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mcheang · 7 months

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The return of Amy Squirrel

“When the superintendent personally asks you to work at one of the worst schools…you say yes.”

Not only is Amy a more suspicious teacher than Ms Bustier, but she will be taking over Ms Bustier’s class while the latter is on maternity leave.

Now Amy may treat everyone like they are in kindergarten, but she has a history. She was forcibly transferred after her rival framed her for being on drugs. Said rival Elizabeth was now a guidance counselor but it galled Amy to be sent to Paris, aka the emotionally troubled city, to teach the akuma class, under false charges. In hindsight, she really should have returned Elizabeth’s desk after stealing it to check for drugs.

The unfairness and humiliation made Amy reflect on the situation and she vowed to be smarter, more prepared to see through such tricks.

Naturally, when it comes to Chloe’s bullying, Amy puts Chloe in a time out. When Chloe calls her father angrily, but Amy scolds her for talking to her father as if he is her servant. And Chloe is making her family look bad. Audrey happens to be near Andre when Amy says this and hearing this, agrees Claudine should be disciplined and gives Amy free reign. Until she is respectable, she isn’t a Bourgeois. Chloe is akumatized except Amy has a solution for this. While the butterfly is happily accepted by Chloe, Amy punches her, knocking her unconscious while Alya posts on her blog about the akuma so Ladybug has an excuse to come purify the butterfly.

Chloe: You punched me!

Amy: Your mother authorised me to use any means to make sure you don’t keep embarrassing her. Frankly, you losing again to Ladybug would be humiliating since it just enforces to your mother that you are a loser.

Chloe is stunned to see she has lost influential power. Aka she can be sent to detention and her parents won’t help her.

Now, Marinette is holding a car wash for a future field trip. Seeing Marinette’s clumsy and efficient record (she was practically doing half of Caline’s work for the pregnant lady), Amy did not mind. She minded however when Lila, who did not show up at the car wash at all, said she felt bad about not being able to help and volunteered to help with the money arrangements.

Marinette and Caline: Absolutely not

The class was stunned. Marinette was not expecting someone to be on her side.

Caline: I know your reputation for being charitable Lila, unfortunately it is that reputation that leads me to mistrust you with this. Mylene told me how you had donated the money she organised to your fundraiser for the poor instead of her preferred save the earth charity. While the cause is still noble, the donators wanted the money to go to the earth. I cannot risk you donating our fundraiser trip money to another one of your noble causes. If you are that worried about their causes, you can ask your class to help with another fundraiser, except Marinette and Alya, they need to help me plan the field trip.

Lila gritted her teeth. This immature teacher was a hindrance!

Amy had done her research on Lila too. A disturbing number of ailments and disorders, long leaves of absences with parent approval, and she was not unaware how the class catered to Lila by helping her copy notes, buy her lunch, carry her backpack, etc. All in all, Amy would not want to look before she leapt and think Lila a liar but she finds her suspicious. When she confides to Damocles, he mentions Lila’s lying disorder.

Amy: THAT’S BONKERS! And if she is telling the truth, how can you know when she lies, we need a proper authority figure to guide us on how to help accommodate Lila’s needs. We cannot trust the poor girl whose ability to distinguish fact from fiction is so hampered.

Damocles: I have tried reaching out to her mother, but she’s so busy, I’m afraid emails are allowed. Rest assured they are detailed.

Having dealt with Elizabeth, Amy was not discounting the possibility that the email was a fake.

Amy: May I see Mrs Rossi’s occupation? What job is more important than being here for her daughter.

Principal passed her a paper. “She’s the ambassador of Italy.“

Amy: And what does it mean for Italy if she cannot even be there for her child?

Principal had no idea how to respond to that.

Amy personally went to the embassy to talk to Mrs Rossi and boy was there some clarifications to be made.

If Amy was immature, Diplomat Rossi was oblivious/ignorant. The diplomat readily agreed to come with Amy and see the principal.

The next morning, Lila was called to the principal’s office where she was roundly scolded for lying and framing Marinette.

Damocles: Lila Rossi, you are hereby expelled.

Lila promptly runs away, to become Cerise. She has 2 more mothers to financially rely on.

Mrs Rossi speaks to the class and tells them the truth about Lila. She apologises to Marinette. She also asks that if Lila should contact them, to call her.

Only, Lila isn’t answering any of their calls.

Marinette is so thrilled with Amy handling her bullies. She is so much more efficient than Ms Bustier!

