and Jackie hadn’t felt like one since. If he really was one, he reminded himself, Schneeplestien would still be here.

He didn’t even bother to brush his hair, instead opting to shove it all inside a beanie instead. He looked just like how he felt: absolutely fucking awful.

At the very least, the smell of breakfast still lifted his spirits. Marvin had taken the role of head cook of the house and Jackie had to admit, the guy was good. Almost supernaturally good, but that was probably because Marvin used magic in most of his recipes.

The man himself was seated on a stool next to the stove, making sure the pancakes didn’t burn. He didn’t look much better than Jackie. Ever since the doctor’s disappearance, Marvin had been using magic, specifically dark magic, to try and find out more about Anti and his possible weaknesses. They’d all seen him slowly deteriorate the more he used it, but no one could convince him to stop.

JJ was seated nearby at the kitchen table, head buried in the newspaper. He gave Jackie a passing glance but nothing more.

All the talk of Anti recently had him spooked, the others could tell by the way he secluded himself in his room or in the study and refused to come out, even for meals. Seeing him out and about had become a rarity.

“Morning,” Marvin called to Jackieboy, not taking his eyes off of the pancakes.

Jackie took a seat on the couch next to Chase, who was absentmindedly fiddling with the little photos on his keyring.

“What kind of pancakes are those?” Jackie turned back to Marvin, who was transferring them onto a plate.

“Blueberry. I had leftover mix.”

The room quieted again, and Jackie sighed. He didn’t want to bring this up, but it’s the only way he could get Marvin to even talk to him.

“How’s the search? You find anything?”

Marvin put down the plate very slowly, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“Nothing of note. It's like Anti’s completely off the map, I can't find anything.”

Marvin sighed, wincing as he carefully lowered himself down off of his stool.

“So what exactly are you even looking for?” Chase turned, tossing his key ring down on the coffee table.

“A name, an age, anything really, but especially weaknesses. I know he has them, and if we know what his weaknesses are, then we’ll be one step closer to killing him once and for all.

He took a bite of his pancakes.

“However, he's covered his tracks very well. I've searched hundreds of ancient books, I've scoured alternate dimensions for fucks sake, but there's nothing to find. It's ridiculous.”

The more Jackie studied Marvin’s face the worse it looked. His skin was pale, so much so you could see the veins weaving their their way under his skin like fissures in a broken mirror. His eyes were sunken and pale, the bright cerulean faded into a stormy gray. Bloodied bandages covered his arms and hands, evidence of hundreds of spells gone wrong, but they were no closer to finding anything about Anti. It was like a sick joke.

“I am going to find him, and when I do, I am going to rip him limb from limb myself,” Marvin threatened, voice low and angry. Small flickers of light danced between his fingertips, gone as soon as they’d appeared.

Marvin could be absolutely terrifying when he wanted to be, but Jackie and Chase had been more worried than anything else. One of the biggest symptoms of black magic is a condition known as Night Sickness, an affliction that can kill if left unmonitored, one of the biggest early symptoms being sudden aggression and exhaustion.

“Uh, Marv? Have you taken your meds today?” Chase asked, slightly inching away to the other side of the couch.

The only cure for Night Sickness is pure silver, and Marvin had developed a topical medicine made from it that could keep the illness at bay.

Only problem was that Marvin often forgot to take it, and when that happened, things could get ugly. He’d almost killed Chase the last time by telekinetically throwing him through a window.

“Yes, I've taken them.”

The room got uncomfortably silent again, the cold from the open window chilling Jackie to the bone even though his jacket. Marvin finished his pancakes, placing the plastic plate in the dishwasher.

“There’s more on the stove if anyone wants any,” he said, ducking back out of the room.

Then, Jackie was alone with Chase. They didn’t speak, letting the room fill back up with the cold and empty silence that had occupied their apartment for months now. Jackie felt for Chase. While Mavin stayed in his room and searched for Anti’s possible weaknesses, Jackieboy Man was out in the town, surveying, looking for the man himself. Chase was often left alone with JJ for long stretches of time, with nothing to do but watch TV and try distract himself from how lonely the apartment had become.

Jackie hated to do it, but leaving everyday was necessary. The city still needed their hero, even when he sometimes needed one of his own. Life didn’t stop just because Schneep disappeared. They had to keep going, even when there didn’t seem to be a point anymore.

He stood from the couch, adjusting his jacket and pulling a scarf from the hatrack. The morning was brisk, he would need it.

“You’re not even going to eat anything?” Chase asked, his voice laced with that familiar parental concern that sent a pang through Jackie’s heart.

Jackie laughed, the sound strange and foreign in the empty living room. “What, are you my mom now?” Chase joined him soon after, the action familiar and comforting if not bittersweet.

Then Chase’s face fell, the room returning back to the somber atmosphere that had choked it for the past six months. The moment had passed.

“Well, be careful, anyway.”

Chase didn’t say it, but Jackie could hear the undertone in his voice.

I can’t lose you too.

The two locked eyes for a moment before Chase turned away, sinking back into the couch. It was clear that the conversation was over.

Jackie turned and pulled open the door, the winter air hitting his face full force. It stung, sucking the oxygen out of his lungs like a high power vacuum. Yet, it was also refreshing, a much needed shock to the system.

The morning was strangely silent, not a single soul out on the street. A soft blanket of snow covered the road and surrounding yards, the salt trucks hadn’t reached this small corner of town yet. It was a rare moment of peace in a world of constant noise and danger. Jackie made sure to appreciate it while it lasted.

He didn’t run into a single other person on his way to the lookout point, which became more and more strange the longer he walked. It was like everyone was hiding, the world collectively holding its breath for something. Jackie didn’t like it, not one bit. The silence, while relaxing at first, now unnerved him too much for him to enjoy it. His shoulders tensed, hand tightening on the brass knuckles in his hoodie pocket.

Then, it happened. Like the crack of a gunshot, a shrill scream filled the silence. All of Jackie’s muscles tensed as he burst forward in full sprint, following the sound to an empty street a few blocks away. Blood roared in his ears, panic coursing through his veins like a second skin.

Lying in the snow was the mangled corpse, a steak knife sticking out of its forehead. Blood stained the snow in a full circle from the figure’s head like a crimson flower in full bloom. Standing over the body was another person in a heavy black overcoat.

Jackie skidded to a stop, pulling out the brass knuckles from his pocket. Then, the figure in black looked up

It was Anti.

Jackieboy Man nearly screamed, but he swallowed it. The last thing he needed was to show weakness in this situation, especially since there was no one else around. Anti had made sure of that. If the demon overpowered him, there would be no witnesses.

“I knew that would get your attention.”

Jackie stood in complete silence, trying in vain to calm himself down. After a few deep breaths he managed to speak.

“Who was this? Wh-who did you just kill?”

Anti laughed, retrieving the steak knife and cleaning it on his jeans before returning it to the sheath at his hip. His eyes were cruel, filled with a twisted kind of joy that made Jackie sick. This was a game to him, human lives had no more value than the dirty snow stuck to the bottom of his boots.

“I don’t know, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew it would be the best way to get your attention. Besides, I’m getting restless. It’s been awhile since I’ve actually killed anyone. ” Anti smiled, the movement unnatural and jolty, like he knew that smiling was something humans did but didn’t know why.

It was at moments like these when Anti��s true nature was apparent: an inhuman monster, wearing Jack’s face like a skin suit.

Anger flushed behind Jackie’s skin, flooding the fear out of his system and replacing it with such a visceral rage that it was almost physically painful. This creature had tormented them for almost two years. He was responsible for so much pain and suffering and heartbreak yet it meant nothing to him. Jackie preferred to finish conflicts with as few casualties as possible, but if there was anyone he wouldn't have a problem getting rid of it would definitely be Anti. He’d never felt a stronger urge to beat someone’s head into a bloody pulp then he did at that moment.

Anti, however, found Jackie’s anger as passively amusing as he did everything else.

“You’ve killed Jack. Twice.” Jackie’s fist was so tight on the brass knuckles that it almost hurt. “You killed Henrik.”

Then Anti laughed, an ear splitting sound that cut through the cold winter’s air like, ironically, a knife through flesh. It was a horrible, joyless sound, but the fact that Anti found this funny only pissed Jackie off more.

“You really think Schneeplestien is dead, do you? Why would I go through all of the trouble driving the man insane and making him into a puppet to do my bidding if I was just going to off him later? Oh, he’s alive alright. Not that it means anything to you. You’ll never find him anyway.”

That was when Jackie snapped, surging forward in a burst of rage, tackling Anti head on. The two went flying into a nearby snowdrift, Jackieboy rearing back to punch him directly in the bridge of his nose. He felt the metal of the brass knuckles break the bone, leaving Anti with a nasty bloody nose. Yet, even with the extra strength Jackie had gained from his months of excessive training, almost to the point of obsession, the demon was still much, much stronger than him. A well placed kick to the chest sent him flying away from Anti, hitting a nearby wall and crumbling into the snow.

Everything hurt. The kick in the ribs might have even broken them, but Jackie couldn’t be sure. All of the air had been forcefully ejected from his lungs upon impact with the wall. Half of him wanted to continue laying there, hoping and praying that Anti would lose interest. However, it was the other side of him that won, the side that would stop at nothing to make Anti pay for what he had done. He pulled himself to his feet, wiping the blood from the scrapes his fall had caused.

Anti was, of course, waiting for him. Though he was starting to bruise from the encounter, otherwise he looked completely fine. He had already wiped the blood away, leaving a red streak across his face.

“Is that really all the fight you have? Awfully disappointing, I expected better.”

Jackie steadied himself, taking in a breath, but by the time he looked back up again Anti was standing on the steel balcony of one of the warehouses.

“See if you can catch me, little hero.”

Jackie sprinted to the base of the building, muscles still screaming from the effort. There didn’t seem to be any viable ways to get up to the balcony, let alone before Anti decided to teleport somewhere else.

“What, you’re just going to run like a coward?!” Jackie called up to him, feeling his anger once again wash the apprehension from his system. Anti wasn’t going to get away, not this time.

The smile on Anti’s face dissipated, his eyes cold and listless. When he spoke, his voice was no longer modulated and scratchy as was his signature. Instead it was loud and booming yet clear, a menacing echo that sunk into his very bones.

“If you ever want to see the good doctor again, then I’d hurry up if I were you.”

Then he was gone. He reappeared at the top of the building, obviously losing patience.

Jackie kept up to the nearest ledge, barely managing to grip it in his hands. Scaling a building was not the smartest thing to be attempting after being kicked in the ribs, but that didn’t matter. Schneeplestien was alive. Jackie didn’t care if it killed him, he was going to chase Anti down. Failure was no longer an option.

By the time he had grappled his way to the top of the building using a series of small ledges and steel balconies, Anti was in a dead sprint across the flat roof of the warehouse. Jackie pushed after him, always coming so close and yet just out of reach. Anti was taunting him, that much was certain. He just needed something that could slow the demon down.

Jackieboy Man reached down to his waist, hoping and praying that he had remembered to take his utility belt with him. Fortunately enough it was there, albeit horribly understocked. He had a few meters of rope, a gun with a single tranquilizer dart in it, his grappling hook and several small throwing knives. He was so busy moping this morning that he had forgotten to restock.