Her efforts were enough to get her promoted from substitute to main teacher.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml salt fic #lila is exposed #lila gets exposed #miraculous ladybug and bad teacher crossover

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thefamilyeldritchabomination · 1 year

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Chapter Fourteen: Mr. Pinstripe Suit Pt. 2

Hohenheim had somehow made his way behind both Dolly and Freddy with a less than amused expression on his perpetual frowning face. Van Hohenheim of Light was one of the greatest alchemists of all times and creator of the philosopher’s stone, being called something demeaning as a ‘DILF’ offended him deeply. Though his anger was geared towards Freddy for the objectifying comment, Hohenheim’s eyes were trained on the one called ‘Dolly’. That was the one Envy had been hovering over and frankly this made Hohenheim concerned, especially from what he experienced from Dante. Hohenheim had to figure out what to do before having to play ‘hide and seek’ with the monster he made. Dolly on the other hand was concerned by the older man that looked like a middle aged William and wondered just what she was witnessing at the moment. On the other hand, Freddy was mouth agape and grasping to form any sort of words to this situation. Though it was a few minutes, the silent panic felt like it had been hours, making Freddy wish Envy was there since they were the murder monarch of Amestris. After a moment, Hohenheim decided to finally break the silence.

“Do you know who I am?” Hohenheim whispered, his face radiating the aura of tranquil fury. “No? I thought you were checking me out for the tiger beard, please don’t murder me..” Freddy looked like he was about to pass out from the adrenaline pumping through his body.

“I’m Van Hoheheim, The Light Alchemist. You have a lot of gall to call me of all alchemists a ‘DILF’ and frankly it disgusts me that I would objectify like that.” Hohenheim angrily introduced himself, his tone dripping with some pent up rage.

“Shit…Dolly save me…” Freddy looked at Dolly for immediate help like teleporting the hell out of range of the enraged super alchemist.

“I am sincerely sorry about Freddy’s mouth, he sometimes doesn’t think his words through and can be insensitive at times.” Dolly decided using words would be a better course of action instead of teleporting out of there. “Can he not apologize on his own?” Hohenheim asked in a disappointed tone. “He can but it’d be a tidal wave of incoherent words, so this is the best you will get on the manner.” Dolly glanced over to Freddy who was frantically nodding to what she was saying.

“Then may I ask what exactly is your relation with the one you call ‘Envy’?” Hohenheim tightened his grip a bit on both Freddy’s and Dolly’s shoulder, clearly this is where Envy got their shoulder gripping skills from.

“They’re a horrible gremlin that torments me daily that calls me Face Fur and spreads horrible rumors about me in my workplace.” Freddy didn’t hesitate to air his grievances about the horrid booger monster that made his life miserable.

“Wait, you mean that monster hasn’t attempted to murder you yet? It's just been lightly teasing you this whole time?” Hohenheim was taken aback that this was the only thing Envy had done.

“Wait what..” Freddy was trying to grasp at the idea that hell Envy put them through was considered ‘light teasing’ rather than torment. “That monster kills people, for fun. With how you behave, I would’ve thought you’d be dead a whole lot sooner than this.” Hohenheim gave Freddy a very puzzled look at the fact he was still alive and breathing.

“That’s really cruel to call someone an ‘it’..Envy most certainly isn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but they don’t deserve to be called an ‘it’.” Dolly gave a bit of a disgusted look at Hohenheim over that terminology.

“I take it that you were given a different treatment? You really shouldn’t place your trust in a monster, I know this one all too well and all the horrible things this creature has done.” Hohenheim had a bit of an air of knowing everything about their broken child even after the abandonment. “Sir, I was in the front roll seat when Envy had their murder rumpus on the train. Trust me when I say I already know Envy has done some pretty bad things, but lately there hasn’t been any mentions of murders. Sure there maybe was some maimings in the paper, but no murders. It might not be much, but it's still something.” Dolly was getting a gut feeling this was probably the reason why Envy hated their parents even before becoming a Homunculus.

“Are you telling me that Envy, the Envy that caused a horrific petrification plague to a village, hasn’t been murdering people as usual?” Hohenheim was now intrigued with this little news as his eyes caught movement and an angry glare that turned into panic.

“Hohenheim of light, you let her go, NOW.” Envy growled, dropping the disguised voice for their preferred one as Envy scrambled for a plan to get Dolly away from this situation.

“Damn it Envy, what about me?!” Freddy wasn’t thrilled with being left to the mercy of a bigger asshole. “I thought you were attracted to him?” Envy kept their eyes on Hohenheim, not wanting to look away for a moment.

“My preference isn’t jackasses. Please give me a little more credit than that.” Freddy narrowed his eyes in offense at his dating standards being questioned.

“Fair enough, at least you have better taste in men than that.” Envy felt a bit of relief that at least Freddy did have a standard when it came to dating.

“I’m very surprised that you’re not attacking me on sight, Envy.” Hohenheim cleared his voice, a tad offended that he was forgotten for a little bit by his monstrosity.

“I’m surprised too, but you know what Hohenheim, I’m right now in a good mood and I’ll leave you alone IF you let Dolly go along with the Face Fur as well.” Envy decided to use that magical thing Dolly does normally, talk it out, in hopes it would work.

“The girl wasn’t joking, you really haven’t been acting like yourself…maybe you have been infected with a disease of your own making like super rabies…” Hohenheim, reasonably, was incredulous about the scenario and the oddly peaceful Envy had him on edge.

“And this is why you don’t show kindness to jackasses, Dolly, this is usually how they react to any peaceful offerings I give.” Envy growled a bit at the reaction Hohenheim gave.

“You did great though Envy! You’re using your words and that’s progress you should be proud of.” Dolly tried to reassure despite the odd hostage situation she found herself in.

“My curiosity has been perked now. You may have the incredibly rude tiger man, but, I’ll be having a much more in depth conversation with the girl.” Hohenheim decided as he tossed Freddy to Envy to distract them long enough to haul ass out of there with a shocked Dolly being dragged along.

#The Wayfarer #FMA 03 #Fullmetal Alchemist #FMA Fan Fiction #Fan Fiction #Writing #Envy the Jealous #Envy #Hohenheim of Light #Van Hohenheim #OCs #Homunculus #Homunculi

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Okay, so on to chapter 3 of “No Regrets”!

I’ve got a few observations, so I’ll just delve in.

First thing, and once again, I found this a huge improvement over the visual novel, but we get more insight here into the reason Erwin was so intent on recruiting Levi. During the scene in which he’s arguing with the other squad leaders about letting a group of “criminals” into their organization, Erwin pushes back against the other scouts deriding Levi and his friends. I really loved Erwin’s line here, where he says “You’re right. These people had no training. They did not earn wings from us. They grew their own, out of necessity.” This shows us that Erwin has a grasp and an appreciation for the hardship Levi and his friends faced while growing up, while most of the other SC leaders and even regular recruits can only look down on them and see them as gutter trash. This shows Erwin’s own scope of vision, his ability to look past a person’s upbringing and background and not make judgments about them based on that. More telling still is his comment about how “those wings will play a part in revolutionizing this organization.”. He wanted Levi’s skills in particular because he knew having someone like Levi around, with exceptional ability, would shift the way they all fight Titans. He was, as always, looking for ways to increase the effectiveness of the SC, and was willing to do whatever he could, and through any means necessary, to ensure it.

The next thing that caught my attention is the glare Levi and Erwin share during the trio’s introduction to the rest of the soldiers. Erwin’s right in front of Levi, standing there, reminding him of his anger and humiliation no doubt, and I think that leads directly into and impacts the next scene, when Flagon shows them their sleeping arrangements. Levi’s already no doubt irritated by having to see Erwin again, and then Flagon makes his frankly deeply disparaging remark about Levi and his friends having spent their whole lives living in a trash heap, implying that they’re filthy gutter trash, and so surely are incapable of keeping themselves and their environment clean. Levi, understandably, reacts badly to this, and gets in Flagon’s face, asking him what he just said, before Furlan intervenes. When you consider the way Erwin already made Levi feel so humiliated and Levi’s subsequent anger at it, then having to see Erwin again not long before this scene, and hearing Flagon just callously make an accusation like that must have only infuriated Levi more. I think, once again, the manga is doing an infinitely better job of portraying the tension, then, that’s starting to form between Levi and Furlan. Furlan scolds Levi after Flagon leaves, almost talking down to him when he says “Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble?!”. Almost like he’s talking to some misbehaving little kid. Levi’s expression in the following panel says a lot, I think. Levi looks almost chastised, like he knows he’s upset Furlan, before he tries to explain himself, asking Furlan “Didn’t you hear how he talked about us? Like shit calling shit dirty.”. It’s really interesting what this says about the power dynamic in their relationship. Levi is ostensibly the leader of their group, but Furlan’s acting, in a lot of ways, like he’s the one in charge and he expects Levi to fall in line. Clearly, he’s not afraid of scolding Levi, or challenging him. All of Furlan’s insistence that they lay low and not do anything to draw attention to themselves must only be chaffing though at Levi’s already heated feelings about the kind of treatment they’re receiving, how they’re being talked down to, etc... It must be galling to him, to see Furlan not seeming to care that they’re all being so deeply disrespected. But he still continues to defer to Furlan, and agree to go along with his plan for now, though he makes his displeasure known by calling it a pain in the ass.

But seeing Erwin, and then being treated the way they were by Flagon, seems to have rekindled Levi’s desire to take his revenge, and he reminds Furlan that he’ll continue to go along with his plan, but that he’s still going to kill Erwin. Once again, we see Levi being pulled in two different directions. He’s giving priority to Furlan’s plans and wishes, but he’s still thinking about getting Erwin back. He’s annoyed that they weren’t assigned to Erwin’s squad, probably because it means it’s going to limit their contact, giving him less opportunities to kill him. Another line that I think signifies Lev’s annoyance at Furlan and how, well, dismissive he is of Levi’s own feelings, is after he tells them they have to clean the area around their beds before leaving for training, and in response to Isabel’s protests, he says “You wouldn’t want me to cause trouble, would you?”. He’s throwing Furlan’s words back in his face here, and it seems clear to me that Levi is frustrated and doesn’t appreciate the way Furlan’s been talking to him, or how little consideration for his own wishes he’s shown. There’s a lot of tension there.