As much as he wanted to kick himself for making such a stupid mistake, there wasn't any time. He weighed his options.

The tranquilizer was mostly useless, because even if he managed to hit Anti, it was unlikely that a tranquilizer made for humans would be effective on a demon. There were no taller buildings to use the grappling hook on and the rope didn’t have much of a use either. That left the throwing knives. As well as being the only possibly lethal weapon he regularly carried, they were also the only ranged option he had left. For once, he wished he would have grabbed one of Chase’s pistols.

Or, more truthfully, he wished Chase was here himself. The man was actually quite the sharpshooter, and if anyone could hit a moving target, especially one that could teleport, Chase would be it. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jackie was going to have to do this himself.

He pulled one of the knives from his belt, trying to remember the correct way to hold them. Anti was getting dangerously close to the end of the roof, so he had to be quick.

Though Jackie was in a hurry and his throw was sloppy in its execution, the blade still sailed true, hitting Anti square in the back of the neck. Unfortunately though, that didn’t even slow him down. He treated it like nothing but a minor annoyance, turing on his heel and throwing it back.

“Knives are my thing, get your own trademark.”

Whatever skill Jackie had with knives, Anti obviously outmatched him, and by a long shot. The knife flew at an arc, heading straight for the hero’s forehead. He managed to jump out of the way, but the blade still nicked his ear and the side of his head. The wound burned, but Jackie had other things to worry about.

Anti had reached the end of the warehouse roof and instead of jumping, he simply teleported to the roof directly adjacent. Jackie would have to jump. He had lept larger distances than this but considering the fact that he was injured and chasing a knife throwing maniac, he didn’t like his chances. If Anti decided to throw another knife while he was in midair, he wasn't sure he could dodge it.

However, there weren’t any other options. If he could have used his grappling hook he would’ve, but there wasn’t anything for it to latch on to.

By dumb luck or fate, Jackie stuck the landing relatively unharmed, yet Anti was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse roof was completely empty. He paused, lowering his knife in confusion.

Big mistake.

As soon as his guard was down Anti struck, appearing out of thin air to jump tackle him to the ground. The sharp edges of the rusted railing hit him square in the temple, ripping the skin from his temple to his cheek wide open.

His head was still hanging off of the roof, Anti pinning his arms to the ground.

“Did I scare you?”

Jackie didn't answer, struggling against the demon’s steel grip. Blood from his cut was dripping into his eyes, the cold wind whipping up snow and debris around them. He could hear Anti’s haggard breathing, his eyes wide with disgusting amounts of glee at Jackie’s compromised position. One strong push and he’d be in a 30 foot free fall onto the pavement below.

“I could shove you off right now, little hero. Watch you break all of your pretty little bones on the concrete. But that would be cheating, wouldn't it, letting gravity do my job for me. No, I'd much rather your death be as personal and agonizingly painful as possible. Falling is too good for you.”

“You know what’s cheating, Anti?”

“What?”

Jackie took Anti’s split second confusion as an opening, kneeing him in the stomach. His grip on Jackie’s arms loosened slightly, and the hero took this opportunity to plunge one of his throwing knives straight into Anti’s left eye.

The demon screeched in pain, falling backwards and clawing at the blade protruding from his eye socket. Demon or no, getting stabbed in the eye fucking hurts.

“That, was cheating.”

Jackie jumped to his feat, wiping the blood from his face. Anti had ripped the knife from his eye, tossing it off of the warehouse and onto the street below. Blood gushed from his wound, dripping down his face and neck. Anti wasn't in pain anymore, he was pissed.

“Ỹ̵̢̝̣̫͇̝̪̮̝̄̆͋͌͌̍̑̍̕o̦̘͍̱͉͙̎̆̇͛̾̐û͖̞̟̬̪̟̳̞͌̎͌̑̋̏̓̕͜͞ l̢͍̠͉͖̰̱̻̈́̂̆̆͘͝͡í̡̹͙̘̤̼̘̤̥̑̄̋̽͊̀̄t̖̙̯̪̉̈́͐̎̎́̽͘͢͜͠͝ͅͅt̗̗̤̟̜̜̻͓͆͊̄̆̕l̸̹̤͈̤̯̬̼͚̳͋̊͌́̏̈e̶̘͕̖͍͍̭̝̼̥͗̐̔͗̅̏̆͡͡ f̫̦̱̭̦͇͕̃̍̄̒͒̓͛̎̆ù̵̮͕̙͙̖̰̹̰̿͌͑̈́̓̌̕͢͞͠c̖͓̱̯̳̫͍̥̹̲̍̽̈́͒͒̒̃͞͡k̵̡̺̙̙̮̱̏͂̈́̏̂͂͟ḙ̵͙̗͙̯͔̔͆͆̑̑͐̕͢͠r̸͍̱͔̘̦̺̦͚̘̀̉̄̓͡͠!̨̬̞̫̘̪͚̻̈̽͘͝͡” . Anti lunged at him, Jackie barely managing to leap out of the way. The two continued on that way, Jackieboy leaping and dodging Anti’s continually more erratic attacks. His chest was burning where Anti had kicked him, every breath painful, his sight constantly compromised by the gash in his temple. The only thing that was currently saving him was the fact that Anti had temporarily lost his depth perception. He continually stayed in the demon’s blindspot, frustrating Anti to no end.

However, Anti had nearly endless endurance, and Jackie did not. While the demon had barely broken a sweat during the encounter, Jackie was about to collapse from a mixture of injury and human weakness. Anti managed to catch him from the side, grabbing him by the neck and flinging him across the warehouse roof.

Jackie hit the ground on his shoulder, hard, skidding to a stop only because the protective hand rails stopped him from rolling to his death. Anti, even compromised, had won.

Then a gunshot went off.

Anti grabbed at the back of his neck, letting out the most horrifying scream Jackie had ever heard, he could have sworn his ears were starting to bleed from the pure intensity. When the demon turned, Jackieboy Man could see the bullet hole in the back of his neck, blackish burn marks spreading from the entry wound and letting off an awful looking black smoke.

Standing at the opposite end of the roof was Chase, pistol in hand.

“Chase!’ Jackie managed to croak out, trying to lift his head and immediately regretting it. The shockwave of pain nearly made him pass out.

“Get the fuck away from him!”

Anti didn’t stop to gloat, pulling out both of his steak knives and charging Chase at full speed. Chase lunged sideways, narrowly avoiding the demon’s blades while getting off two more shots on his shoulder and collarbone. For once the attacks were actually hurting him. Though Jackie thought he would like to see the Anti in pain, it was actually very uncomfortable, like watching a wounded animal bleed out right in front of you. Anti, though, wasn’t down just yet. He discarded his blades, instead opting to shove Chase sideways into the railing. The sheer force caused the rusted structure to buckle, sending Chase flying off of the edge of the building.

Jackie couldn’t even scream out for him, he didn’t have the strength to. Time seemed to slow down as he waited for the sickening sound of Chase hitting the pavement below.

But it never came.

Suddenly, Chase began to float back up towards the building as if suspended from an invisible hand. Anti turned wildly, looking for the source of the miracle, but Jackie already knew who it was. Marvin. That or he had lost so much blood that he was starting to hallucinate, but he hoped that wasn’t the case.

Chase was dropped gingerly back on the roof, so bewildered that he couldn’t even move.

Anti, however, wasn’t faring as well. His teleporting ability was going haywire, sending him into several places at once as the blackened burns spread across his skin. Eventually he glitched out of existence and didn’t reappear.

It was only then that Marvin came out of hiding, limping from out behind a few old metal crates where he had been hiding. He looked like he might drop dead at any moment, but at least he was alive for now. Chase snapped out of his stupor and went running to Jackie’s side, dragging him away from the edge of the building.

“Holy shit dude what happened?!”

Jackie once again attempted to sit up, but was unable to. He instead opted to lay back, willing his headache to subside.

“What do you think? Anti kicked my ass.”

The two laughed, although nervously. Anti had gone, but they had no idea if he might reappear.

Getting out of there as fast as possible was top priority.

Chase ran a hand through his hair, looking back at Marvin for advice. The magician wasn’t doing all that well either. He was clinging to the warehouse railing for dear life, looking like he might pass out at any moment. Chase rushed to him, gripping him by the shoulders.

“Marv, you okay buddy? Marv?!”

Marvin collapsed in Chase’s arms, nearly hitting his head on the rail in the process.

“What’s wrong with him?!” Jackie said, managing to sit up successfully this time. Marvin was cradled in Chase’s lap, alive but seemingly unconscious.

“He probably used too much magic at once. Not only did he manage to teleport us up here, he also force levitated me over a 30 foot free fall, all of that on top of being weakened from all the necromancy he’s been doing recently. I’m surprised he didn’t pass out earlier.” Chase slowly set Marvin down on the ground, patting his own back pockets.“Oh fuck, I must have dropped my gun when Anti pushed me off of the building! That thing had at least three more silver bullets still in it!”

Silver bullets? Jackie knew that pure silver helped cure Night Sickness but he had no idea it hurt demons as well.

“Two questions: One, where are you getting all of this silver from, and two, why didn’t you tell me silver hurts demons?! That would have been useful information to know.”

Chase’s face softened a little.

“I didn't even know about it until today. Marvin got one of those random future visions he sometimes gets, warning us you were in danger, and told me that he might have one idea what Anti’s weakness might be. He figured that since silver dispels demonic magic and cures Night Sickness, it might hurt demons directly as well.”

“Wait, so that means you didn't even know if the bullets would work?”

Chase shook his head.

“No. Marvin wanted to test if it would work on a weaker demon first but there wasn't any time.

Also to answer the first question, Marvin gets it from the Host. That guy has a shit ton of random odds and ends, he makes his own synthetic silver with the same properties as the real deal, which allows it to still burn demons. Only problem is that it takes forever to make and there's a limited supply of it.”

When had Marvin gotten the time to go off and see Host during all of this bullshit? Jackie wasn’t sure, but he made a mental note to thank Host next time he saw him. Without those silver bullets, he might not have even been alive right then.

The three sat in silence for awhile until another question dawned on them: how in the hell were they going to get down off the warehouse? Jackie desperately needed a hospital, and there was no way he could explain to a normal doctor that he’d hurt his ribs and possibly his shoulder chasing down a demon. Schneep had always taken care of situations like this, but without him they were on their own. Chase seemed to realize this as well.

“Since we can’t take you to Schneep since he’s...you know, I might have to call in a favor Bing owes me.”

Chase reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, an old model built like a brick. Since Anti manipulates technology, he had opted for the least technologically advanced thing possible.

The phone rang twice before Bing picked up.

“Chase, bro, that you?”

“Yeah, its me. You remember that favor you owe me?”

The phone went quiet for a second.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I’m calling it in now. We’re in trouble and need some help. Jackie, Marvin and I are stuck on the top of a warehouse, Jackie is injured and Marvin’s unconscious.”

“Shit dude, you still have that watch I gave you, the one with the coordinates?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, I’ll be there in a second.”

He was quite literally there in a second. Only a few moments after the call ended he materialized next to Chase, like he’d been there the whole time.

Jackie thought he was seeing things again.

“How the hell did he-?!”

Bing adjusted his glasses and shuddered as he did so, clearly receiving system shock from the sudden change in temperature.

“Dark put the mansion in a separate plane of existence, so I can pretty much teleport anywhere from there if I have specific enough coordinates. That’s why I gave Chase that watch, it gives me his exact coordinates so I know where he is if something...happens.”

It was only then that Jackie noticed the watch Chase was wearing. Jackie had never really noticed it before.

“Can you phone Dr. Iplier for us? Anti fucked Jackie up pretty badly.”

Bing nodded, pressing a button on the inside of his wrist.After a few moments a voice spoke, coming from the small speaker at the base of Bing’s neck.

“You have reached Ego Inc. This is Google Blue. Who is calling?”

“Oh for fucks sake Google, cut the shit. I need Dr. Iplier, ASAP.”

“Oh, you haven't heard? Dark is screening all calls to and from the mansion, which means every incoming call has to come through me first. But you wouldn't know that, because you never show up to any of the meetings.”

Chase could see Bing’s obvious agitation in the look on his face.

“That's because I’m never invited to any of them, Google. You know this.”

“I wonder why.”

The snow was coming down faster now, falling and melting into steam upon contact with Bing’s warm skin. He literally looked like he was about to burst into flames, and at his point Chase wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Get Dr. Iplier on the line now, Google. This is an emergency.”

“Fine. But be warned, Dark’s still keeping tabs on you after that other stunt you pulled. I’d tread lightly unless you want your motherboard crushed under his boot heel.”

Google passed the line over before Bing could retort. A few seconds later, Dr. Iplier spoke.

“Hello, Dr. Iplier speaking.”

“Yeah, Doctor? I have some of Jack’s egos up here. One’s unconscious and the other’s really injured, they need help.”

“What happened?”

Chase sighed, shifting Marvin into a half sitting position against the rail.

“What do you think?”

The line went silent for a moment.

“Alright. Hold on a second.”

There were sounds of papers shuffling and another phone ringing in the background. The voice that came out of the receiver was the absolute last one any of them wanted to hear at a time like this.

“What is it, Doctor? You know I don’t like being interrupted during working hours.”

“Yes, Dark, I know, but this is a matter of emergency. I have two patients I need admitted. As per the new regulations, I’m running it by you first.”

“By the way you made sure not to say any of these “patients” names, I’m assuming they’re Sean’s wards?”

“Yes.”

“Pity, I would've thought Anti had gotten rid of them by now. Regardless, you have until tomorrow morning, 6am sharp. If they aren’t gone by then I’ll dispose of them myself.”

Dark hung up.

It was a few more moments before Dr. Iplier spoke again.

“Ok, I’ll be waiting outside the side entrance. Bring them by there, its a faster route to the clinic.”

Then the line went dead. Bing’s eyes returned to their normal shade, and he turned to face the others again.

“I’ll get Jackie and you can have Marvin. Don’t worry, it’s not a long walk.”

Bing reached down and gingerly took Jackie in his arms, careful not to irritate the shoulder. In any other circumstances it would have been slightly awkward, but considering how freezing cold and exhausted Jackie was, he didn’t mind. The constant heat Bing radiated was a welcome side effect.

Chase did his best to pick up Marvin, but it was no easy task. The magician was much heavier than he looked. Eventually though, Chase managed to grapple him into halfway comfortable position with one arm under his neck and the other in the crook of his knees.

“Hold on to me, this might feel kinda weird for a minute.”

Chase made his way over to Bing, looping their arms together. The world around them started to fade and warp like a melting watercolor painting, giving Chase intense vertigo. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the feeling to subside. When it did, even he wasn’t ready for what awaited him on the other side.

Chase had only been to the Ego mansion once, and it had been quite some time since. While it didn’t look different necessarily, he had completely forgotten how imposing it was. With all of its many balconies and absolutely insane number of windows, it almost looked like a monster ready to swallow you whole. The last thing he wanted to do was go in, but that was where help for his friends was. There wasn’t any choice.

Bing was already making his way around the edge of the lawn, towards an out of the way door on the side of the west wing. Chase followed him best he could, but his arms were already screaming from carrying Marvin. Another reminder of his waning shape no doubt.

Dr. Iplier was waiting by the door, just as he’d promised.

The doctor looked absolutely exhausted, but he was obviously trying not to show it. He beckoned them through the side door, which led directly into the back of the inhouse clinic.

The room was extremely bright and clean, every single inch gleaming white. It was unnaturally neat as well, looking a bit more like a padded cell than anything else. The doctor’s desk was the only thing not tidied up, covered in papers, books, and several empty coffee mugs. One of the beds in the back of the room was occupied, but the figure was turned away from them and was thus unidentifiable.

Dr. Iplier led them to beds adjacent from the occupied one, instructing Chase to lay Marvin down.

“I suspect his issue is more magical and less biological, so I can’t do much in that department. Host may be able to help you though, he knows a little bit about everything.”

He reached over behind his desk, pulling out a small rotary phone.

“Even Google can't monitor these, the technology is too outdated. Technically I'm not even supposed to have it, but Dark doesn't have to know that.”

The group waited while the doctor dialed a number. It rang once before someone picked up.

“Host, I need you in the clinic. There’s someone down here that could use your brand of expertise. Make sure you aren't followed.”

He hung up before Host could answer, shoving the old phone back behind stacks of paperwork and old equipment. Then he turned to Jackie, still cradled in Bing’s arms.

“While we wait for him, I think we need to get you bandaged up.”

Bing laid Jackie down on another of the beds, propping him up on a stack of pillows while Dr.Iplier rummaged through his medicine cabinet.

He came back with a 16 oz bottle of rubbing alcohol and a roll of gauze bandages.

Now that the adrenaline of the encounter had worn off, Jackie began to realize just how injured he actually was. Every single bone felt like it had snapped in half, even breathing was difficult. The entire left half of his face was caked in blood from the gash on his temple.

Dr.Iplier wiped down the wound with rubbing alcohol before wrapping it, cleaning off the rest of the blood with a warm washrag. Meanwhile, Chase and Bing sat in the corner on folding chairs, waiting for Host to arrive. He didn’t take long, knocking on the door right as Dr. Iplier finished dressing Jackie’s wound.

Bing let him in, and even without being told, he seemed to know exactly what was needed of him. That was one of the many things that creeped Jackie out about the Host, the way he always seemed to know things without being told, and how he navigated the world as if he was watching it from the third person. Yet, after learning what Host had done for them, Jackie appreciated him that much more.

Host made his way over to Marvin, removing his mask and laying a hand on his forehead. For a long few seconds, nothing happened. Then he spoke.

“Marvin has severely overworked himself. His immune system is weakened from the necromancy he’s been using, an endeavor that the Host strongly warned him against pursuing. He will be in a sleep like coma state for at least a week, possibly more depending on the severity of the damage. The only thing that can be done is allow his body to heal on its own, but I caution you to make sure he does not use magic at all in the following two weeks from his awakening. It might send him into an even deeper coma, one he may never wake up from.”

Host turned away from Marvin, attempting to adjust his bandages only for them to fall even deeper down onto his nose. They were so soggy they seemed like they might literally dissolve. The others could hear him narrating his frustrations under his breath, wiping his blood stained hands on the hem of his coat.

“Host, when was the last time you had me change your bandages? You were supposed to come in yesterday. And the day before that,” The doctor asked him, sending a pointed glare over his shoulder.

“The Host chooses not to answer that question.”

“Oh for fucks sake.” Dr.Iplier set down the bandages, making his way over to Host and pulling him behind one of the medical curtains by the hem of his coat sleeves.

“How many times have I told you to let me change these at least once a day? Do you want an infection? Do you want to get some nasty virus and be bedridden for weeks like last year? Hold still-”

After a few minutes of Host grumbling his complaints from behind the curtain the two emerged, the doctor with blood covered gloves and the Host looking cleaner, at the very least. His bandages were changed and his face washed, although he didn’t necessarily look happy about it.

“Alright.” Dr. Iplier removed his gloves and pitched them into a nearby trash can. “What else is wrong with you?”

Jackie was taken back to the problem at hand: the fact that his ribs could very well be broken.

“Anti kicked me in the ribs. I don’t know if they’re broken or bruised or what but they hurt like hell.”

And hurt they did. He didn’t feel like any were broken but they were definitely bruised at the very least. How he managed to scale a building like this was a mystery even to himself, but he chalked it up to adrenaline.

“That’s going to require an X-ray to know for sure what is wrong with them. The ribs are surprisingly fragile, people can bruise them from coughing too hard. If a demon kicked you there, It’ll be a miracle if they aren’t broken. Hold still for a minute.”

Dr. Iplier laid Jackie down flat on the bed, feeling around his ribcage for cracks. The more he did, the more confused he became.

“Either Anti was really going easy on you or you have magic bones, because I don’t feel any cracks. They’re probably bruised, but I’ll do an X-ray just to be sure. Still, considering who you went up against, I’m very surprised you aren’t in worse shape.”

“Anti clearly wasn’t interested in killing you,” Host said, adjusting the new clean bandages. “If he was, you wouldn’t be here right now. He’s playing the long game, this encounter was clearly meant to taunt you.”

Taunt you. Jackie had had enough of that lately. Still, he had nearly died fighting an Anti that wasn’t even trying. What was he going to do when the demon actually had a mind to kill him?

Dr. Iplier looked him over. “Do you have any metal on you? It’ll mess with the X-ray if you do.”

It was then that Jackie remembered he still had his utility belt on. He removed it, as well as the brass knuckles from his pocket, though it felt strange to be without them. The doctor rolled his bed into a seperate room, closing the door behind them.

Silence.

Extremely awkward, suffocating silence, the kind where you’d do anything to fill it but there’s nothing to be said. Bing and Chase sat side by side with the Host guarded the door. While Chase could hear footsteps and ringing phones upstairs, albeit faintly, it still felt like the doctor’s clinic was in a different world, kept separate from everything else. It was there, in that silence, that Chase began to cry.

Bing grabbed Chase’s shoulder. “Dude, what’s wrong?!”

“I- I fucking shot him! I shot Anti.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

Chase curled in on himself, face buried in his knees.

“No! Yes? Maybe! I don’t know! All I do know is that he’s going to be fucking pissed at me when he gets back.”

“Then just shoot him again! Shoot him until he fucking dies already!”

“That’s not how it works, Bing.” Chase lifted his head, wiping away his tears and staring hollowly at the white tile at his feet. “We’re all fucking doomed. No matter what we do, he’ll just keep coming back, over and over until we’re all dead.”

Host rose from his seat.

“You’re still alive now, aren’t you? As long as that fact remains, all is not lost. Demons are strong and formidable, yes, but they are not gods. They have weaknesses just as humans do.”

“Really?” Chase looked up at him, disbelief in his tone. If Anti really did have a weakness, they probably would have found it by now. “What’s Anti’s then? Besides silver, I mean.”

“The Host suspects that it is his own ego, forgive the pun. He believes that he is god, untouchable by man, when in fact he can be struck down like anyone else. He is reckless.”

Host’s words hung heavy in the air for a moment. They held power, power that Chase had not felt in a very long time. Never had he dared to dream that Anti could be beaten, that there was a life beyond the nightmare they’d been living. Bing had quieted, eyes trained on the sleeping figure in the one occupied bed.

“Then maybe we can rid ourselves of our own demon too.”

Host laid a hand on Bing’s shoulder. “We can only hope.”

A few more minutes passed before Jackie was done with his X-ray, and by that time the porch lights of the mansion had begun to dim. The harsh white of the clinic was also starting to give Chase a headache, so he was happy to see a friendly face. Jackie was in a hospital gown with his arm in a sling, clothes folded at the edge of his bed.

“He’s all patched up. The ribs were bruised, but as long as he stays in bed and rests them they should be healed in two to three weeks. Painkillers and an ice pack should help, but I’d recommend sleeping upright for a few days. The shoulder will take longer, possibly six to eight weeks for it to return to the strength it once was. You can stay the night here if you wish, I’ve got some extra beds.”

The doctor rolled the bed back into place. “And for christs sake, don’t try to go off superheroing before you’re healed. Ever since Schneeplestein disappeared it’s like you all have a deathwish.”

Schneeplestein. Jackie jolted to attention, remembering what Anti had told him.

“Guys, I have something to tell you. Schneep’s alive. Anti told me so. Says he’s hidden where we’ll never find him.”

“He’s what?!”

“Alive! Somewhere! We’ve got to find him, who knows what Anti’s done to him since August.”

Dr. Iplier cast a stern look over his shoulder. “Not like that you aren’t.”

“Schneep could be fucking dying!”

“And you will be too if you go out there like that!”

The Host sighed like Dr.Iplier had had this argument with many many other patients before.

“Patience. I trust in Henrik’s resilience. If he’s lasted six months, he can last two more weeks. You will need your strength, especially if Anti is hiding him where I think he is.”

That got the group's attention.

“Where?’

“Most likely it’s in a pocket dimension much like the one you’re in right now. A place outside of time, where two days can feel like two years. Demons are the masters of this art, creating timelines and destroying them on a whim. Spending six months in one, like how your friend has, could feel like decades depending on how the dimension was made. Though you should not attempt to enter one until you are well, the Host implores you to hurry. That much time in a demonic loop is more than enough to contract night sickness.”

“Then what the hell do we do until then? How to we even find it? How-”

The Host cut Jackie off.

“Right now, you get some sleep.

If you’re to survive the trials to come, you’ll need it.”

And there it is. There are (hopefully) going to be two more parts to this, so I really do hope you all enjoyed it.

(tagging some peeps who might enjoy this.)

@lum1natrix @hufflepufftrax @fear-is-nameless @septic-dr-schneep @mysteriousdogduo

#Jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #antisepticeye #antisepticeye fanfiction #septicegos #pluto's writings

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infinitysdecendants76730 · 3 years ago

Text

Infinity’s Descendants- Becoming La Reine de la Mort

“The Duchessa of San Marino pt 2”

The tent had been broken down and the final trek to the Duchessa of San Marino’s estate had begun. Although it was quiet I still felt like we were not alone as Malachi and I trekked on. The quiet whispers of the stream in the distance began to grow louder and louder as we neared it.Finally, when we made it to the stream both Malachi and myself expected to at least see one post or some guards on foot but…there was nothing, there was no one.

“Find this a bit odd?” asked Malachi. “Je ne sais pas. Let’s keep moving” I replied.

After walking a bit further I looked back. Behind Malachi, in the distance, I saw a round red blur surface just above the water and quickly disappear. “We are getting close” I said to him. “How do you know, I cannot see anything. The terrain still seems the same” he replied. “They have been tracking us since we first reached the stream back there” I turned to face him, ensuring he doesn’t not lose his head. “What are we still doing here then” he asked, trying to conceal his growing panic. “Waiting for them to introduce themselves” I smiled. “Merde” he placed his bag on the ground and began to ready himself for a fight.

My comrades’ heartbeat hastened as we heard the footsteps of the soldiers; they had surrounded us. “Azazelle” he said wearily. “I do not recall getting captured being part of the plan” “Who said anything about being captured? Can you count how many?” I whispered. The thick canopy of the trees above us only allowed minimal moonlight to shine through. Perfect conditions for the enhanced vision that Malachi and I had but mortal eyes would struggle to see in this lighting. “13. Is that your count?” He asked. 13? I looked out into the trees and counted again. Maybe I miscounted? 1,2,3…I counted to myself until I finished. “I count 21” It seems that the lack of light is not playing to our advantage as much I thought it would be. “You take the 10 to the left. I’ll take the rest, d ’accord?” For the first time on this journey I could have swore that Malachi actually looked excited.

Poor mortals, they believed that if they stayed completely still we would be unable to see them. Little did they know I was able to see the very blood that coursed through their veins. They never stood a chance.

There was a group of three huddled together. I silenced each of them with a quick slice of the throat. Another two, I slayed with blows to the chest hard enough to stop their hearts. Two more ceased to live after broke their necks. Admittedly, I was disappointed in the caliber of soldiers they had sent after us. These soldiers had even presented the slightest bit of a challenge.

I snapped the neck of another one. This one had a gun and a bottle of something slung around his back. It smelled like some sort of incendiary so naturally I held on to it. Two soldier’s rushed me from behind with drawn swords. Quickly I drew mine. Slicing one across his stomach and the other his femoral artery. I did not bother to take the lives of these two as their injuries would surely do that for me.

“Ora!!” one of the soldiers shouted. “No! Attesa!” another shouted. I turned towards the voices and saw a bottle like the one I had took from the soldier with the gun fall to the ground. There was a loud bang followed immediately by a small explosion of bright red flames. Both the soldier who gave the command and the one tasked to carry it out were ablaze. Their screams told just how excruciating the pain was that they were in as they scurried to the stream to extinguish themselves.

I needed to reconvene with Malachi but there were still several soldiers between us. From my current vantage point I could see every soldier remaining. One by one I picked them off with my throwing knives until the only two left were the ones nearest Malachi.

Neither of them saw me. They were solely focused on Malachi. This was a perfect time for me to assess his skills. He waited patiently for one of them to attack. I will admit, these soldiers were smart. One lunged at Malachi with his sword while the other hesitated ever so slightly then tried to take him down. The tactic worked. Malachi was stabbed but it was just a flesh wound. He was just about to overtake both soldiers when he tripped over a half buried stump in the scuffle.

I was circling the action and was near the stream when I heard a stick break behind me. Before the soldier could draw his sword my hand was around his throat. When I let go he gasped frantically for air. He never even noticed that I had took his sword. His eyes widened in shock as I drove the sword through his body staking him to the tree behind him. I made sure to be careful and avoid all his major organs. We would need him later. When I turned back to Malachi he was struggling to keep a soldier from stabbing him. There was no way a mortal would be overpowering him like this. It had to be another vampire.

There was a loud BOOM and the soldier’s head rocked back, the knife fell from his hand. When his head rocked back you could see that I had given him a third eye in the middle of his forehead. I did not want to fire that shot but Malachi was in danger. “We must hurry Azazelle. That shot surely gave up our position” he said throwing the man off him. “Not yet, follow me”

“I will show you mercy if you tell me where we can find the traitors” I said to the soldier. “Fuck you bitch” he spat. I took the blade of my knife and dug it deep into his rotator cuff. He opened his mouth to scream and I covered it. “Sir I urge you to be wise. I do not intend on causing you anymore pain but I will if you do not give me what I need. Do you understand?” A tear fell from the soldier’s eye down his cheek. “Shake your head if you do” He nodded. “Where can we find them?” The look I gave him before uncovering his mouth was the final warning he would receive from me.

The screams of “Aiutaci per favore!” from the soldiers we had let live echoed through the forest and across the estate grounds. The soldiers who had heard the screams and the gun shot had approached. Standing on the other side of the stream they gripped there guns; fingers trembling on the triggers. They could not see us but our now known presence had them spooked. Malachi threw a rock into the tree line. There was a single Gunshot. Then a flurry of them. They were so busy shooting into the tree line they did not see Malachi and I slip behind them.

The estate was only yards away now and we were able to slip in undetected through a side door. “How many did you get?” I asked as we regrouped in the torchlit hallway. “Deux” he replied “Seulement deux? Are you going to fight this time or should you have stayed at the coven as well?” I laughed. “Very funny” he winced as he took his cloak off then immediately grasped for his side. “I have never seen anyone move like that. My understanding of why Lasko selected you is growing ever more as time passes” he gave a slight smile but I could still tell he was in pain. “Lean back, let me see your wound” I reached for his side and noticed that I too had sustained an injury. Nowhere near as severe as Malachi’s but there was a deep gash in the palm of my hand. I wiped the blood off to the best of my ability quickly tended to his wound. “That should hold you until we are finished here. Are you ready to continue on?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are the two of you doing? Are you not going to hide?” the Duchessa asked failing to mask her distress. She was clothed in a beautiful pastel yellow robe a l’anglaise with lovely embroidered silk flowers on the corset and matching flowers at the bottom of her petticoat. She wore a necklace of emeralds with a matching emerald green ring that she was spinning nervously. “Hide if you wish Duchessa. We are going to finish our drinks” said one of the traitors. His behavior was stark contrast to that of the Duchessa’s. He sat there in his maroon frock with gold buttons, Italian lace at his neck and breeches that matched his frock without a single trace of fear or concern. “We have a few tricks up our sleeves as well” the other chimed in with an arrogant smile as he tugged at the lace under the white sleeve of his brocade coat.

The Duchessa stared at them with displeasure. Of course they would have no regard for proper safety precautions. Unlike her, they were of the damned. Death would never knock on their door as it is threatening to do to hers this very night.“Very well. Do as you please. I on the other hand do not wish to die” She hastily left the room with her guards. She was being escorted to her safe haven, in there it was practically impossible to get to her as the room was nearly impenetrable. Thanks to the loose lipped soldier in the woods the death dealers knew exactly where to go and how to get in.

Azazelle and Malachi had thought it best to separate once they entered. They had agreed that Azazelle would take the Duchessa and Malachi would take the defectors. Once Azazelle had the Duchessa she would then join Malachi. Malachi headed straight towards the Duchessa’s private apartment. The soldier informed them that the traitors frequented three places; the dispatch room, the Duchessa’s private chambers and the game room.

Malachi checked the dispatch room first.

Empty.

He could hear laughter as he marched on to the game room. He pushed the door open to another empty room but the laughter was closer now, louder. The traitors were in the Duchessa’s private chamber. Through the crack in the door he could see the fireplace was lit. He saw the foot of a gentleman cross over his leg. Malachi entered the room slowly and with confidence.

Azazelle made her way to the safe haven. She descended a staircase lit only by sconces with single candles sat atop of every 14th and 15th step. The stair lead her down to a very well lit corridor lined with atleast 10 wooden doors all reinforced with steel lattices. All of which were decoys, the entrance to the safe haven was no door at all. It was a solid block of stone that required 5 men to move. “Look for the family crest, two stones down is where you will need to push” Azazelle recalled the soldier telling her. “Family crest. Family crest” she muttered aloud. Azazelle finally finds the family crest upon the wall and pushes the stone wall back. All sorts of chatter happens when as Azazelle enters “Alas!” “Thanks be to the Gods” The candles in the candelabras they were using to light the room were almost completely burnt out so they were unable to see Azazelle clearly. When she did not respond to them their concern grew. “Your grace are you hurt?” The lone guard in the room lit more candles to properly light the room. There were three women who almost looked identical all wearing the same pastel yellow dress with the same hairstyle. Which one of them was The Duchessa? Azazelle thought. Surely none of them. They couldn’t be, they were referring to her as ‘Your grace’. Azazelle decided to step out of the darkness they all gasped. “Do not draw that weapon” she warns, the guard removes his hand from his sword. “I am not here for any of you. You must leave now unless you wish to die” Her eyes conveyed her truthfulness but also gave warning, they knew if they spoke of her presence they would die. The three ladies rushed out of the room and the guard started to follow. Azazelle placed her hand on his chest as he tried to walk past her. He looked at her with frightened eyes. “Your weapon” she requested. The guard’s hands were shaking terribly. He was barely unable to unfasten the belt he had his sword hung on. “Easy. I will not harm you” The guard calmed himself enough to remove the sword and hand it to Azazelle. “Go. Ensure they make it out safely” She gestured with a nod towards the hallway.

Once the guard had departed Azazelle hurried to push the door closed once more. She would wait there until The Duchessa arrived. Surely it wouldn’t be long. Not long it was, in a matter of minutes there were men on the other side of the wall grunting to push it open for the Duchessa. “Hurry men please!” The Duchessa urged them. Azazelle waited in the shadows. “Are you certain this safe haven is impenetrable? There are doors on either side of this entry” stated one of the guards. “Positive, the doors are real but just beyond them there are walls” “Faux rooms? Very clever Your Grace” said the same guard. “Very clever indeed” Azazelle agreed, stepping into the light.

The laughter between the two gentleman ceases when they notice Malachi has entered the room. “Who are you?” the gentleman in the maroon frock sitting to Malachi left inquired. “He looks familiar” his white coated comrade said as he stroked his chin. “That house that had all the death dealers slaughtered like pigs. What was it called?” Malachi’s anger blazed like the fireplace while the two gentleman regarded at each other. “Léon was it not?” “Yes” the voice of the white coated man trailed off. “Yes it was Léon” an egotistical smile grew on his face. The two glanced at each other once again. Simultaneously they began to laugh, a deep hearty laugh. It infuriated Malachi even more. “The camorra sent Shadow Killers?” “Must’ve been extremely desperate to send the likes of you” continued to laugh condescendingly. The traitors were not in the slightest bit afraid of Malachi. In fact, they were more comfortable now than they were when he first walked in.

Malachi walked to the fireplace, placed the poker in the flame and returned to stand in front of the traitors. “Where is the Duchessa?” asks Malachi. “Are you sure you do not want to flee?” the maroon clad man asked in reply. “Suit yourself martyr. Our guards will be here any moment to kill you” “Ah, but that is where you are wrong” replied Malachi. There was a commotion outside of the room. The sound of bodies hitting the floor echoed of the walls in the private chamber. The two traitors looked at Malachi eyes wide. “Surely you did not think I would come alone?” a sinister grin grew on Malachi’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were entering the Duchessa’s private apartment. A group of soldiers were using her dispatch room to regroup I presume. Malachi and I had caused quite the fuss. “If you scream, I will kill you. If you run, I will kill you. Sit here silently.” I had bound her hands and silenced her with a piece of lace that I removed from her dress. She sat while tears pooling up in her eyes.

The human body has pressure points that when struck properly will cause you to lose consciousness. That is the approach I chose. After all these men may have wives, children and loved ones that expect them to come home. I had taken enough lives tonight.

It wasn’t as easy as I had hoped it would be. I was outnumbered after and whereas I was using non-lethal force these soldiers were trying to kill. However, one by one their bodies fell to the floor with loud thuds. The last soldier fell into a table causing what one would presume was a very fine very valuable vase of china to crash to the ground. When turned around the Duchessa was standing there wide eyed. “My apologies” I said softly.

When the Duchessa and I entered the room there were two gentleman staring at us with shocked faces. Malachi turned to me, he was not the kind faced kind hearted Malachi I was used to. His face was cold, his dark eyes ablaze with fury. “Azazelle, what do you say we tie these two up and have a bit of fun?”

The gentleman sat willingly in the chairs I had brought to the middle of the room. They even placed their hands behind their backs willingly. I found the whole situation a bit, odd. But we had a mission to accomplish so it mattered not how uncomfortable I felt or if I had any reservations about it. Malachi tossed me some gold rope used to draw the drapes to tie the men up. Naturally I would have to tie the knot tight enough for them not to break free. I bound the man in maroon then moved on to the next. “Careful darling, not too tight. I am already aroused by the sight of you. Keep teasing me like this and I might…” Malachi’s fist promptly met the man’s face mid sentence. “Enough of your filth. Never disrespect a woman” The man collected the blood in his mouth and spit it on Malachi’s shoe. Malachi smiled, removed his shoe and wiped the blood on the man’s white breeches. All this pettiness was going to get us nowhere so I decided to take action.

“Tell me Duchessa, what were your dealings with these two men here. A woman as well off as you has no need for more coin. Ladies such as yourself deal in different currencies. Power and secrets…” I walked behind her and removed the lace from her mouth. “So tell me…” I ran my knife down the side of her face and across her throat. “What secrets have you been told?” “I do not know any secrets. I have been told nothing” she replied immediately.

The Duchessa was truly scared for her life but I thought it would be wise to atleast try to extract some information from her first. Ultimately I knew the Duchessa would not disclose any information to us while the traitors were present so I was not surprise by her response. It was time for more creative measures. “Yess” he hissed. “Come play with me” he smirked. Malachi took a step forward and I put my hand on his chest to stop him. I gave him an ever so slight nod and a wink to which he nodded with an understanding smile of his own. I approached the gentleman spinning my knife if my hand. “What did you tell her?” I asked. “I have given it some thought, perhaps the camorra wanted you to die and that is why they sent you?” “The mighty Shadow Killers” the other mocked. I laughed. “Oh yeah, You like that?” He teased. “I do. Quite funny actually” Once i was close enough I stabbed the knife deep into his leg and femoral artery. He cried out in pain. I turned to his partner and looked him dead in the eyes as I twisted the knife in the man’s leg. He began to wince as his partners screams intensified. “I will never tell you anything” he growled. “Azazelle, I think he’s right. Which means we have no need for him” With one swift kick to the face Malachi had broken the man’s neck. The Duchessa let out an ear piercing shriek when she saw his neck and head sitting in at a 90 degree angle. “AURELIO NO!” shouted his friend.

I could tell that Malachi enjoyed that. To me this was an assignment and nothing more but to Malachi this meant more. These men had betrayed the very secrets of his being. For Malachi, this was personal.

I withdrew the knife with a twist, blood began gushing from his leg. I walked to the fireplace and removed the fire poker. Heat was emanating from the glowing tip of iron. “No no wait!” he shouted. His screams filled the room along with nauseating smells of burnt flesh, hair and blood when I touched iron to his leg. “Ready to talk now?” I asked removing the hot iron from his wound. Breathing heavily. “No? What about you Duchessa?” I looked back her. She was sitting with perfect posture but her eyes were divulging her truth. She would not be able to watch much more of this. I stabbed his leg again and he cried out once more in agony. Again I cauterized the wound with the blazing hot fire poker. I did this three more time and the man was close to losing consciousness. I lifted the knife once more to pierce him and finally she broke. “Please no, he cannot take anymore” she whimpered. “I will tell you everything, please. No more” I dropped the knife and the poker. “We are listening” I said wiping the blood from my hands with the handkerchief of one of the traitors.

The one remaining traitor sat in silence with his head hung low as the Duchessa disclosed everything. He had no energy to protest nor did he feel it necessary. He knew what this meant for him.

After she had told us everything she knew. Malachi spoke.

“For your silence and his treachery you both must pay” he said coldly.

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falkberg · 7 years ago

Text

The Bluejacket II - Phantasma

Tales Beyond the Veil IX

Through the leaded glass, my eyes would not believe what I head, when the spotter talked of tiny dots, crewmen jumping from the ship. Then, in less than a second, the vessel vanished from my view. A glimpse of darkness and it was gone, swallowed by waves, that jumped high into a watery spire. Where the ship had been just moments ago, a maelstrom opened its churning maw, ready to swallow what survivors there could be. The spotters yelled in disbelief before I could even question my eyes. Astounded, that the outlandish word of the incoming squadron was true, new orders were given out to prepare for maritime salvage. Ships in distress had to be aided, their men were to be rescued, regardless of force. Whatever animosity was left in these times dwindled at the sight of such tragedy. The admiral had decided, and former enemies were to join forces against something, that had clearly overpowered the matters of man. The invincible made a sharp turn and I could feel the massive body of the ship slowly lean leeward, as the man at the helm threw his weight behind the new course. As the ship veered against the waves, it clearly began to match speed with the incoming armada, that was now signaling at such rapid intervals, that I the flashes were erratic in nature. I could only assume that the German crews were in a panic after one of their vessels had been swallowed whole. Their formation only barely retained an orderly line, from which weapons were fired occasionally. Somehow, their gunners followed shapes moving in the fog. In the glowing, ever turning turmoil that had been lain upon the ocean, they were hunting phantoms that could be more easily seen from afar. Our spotters directed our own view towards the massive columns of smoke, that had risen like the clouds of a thunderstorm, only much darker, and with an unnatural brownish color. When I now heard the thunder, I could see flashes of light on the enemy vessels and far behind, in the foggy banks. Initially, it seemed as if the enemy gun crews were wasting shells, hitting nothing but waves beyond the horizon. But every now and then, the thundering tone was different. The initial blast of guns firing was then followed by a reverberating echo, as if the shells had hit and resonated with a massive, cast iron bell, that was hidden beneath the encroaching mist. Whenever that happened, the German ships rapidly changed their course and signaled us to do the same. Their method seemed random, without correlation. But given what they had seen, the officers did not question the decision. We were soon part of a deadly dance on high seas, in a game the rules of which we did not understand.

With every mile they approached, the incoming ships revealed more details of a decrepit state, the likes of which I had never before seen on an active ship. Wherever these vessels were hailing from, their journey had been one of the heavy seas.

The erstwhile prideful ships had been worn down on their flight towards the Falkland Isles. Their white and light gray hulls showed darker markings as if something had tainted their armor with unduly age. Castle-like superstructures were dangerously slanting and damaged in some places. Gaping holes in decks and batteries told of extensive battle damage. However, no signs of explosions or larger fires were to be seen. It was as if not shells, but massive boulders had hit the warships with blunt force. High above, on faltering masts, their remaining flags were scuffed hung from loose ropes instead of flying proudly on the wind. Despite their charge towards the shores, these vessels had something about them that reminded me of ghost ships. Stories of wreckage, refusing to sink, yet beyond the world of the living, had always filled me with fascination. As I watched them now, minute after minute struggling against the hostile tides, I could not help but wonder how many of their sailors were still left aboard, or if the bridge crews were the last survivors of what had come to haunt their fleet.

I had not much time to dwell on thoughts. Around me, the world was tense and awaiting judgment by the admiral. Fire upon them or their invisible enemies. Whoever had to make that call hesitated long enough, for the time to feel like centuries. The spectacular wrecks had come close enough to distinguish details on their battered hull. We were not maneuvering to intercept anymore. Instead, the Invincible had set its curse to rescue those who had been thrown from their ships. Only boxes and barrels and a few overturned life boats were left as traces of the supply vessel. Running parallel to the bland banks of fog, cruisers of two different squadrons fell in line, the mighty warships of the British navy taking the lead, whilst the German vessels swung around to keep in their lee. I could only guess what talks had occurred on the commanding decks. Certainly, Port Stanley would not let them in and our slower ships of the line would open fire on any potential hostile moving in. So to stand and fight alongside unlikely allies was the only option left to them. Although I did not believe that they were intimidated by our feeble display of power. They were merely smart enough to know, that whatever had followed them here, would not stop on the shores of this island.

A small coal tender succumbed to the waves soon after. The rolling ship was forcefully veered off its curse and descended deep between wave peaks. The crew immediately shot a blood-red signal flare into the sky. To my surprise, it was swallowed by the clouds and quelled. It almost looked like a giant hand had simply closed around the glowing light and blew it out like a candle. But the vessels captain did not give up without a fight. Howling, the ship's engines roared against the unknown force, that held onto the massive hull. The supply ship had been emptied over the squadrons long and taxing journey, so that it now stood high above the waves. For a moment, it seemed to rise even further, climbing a wall of surging water. But then, the waves crest moved on and the ship's hull crashed hard into the wave through. Something broke inside and the vessel began to turn over, spewing air and shards of glass through all portholes. Before it sank, the hull stood up, almost straight like a tower, and was illuminated by raging firestorms where the boilers exploded with a loud, echoing noise. Just a few more seconds the ship remained above the water, then it sank fast, dragged by forces beneath the waves, that eagerly took the metal hulk in their deadly, cold embrace. Only a circle of waves slowly protruding from where the steamer had been, reminded the sailors of their comrade's vile fate. One could not be so hopeful as to believe that the ship had simply sunk. Too quickly had the hull given way and within minutes broken down completely. Massive eruptions of escaping air bubbled up through the waves, producing deep and guttural noise. Where our lights skimmed the surface, we could see remnants of the crew moving and riving in panic.

All batteries were instructed to turn larboard, keeping watch for any unusual movement among the clouds. It was a futile task for those on the lookout because nothing about this mist was usual in any way. Pale lights, clouds that swallowed signal maroons and the waves that lifted us at once, just to plunge the ship down into the sea – all of it was beyond our own experience. The vague instructions spoke volumes about our officers own perplexity. There were no rules in the books on scenarios such as this, so we kept our guns on what we had to expect was an enemy and awaited the further command. While the gun crews were condemned to inactivity, the foredeck sprang into action. Our sailors had taken on oilskins and went on deck like ancient priests in heavy robes. In their hands they bore heavy ropes and nets, that was quickly tied to the railing, to pull sailors in distress aboard. Behind our backs, the ship's boats and longboats were hastily prepared. Clanking noises from little cranes and chains rang through the ships hull and we heard distinctly the sharp hiss of additional distress maroons being launched into the sky. Through my tiny window, I could see the sky being lit by nothing but these man-made stars. Outside, the world was dark and cold. The daylight seemed to back away from this storm and what little twilight remained was muddied by dense fog and the constant ocean spray. Aboard, all lanterns had been lit again and our searchlights were directed forward, into the fog. Soon, the invincible did too erupt into a light, glowing like a beautiful chandelier on black seas. In the hard contrast of light and dark, the seamen worked towards rescue, searching the sea for any survivors, facing waves and wind defiantly. Somehow, their efforts were rewarded. Slowly but surely, the Inflexible ran closer towards the watery graves of sailors, turning into the waves and slowing its speed. Small boats were carefully launched, but kept on long ropes and only manned with a few, to extend the reach of our efforts in the heavy sea. I and my gunmen were glad not stay outside, where the waves seemed to crash increasingly violently. The armored box of ours turned smoothly and I rose both barrels into the sky. With nothing to see but the white specters of this twining fog, I aimed for shadows that appeared and disappeared in every minute. My efforts were reflected by the fleet's command. Clumsily, the two squadrons coordinated their maneuvers against an invisible enemy line, entwined in a dance at the edge of white tendrils of this mist. Whilst the smaller cruisers formed a loose line, the battlecruisers had taken the lead and were now carefully closing in on the spot, where many lives had been taken. One after another, they shot more flares into the sky that united above our heads in a sea of stars, slowly burning out in the heavy mist. In the end, they only struggled to keep their distance and sent out boats towards the deadly waters that had taken two ships. But those journeys to the ship's demise were fruitless and soon abandoned. Despite all ropes connecting and holding the boats, two followed soon in the sailors watery grave. The others retreated from the uneasy sea and churning waters, fighting against the waves with force. Twelve men aboard our ship were needed, to retrieves the ropes on massive winches, and they struggled against the weight and wind. With no chance for boats to reach any further, the Inflexible slowly maneuvered closer, throwing lines and nets outward to catch whatever was left of the lost ship and its crew. For long, straining minutes, the nets were pulled back empty, and the brave seamen leaning overboard with long rods and hooks had no luck in catching survivors. Time and again they refrained from the railing when a large breaker crushed against the ship. When the saltwater washed over our deck, it left peculiar gifts of the sea behind. A shoe, remnants of wooden crates and loose swimming vests were caught on our deck as if to mock the endeavors of our crew. The men were close to giving up when suddenly a commotion erupted on the starboard side. A net, attached to large winches, had caught something larger, bigger than expected. The ropes were taut and would not budge against the heavy weight that pulled them down. Massive waves erupted from below. The sea itself struggled against the ship and pulled the ropes down, despite cork swimmers and our crews best efforts. More and more sailors gathered around and even officers jumped down onto the forecastle to grab onto the winches. Orders were shouted in all directions and they waved their hands in disbelief. With the storm too loud to hear, I could only see the men rushing towards the railing and waving the hooks to come closer, helping to pull something up from below. Holding onto winches and ropes, the men pulled in unison and achieved slow, reluctant movement. In rhythmic, well-trained motions they pulled the ropes upward and brought something onto the deck, that I could barely see the crowd. Had the men kept close, it would have been utterly impossible to spot their catch, but instead, the sailors recoiled and covered their faces. A stench must have been, that had them flee the scene. Some, that had hooks impelled in the thing, now let their hooks fall down or struggled to pull them out. Others tried to push back against the thing, that now, as it had finally been forced into motion, seemed not to stop on the foredeck alone. It took not much guessing for me to understand what it was that these men saw. I recognized it, at first sight, the riving, moving mass that only the deepest ocean could have born. The black speech, a mass of nauseating, living things expanded on the deck and seemingly grew out of nothing. Where it caught the wood of the deck, planks seemed to fall apart from old age and the weight of the speech. Quick-witted officers did not hesitate for long. The sharp bang of guns discharging was heard all over the deck and others ordered the ship's guards to form a firing just before our turret. Some of the sailors grabbed lamps and opened the valves to the highest flame. As they threw the lanterns, the shining light flickered and shortly enveloped the thing on the deck, that stretched out tendrils like the fog around us. When the flames finally hit, ignited the black mass like resin and quickly covered it with a glowing fire. Waves came and went, flooded the deck and retreated, but the fire stayed, slowly burning through the sticky mass and the deck itself. The crews were far from done and at every second, I awaited orders to join the crews in their fight against this fire. With brooms, shovels and anything they could find, they pushed shriveling, riving shreds of the burning mass into the ocean, where it exploded in white steam and froth. But our orders were different. The commanding crew shouted them angrily over the storm. The order to open fire was just what we'd been waiting for. And guided by invisible hands or a sixth sense, I knew my target as soon as I saw. Just above the waterline, a shadow, moving like the fins of a colossal shark. The cannons fired and the loud, resounding bang cleared my head with a single blow. Recoil had the barrels jump and air thrust into my lungs with hot, steaming force. Glowing shells fell from the barrels and the loading crew yelled orders to reload both shells. All the while, I followed the shadow and the place, where the sea erupted into simultaneous explosions, just where the fin had been. Eagerly, I awaited confirmation by the spotter, but the crews above were busy with the fire slowing eating away on our ship. Oily smoke erupted from the black mass and the sea below, where the black mass had been thrown. Instead of retrieving their nets, the sailors were now hacking away at the heavy material with hatchets and cutlasses. But now, I had no time to worry about their strife. All that mattered was this turret and the next shot. Half a minute had passed, before the next salvo erupted with rejuvenated force. Armor piercing ammunition shot through the sky, howling in a high arc through the sky. The spotters followed and marked the position of our hits. Numbers were shouted in my ear and I hastily adjusted our elevation. Until we'd fire for effect, there was no chance of hitting whatever was hidden beneath the white turmoil that was this storm. The ship leaned forward, upward and fell, scenting through ocean foam and spray. All the while, the barrels danced, just over the horizon. The naval gun turned slightly, five-hundred tons of dedicated weaponry, seeking the enemy to destroy the source of the black tar on our deck.

Time and again I could see and hear the lightning strikes of naval artillery firing, but the ships and their targets remained out of sight. Our allies had taken on the battle now at full force. German naval cannons spewed the last of their ammunition against the faceless, massive wall that had chased them here. While they were still their latest transmission, the ships erupted in muzzle fire and smoke. When their turrets fired, a snapshot of the vessels was outlined against the pitch black sea. Despite all damage done, the ships fired at the almost full force and arced their shots with admirable precision. Five cruisers fired, slightly offset and soon our salvos formed a constant staccato in the night, our contribution to the symphony of war that the unknown force beyond the fog directed. Some of the light was reflected on clouds, other seemed to swallow the bright blasts without any effect. Most shells disappeared without a trace, but some exploded, seemingly midair, as if they had hit resistance in the fog where none should be. Whenever a target was hit, I could feel my muscles tense and my heart makes a jump. These were the times when I felt proud to throw the empires wrath against the enemy, whatever it was. Our loading crews kissed every shell, patted it and guided it into the barrel. When the heat of another shot exploded just beside us, I felt sweat on my face. My eyes were wide open, searching for the impact. Through the smoke and burning tar, I finally saw our shells exploding, crashing into an invisible war with full kinetic force. Nothing else mattered. Before the spotter even recognized, we confirmed fire for effect and trained all guns on the elusive target.

When battle ensued, our turreted battery became a well-oiled machine, a unit working together with precision and a deeply ingrained rhythm. I felt movement behind my back, where the loading crew was preparing the next set of shells for a salvo. The air was filled with the pungent smell of powder, hot metals, and oil. From the outside, a more hostile, acidic nidor seeped in, poisoning the routine that we knew so well from previous maneuvers. It was the black mass burning on the forecastle, burning through the deck ship's walls. Concentration Forcing myself to keep my eyes on a target, I compensated the slow rise and fall of the ship and fired at once, as the order was given to switch to salvo fire. A single gun port behind us gave off a shot. Lightning appeared in the darkness, shortly before the high explosive shell detonated somewhere on swirling tendrils. In an instant, all remaining guns were fired, including the turreted weapon of hours. The full barrage hit in the distance, closely followed by shots of hour sister ship. The Invincible, proud and glorious, stood high above the surging waves and unleashed a thunderstorm with her cannons. Mechanical clanks and rattling followed, before the next salvo was fired, mere forty seconds later. The two battle cruisers found their cadence, resembling a giant, mechanical heartbeat. Constant fire from the remaining line of battle joined into their destructive symphony and it was hard to imagine how anything could withstand such powerful forces.

High above, the spotters were speechless. For the longest time, all they saw was a moving scheme in the dark, a shape that resisted gunfire and artillery shells. Only after fifteen minutes of continued bombardment, I heard the raspy voice of our outlook speak up. His words, just as the guns fired once more, were overpowered by mechanical thunder. When he repeated his words, I already felt the helmsman's reaction. The Inflexible suddenly sheered off. The change in course was easily felt, as soon as our angle against the ocean waves changed and the ship began terribly pitch. Hearty curses of the gun crews echoed through the turret and our magazine. Hundreds of pounds worth of ammunition were unexpectedly set in motion by the sudden pitch. Our spotter repeated his report a third time. Something in the fog had broken down.

I saw with my own eyes through leaded glass, what the spotter was describing with a dry tongue. A tower falling from the sky, a mechanical limb of immeasurable height, encrusted in entire reefs of kelp and coral, that had been pummeled by heavy artillery for a quarter of an hour. Where high explosive shells had hit, the corals and metal plating were broken and revealed bleached and steaming hot material, that fell from the sky like rain. A black, thick mass in heavy, viscous drops, dropped from joints and cracks in the surface, immediately recognizable as the same stuff that had taken over our deck. The riving mass of worms and primeval crustaceans formed an endless steam into the sea, as the tower was leaning forward, breaking at the thinnest spot and finally collapsed in our direction. Torn segments crashed into the sea with such force, that their waves sprayed over our railings and turreted gun batteries. Salty water crackled and cooked where it hit the black, smoldering mass on deck and retreated as hot steam into the air. The Invincible was not so lucky. The massive tower had been felt by one of her last salvos and now, losing structure and stability in the storm, the colossal mechanical limb fell swiftly in their direction. With my own eyes, I saw the battle cruiser veer hard, diving into waves and forcing a new course against the tides. Despite all this, they could not escape the falling giant. The tower hit, and where it hit the water, it was boiling in steam. A wave of spray obscured our view and seconds later, when the water finally settled, we could see the Invincible struggling against the weight of the tower pressing down on her heck, forcing it underwater and slowly rolling off, dragged down by the weight of the remaining segments. The riving black mass flowing out of the tower remained while the fallen segment skid down the aftermost deck of the vessel, ripping decks and the superstructure apart.

#tales #beyond the veil #lovecraftian #horror #story

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quicksilversquared · 5 years ago

Text

Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff

Hawkmoth was defeated years ago, and the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous were recovered without a problem. The superheroes still have some occasional foes, but no akuma. Which leaves one burning question, especially after the Rabbit Miraculous gets damaged: what about Timetagger??

Enter superhero shenanigans in order to set the timeline right.

links in the reblog

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Bunnyx stood in a circle, staring at the broken Miraculous between them. They were silent, minds blank in disbelief.

The Rabbit Miraculous was broken, and they had no idea how to fix it.

It hadn't happened during an akuma fight- those days were long over, with Gabriel Agreste (and Nathalie Sancoeur) defeated and locked up in jail and the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous recovered, restored and kept safely stored under the Guardian's protection- but rather during a fight with a completely different sorcerer, the latest in a long line of different magic users who had their eyes on the Miraculous and wanted to steal the power for their own. That meant that there was no Miraculous Cure, and no clear way to fix the Rabbit. The Rabbit, their last-resort emergency fighter. A powerful fighter and ally. A Miraculous, an ancient relic that had been around and survived for millennia...

In short: it was really, really bad.

"Any ideas?" Bunnyx asked after a minute, turning her Miraculous over in her hand. It- well, it didn't look good. It didn't look normal. "I mean, we know how this would have gotten fixed if there was still a Hawkmoth around. Or a Butterfly, at least. But that's not the case anymore, because we didn't screw up beating Hawkmoth."

"I am so sorry," Chat Noir told her with a wince. "I really didn't think that the sorcerer would vanish like that. And I probably shouldn't have charged at him with Cataclysm anyway, I know better than that."

"I know, I know, and that still doesn't fix the Miraculous." She glanced over at Ladybug. "Any ideas, Spots?"

"Maybe," Ladybug said slowly, her brow furrowing as she contemplated- well, it looked like she was deeply contemplating the branch of a tree, or perhaps the leaves or a caterpillar on it, but she was probably actually contemplating the problem at hand and the branch just happened to be more or less in front of her. "There's something about this whole thing that's just- it's weird. I mean, even though we succeeded at getting Hawkmoth's Miraculous and I know for a fact that Nooroo and his Miraculous are still in the box, we haven't forgotten about Timetagger. Like, if the timeline changed- wouldn't we forget, don't you think?"

There was a pause as they thought about that.

"That is weird," Chat Noir said slowly. "Do you- do you think that it still happens somehow? Like, the Butterfly gets out somehow and goes bad and somehow it ends up helping us?"

Bunnyx frowned. "That's a lot of somehows . And I don't know. With a changed timeline, our memories should have changed, too. So somehow, Timetagger has to happen."

"That was what I was thinking, too," Ladybug said, crossing her arms in thought and frowning. "So what if- what if we akumatize Chris? But- hm. There was still a butterfly purified, so we have to use the power like Hawkmoth did so that the Cure actually works. And Timetagger acted like a regular akuma- a really strong regular akuma, not like someone playing a part- except... well, he hesitated at the end. He could have pounced and grabbed our Miraculous instead of waiting for us to come to him, but he waited a really long time instead. Like he wasn't planning on getting them at all. So we have to figure out why that happened like it did."

Bunnyx gasped, snapping her fingers and pointing at Ladybug. "I have an idea! So, you know how I went back in time and learned a whole bunch of stuff from a sorcerer once, when we were trying to recover some of the information that's been lost over the years?"

"Yeah, you came back and wouldn't stop oohing and ahhing over modern food and flush toilets and all that jazz, just to be annoying and rub it in that you got to go," Chat Noir said with a sigh. "What about it?"

"Shush, Miraculous-destroyer." Bunnyx turned her attention to Ladybug, excitement in her voice. "One of the things that I learned was hypnotism. If we akumatized Chris, I could hypnotize him to get him to believe whatever we wanted him to- he would think he had been akumatized by a new, smarter Hawkmoth. And then we would freak out Old Hawkmoth and make him all paranoid-"

"I think I remember Timetagger saying something about that," Ladybug said slowly, frowning in thought. "And we could put in a failsafe pause before he actually takes the Miraculous, even though we know how the fight went. We would have to ask his permission before akumatizing him and hypnotizing him, because the ethics of that would be seriously sketchy otherwise, but I bet that he would be willing. He's always been a fan of the superheroes, after all."

Bunnyx snorted. "Yeah, that's a pretty safe bet. After all, we still remember the attack, so clearly in the past future, he agreed to having his head messed with."

Chat Noir groaned. "You know, sometime I think that you're enjoying all this weird time stuff a little too much."

"What, can't keep up, pussy-cat?"

Ladybug could only sigh.

Perhaps surprisingly, they were not trying to exactly replicate the (presumed) circumstances of the Timetagger fight. Even with all of her magical knowledge, both historical and contemporary, Bunnyx wasn't terribly keen on the idea of getting sent back several thousand years and having to wait out the return to present time, even if she was going to be in a magical coma most of that time. A shorter wait would have been better, and she still could sneak into the Louvre and magically plant herself in the same artifact, no problem. Ladybug had raised an eyebrow at that- it seemed like messing with the timeline wasn't a fabulous idea, even if it was a relatively small tweak (if it was a tweak at all, that was)- but agreed to let Bunnyx try it anyway. After all, Bunnyx was the expert on time travel, not her, and if Bunnyx thought it would work then, well, then Bunnyx could try it.

"So I think we're ready," Bunnyx told them as they gathered inside the Louvre, steering Chris in front of them. Alya, who had been tapped to play the part of the Butterfly for the process, had already gone ahead, down to one of the offices where she could talk to Nooroo and figure out her powers. "I've gotten my permission, I've read over all my notes for hypnosis, Alya just texted to say that she's gotten all of the information that she needs to akumatize Chris, I've recorded a video so that I won't forget everything about my life and what I was doing before all this because I remember my older self not remembering exact details of the fight-"

Ladybug frowned. "Do you think that's likely? After all, you said that you were going to put yourself in magical suspension right away. In theory, it should feel like less than 24 hours for you." She paused, then frowned. "...wait, do you have to travel to Egypt, too? Or did Timetagger's powers move people from time and space?"

Bunnyx shrugged. "I don't know. I talked to Fluff before all this happened, and she thought that the forgetting some of what happened during the fight was mostly due to the time-travel nature of it and my dual selves being in the same place at the same time. That, and it happened- what? Ten years ago? So she doesn't think that I'll forget everything else about my life. I just wanted to be safe."

Ladybug nodded. That made sense. As much sense as time travel ever made, that was.

"So I guess we'll get started, then," Bunnyx said, clapping Chris's shoulder. "All ready?"

Chris nodded, eyes narrowed in determination. "Ready."

"Good! Now you two, shoo," Bunnyx ordered, waving away Ladybug and Chat Noir. "I don't want you distracting me." She grinned. "See you in a couple thousand years."

Ladybug and Chat Noir shooed, but they didn't go far. After all, if anything went seriously wrong with the hypnosis or akumatization, they needed to be ready to step up and intervene. They circled around behind Bunnyx, watching as she got set up. Chris watched, surprisingly not nervous as she worked around him.

"Am I the only one who has some concerns about this whole hypnosis thing?" Chat Noir asked Ladybug quietly as they got settled, watching Bunnyx on the video feeds that they had set up around the Louvre. The entire area had been closed for the day upon the superheroes' request, which meant that there were no civilians around to accidentally get in the way or distract them on other feeds. "Like, I know she learned it, but mix that magic with the magic from the akumatization and that just doesn't seem like a very good combination."

"I did wonder if it might make more sense to do the hypnosis after akumatizing Chris, but Bunnyx seemed convinced that it would be better to do it this way, and that the Butterfly's magic wouldn't overpower the Rabbit's." Ladybug frowned in concentration as she watched their main feed. "I mean, so far..."

They waited.

"Bunnyx isn't looking quite as confident as I thought she would," Chat Noir commented with a frown, several minutes in. On screen, Bunnyx was frowning as she watched the swirling magic around Chris. "I wonder if something isn't working out right."

Ladybug sucked in a sharp breath. "Chat Noir- her Miraculous is broken. I wonder- I bet that means that her hypnosis doesn't have as much power behind it as she thought it would. She's not going to have nearly as much control as she planned over what he does."

Chat Noir leaned forward, frowning as he watched. "Maybe we should have tried it without the hypnotism, with Chris just acting like a supervillain. We could have had him practice his acting here first, before going back in time. Either that, or tried it, had it not be convincing to us, and at least known that we went for the less dangerous option first."

Ladybug groaned. "Maybe we could have. It's just that Timetagger already happened, and we know it worked, and we're used to akuma villains, and- okay, I'm tired, otherwise I would have tried to think of some way of doing it without the hypnotism. I think I forgot that Hawkmoth could akumatize people without their emotions being too high for them to resist. We still could have had the evilized butterfly."

Chat Noir pulled her into his arms as she slumped in exhaustion. "Yeah, we probably should have taken a day or two off before making any plans. And I know it's because we don't know when Vladimir will try to strike again and we need all of the Miraculous up and working, but we were all so tired when we came up with this plan."

Ladybug curled up against his side. "Can we go down for a nap after this? I'm so tired and Monday I have a meeting to go to with an investor and I actually need to be awake for that."

"That sounds like a plan. I'll even throw in some kitty cuddles and purring. That always helps you sleep better."

On camera, Bunnyx had finished her hypnosis. She looked less than certain about it now, and that was not a typical look on her. Normally, Bunnyx was confident and sure.

Clearly the hypnosis wasn't going nearly as smoothly as planned. That probably explained why that akuma had been so tough, because he wasn't nearly as under control as Bunnyx wanted.

"Should we stop them?" Chat Noir asked, frowning. "Maybe see if a second round of hypnotism would help pull things more under her control?"

"If it would, I think Bunnyx would do that," Ladybug decided after a moment's pause. "She's the expert on hypnosis, after all, and she knows that if she doesn't do this right, she'll be going straight back to Ancient Egypt. We should stay out of her way."

She hoped that she was making the right call. Bunnyx might be confident, but she wasn't reckless- not as her superhero self, at least. If she thought that the hypnosis had too loose of a hold on Chris, she wouldn't continue.

That was what Ladybug hoped, at least. And she had to trust her teammates.

"Here comes the akuma from Alya, right on schedule," Chat Noir reported. "...she had a different name picked out, right?"

"Yeah, something that wouldn't give us away right away." Ladybug shifted forward, watching as the familiar dark cloud enveloped Chris. She hadn't seen it in so long, and it really hadn't been missed. "And there's Timetagger. Bunnyx is headed for the stairs and he's following- either she's acting or she's really properly concerned, I can't tell which."

"Can Alya pull the akuma back if Timetagger goes completely off script?"

"I think so, yeah. At least when he's in the present time, I don't know about the past." Ladybug's eyes narrowed as she watched Bunnyx running, looking for any clues as to what was going on. Maybe they should pull back and reset, but Bunnyx would have gone for their anchor and snapped Timetagger out of it if she thought things were out of control.

In a flurry of color and noise, Bunnyx and Timetagger vanished out the front door.

Ladybug straightened, holding out a hand to pull Chat Noir up. "Okay, let's go quickly check on Alya and then move into position. Hopefully things just looked worse on camera."

It seemed as though Timetagger had well and truly forgotten that he wasn't actually one of Hawkmoth's akumas. Bunnyx had definitely been engaged in a fierce, no-holds-barred fight, and Ladybug and Chat Noir were left hovering at the fringes of the battle, trying to decide if the situation was out of control enough for them to step in. Bunnyx hadn't signaled to them, though, so they kept out of it.

And then Timetagger hit Bunnyx back through a portal.

"Ooh, that was Ancient Egypt," Ladybug said with a wince. "Just what she wanted to avoid. But the circle is complete now- and there goes Timetagger, back to our old fight. That date looks right, so I guess the hypnotism wasn't a complete fail. Just...not quite what Bunnyx wanted."

"And now we just have to wait," Chat Noir said, plopping down on the ground for a moment before immediately popping back up. "...probably should not be relaxing in hero form in the most exposed area of Paris."

Ladybug laughed. "No, probably not."

The wait was tense, but not long. A Rabbit portal appeared and Timetagger was knocked through, reappearing for only seconds before hopping through his own portal, paying no attention to the lingering superheroes. Only minutes later, Bunnyx appeared, a drag to her step and admissions of failure on her lips.

Fortunately for her, Ladybug perfectly remembered the Timetagger battle, and she remembered exactly what they had to do to tie up this whole shebang in a nice, neat bow. Timetagger was defeated with a little help from the future, Bunnyx escorted a rather disoriented Chris back to the present, and finally, finally, they got the hypnotism completely removed.

Chris looked a little worse for the wear after that, honestly, but it was hard to know if it was the hypnotism itself, the time travel, or some combination thereof. Alya took one look at him, announced that she would be bringing him straight back home, and returned the Butterfly Miraculous before taking off so that Chris could lay down for a bit to recover from the rather potent snarl of magic.

The rest of the superheroes let out a relieved sigh and headed back inside, going back into the Louvre and into Alix's father's office to detransform and relax a bit before going home.

"I honestly thought that I had screwed up the hypnosis enough to change everything," Alix said with a groan, flopping over an armchair sideways as soon as she released her transformation. She dug in her pocket, then tossed a carrot to Fluff. "Absolutely awful. That was so stressful. I mean, mini-us thought that we were super-awesome and so that was cool, and it was fun messing with Hawkmoth and teasing Kitten Noir when he asked about now-you, but then I was fighting on my own and Kitten Noir almost destroyed my Miraculous again."

"I said I was sorry!"

"I'm just glad that Mini-Bug is so creative. Like, if I got a pad of paper to save the day? I would have yelled at the universe, because how is that supposed to be helpful? Give me a giant gun or something. A sword. A grenade-"

Marinette laughed, even as she leaned tiredly against Adrien's side as they sat side-by-side on the bench in the room. "You have weapons on the mind. I like the less straightforward approach."

"Okay, after the day that I've had- the several thousand years that I've had- can you blame me for maybe not having the patience for your convoluted Lucky Charm plans?" Alix groaned even louder, sprawling out further. "Aliens and dinosaurs and people calling me a witch and chasing me with pitchforks before I could jump again and- ugh. I need a nap, and I still have to figure out how to figure out how to complete the circle."

Adrien and Marinette exchanged a puzzled look. "There's more?"

Alix groaned more at them. "Are you kidding me? The heirloom watch- I still have to figure out how that got to my ancestor!" She pulled out her second watch, with the crack still running across the case. "It has to get fixed somehow so that it can be used as a Miraculous, it needs to go back in time, I need to come up with a story- it's a lot. It's ridiculous, actually. I went in and asked my younger self for the ancestral watch like I knew it was going to work, but only because I had seen it done before."

Fluff blinked at her. "But isn't it obvious?"

"What- no, it's not obvious!" Alix sat up straight and stared at her kwami, who was chomping on a carrot while floating upside down. "How?"

"My Miraculous has been broken, and fixed, and broken, and fixed." Fluff spun in a circle, then swallowed the rest of the carrot whole. "It traveled through many yesterdays and tomorrows to become whole again, and the path was never linear."

"...what."

Tikki let out a sigh, glancing at her fellow kwami in exasperation. "We repaired the Miraculous, after it broke during Timebreaker. And it was a double dose of curing magic with two Lucky Charms, which restored the potential for it to be connected with a kwami. At the time, though, the Rabbit Miraculous was also in Master Fu's box and closer to Fluff, so that connection overrode the other, which is why you didn't get a kwami popping out as soon as you opened the watch after that."

Alix looked positively baffled. "How is it that your kwami is so straightforward with telling you what to do, but then you get completely baffling Lucky Charms, and then I get a kwami who is never straightforward and, uh..."

"Powers that are also baffling?" Adrien offered with a laugh. "Because the whole time travel thing is completely mind-boggling, don't even try to lie. Of course Fluff is going to speak in riddles."

"Yeah, well, okay-" Alix started, and then sighed. "Yeah, okay. It's a good mind game, at least, trying to puzzle stuff out. So..." She paused, then frowned in thought. "So that's how it got magically fixed, then. But it would take a watchmaker to fix this- oh! Obviously! My ancestor! I did some digging after Timetagger- well, Timetagger the first time around- and discovered that my ancestor who 'made' the watch was a very talented watchmaker! They must have repaired it after I brought it to them, and then it got passed down through the youngest member of the family."

Fluff looked pleased.

"And I could still do some hypnosis with it, and put myself into a crazy-long suspension, so clearly being broken didn't get rid of all of the magic in it," Alix continued, newly reenergized. "So that's how I planted the message in it."

"I'm still lost on where the Miraculous is, or was, or how many copies of it there are," Adrien complained. "You lost me."

"You get lost on time travel, but not physics? Marinette, your fiancé is strange."

Marinette laughed. "Yes, but I love him anyway."

"I'm still not hearing an answer to my question," Adrien prompted. A small grin had slid onto his face. "Should I assume that you don't actually know the answer and you're just putting it down to weird time stuff?"

Just as he had intended, Alix puffed up with a scowl. "No, I understand it! It makes perfect sense. After I got sent back, there were two copies of the Miraculous going forward- the original, and the broken one I was using. Then I'll bring the broken one back to my ancestor, too, and that'll make three existing at the same time, since I would still be in suspension in Egypt. Two weren't functional, though, until Timebreaker happened, and then we had one fully broken with Bunnyx in the Louvre, one with the potential to hold the Miraculous power with mini-me, and then the original, still in the box."

"O...kay?"

"And then we had Timetagger, and that three went down to one, because the broken one and the repaired one came back with me, leaving only the original, which you eventually gave to me. It got broken, all this nonsense happened, now we have two. I'll bring the broken one back to my ancestor, and then we'll be back to one." Alix smirked at Adrien. "Any questions?"

"How did you figure that out so fast?" Adrien demanded, frowning. "I mean, I follow- I think I do, at least- but gah. So much of this all is happening because it already happened, but how did we- you- whatever come up with the idea in the first place? Surely someone had to. I mean, otherwise that suggests that it was always destined to happen, which brings into question the whole free will and are things predestined, and-"

Alix just sniggered. "Oh my god, you're exhausting. Don't worry your little kitty brain about it, Cat-boy. It happened, it had to happen, it's going to happen, it will happen. I don't care what your studies say about time being linear. Just accept it."

"But-"

"You don't have to fully understand it for it to happen, Adrien. You should know that by now. How else do you explain your superpowers? There's no scientific explanation for that." Alix grinned at him, clearly knowing full well that he only had trouble wrapping his head fully around her time travel and the concept of concurrent parallel timelines. "It's wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, and it's useful. Don't question it."

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #alix kubdel #finish the alphabet challenge

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