Another really important scene is the one in the training yard, so I’ll got through it here.

Particularly when Isabel is talking to the Scout helping her with horse riding, and they get to talking about life in the Underground, and then Levi. What Isabel says, and the visual of the panel here, is particularly powerful. She says “It got so I thought I was gonna die. But life’s a little better since Levi saved me from that.”. And we see in the panel Levi lifting Isabels’ head up, obviously checking if she’s alive. There’s all these people, collapsed around her, and the fact that Levi is checking to see if she’s alive is interesting, because it makes me think this is something Levi would regularly do. That he would check to see if anyone was alive when he came across people collapsed in the streets. It’s probably not unusual to come across dead bodies in the Underground, and for someone like Levi, who’s lived there all his life, he’s no doubt seen plenty. The fact he checks Isabel shows a lack of callousness towards the sight, which is incredible, to not become uncaring or apathetic towards suffering, even when you’re surrounded by it your whole life. It’s a highly unusual quality to have, but of course, it makes perfect sense for Levi, who’s so full of compassion.

Nevertheless, it would have been simpler for him to just keep moving and ignore her, but instead he stopped, and when he discovered she was still alive, he took her in and gave her food and shelter and a home. She would have died otherwise. Levi had no obligation towards her, he had no, really good reason to do something so selfless, and yet, he did. And this truly is remarkable, especially when you consider the kind of cut throat world Levi grew up in, the kind of ruthless people he’d encountered, and even lived with, like Kenny, all his life.

Then there’s Furlan’s discussion with another soldier, and his story about Levi. The most interesting thing Furlan says here is how, after his own friends turned on him, he’s followed Levi ever since. And then he says “Though it might be problematic making him any kind of leader!”. It’s interesting what this reveals to us about Levi. People want to follow him because he’s so strong, but Levi himself has no desire for power, or control over others. People willingly attach themselves to him, because they think Levi can protect them, but Levi isn’t any kind of natural leader. So we know Levi was more or less forced into the role of leader by way of others seeking him out and assigning him that role. What’s interesting about this is how it, once again, reveals the kind of person Levi is. He could easily have rejected all of these people and abandoned them. One thing we know is that Levi didn’t need any help surviving on his own in the Underground. But instead Levi allows them to stay with him and willingly offers his help and protection, and though it’s probably more of a pain and a nuisance to him than anything else. It shows that Levi’s never been able to turn away from those seeking his help.

Which leads nicely into the next scene.

I’ve talked about this scene before, and how disappointed I was that they didn’t include it in the OVA. This also wasn’t included in the visual novel, which is, once more, just another way in which the manga is superior.

Flagon is once again criticizing Levi for holding his blades “wrong”, telling him he’s going to end up getting killed outside the walls. And then the training exercise begins, and we see one of the other soldiers trying to compete with Levi, and growing increasingly incensed and annoyed at Levi’s prowess. He thinks “These vagrants with no knowledge as soldiers...” and then “I trained half to death, and these criminals think they’re better?!”. What’s interesting is to see that while this soldier is fuming internally over Levi’s perceived slight of him, glaring at him angrily, Levi clearly hasn’t even taken notice of him. This isn’t a competition to Levi at all. He’s just there to do the exercises. He’s staring straight ahead, blank faced as always.

Now what happens next is once more hugely revealing as to Levi’s character. The infuriated soldier decides he’s not going to accept that Levi’s better than him, and so he intentionally pushes off of a tree and cuts Levi off mid-flight. What struck me about this is how incredibly dangerous it was. Levi’s going, presumably, full speed, through this obstacle course, and this dude, out of petty jealousy, cuts him off by flying right in front of and past him, forcing Levi to pull back and change direction. A stunt like this could have easily resulted in serious injury for Levi, or even death, if he weren’t as gifted as he is. To top it off, this soldier then brags about it, calling out to Levi “Don’t get left behind!”. Of course, his arrogance leads to immediate disaster, as the soldier that went through the course before lost one of their blades in the dummy Titan, and this dude’s flying towards it at top speed, with no way to stop himself or change direction in time. He’s about to be impaled by a blade. Considering the danger he’s just placed Levi in, then, it truly is a testament to Levi’s goodness, that he launches off the tree he’s stopped on, racing ahead and slicing the stray blade free before the other soldier can make contact, resulting in him harmlessly crashing into the pad, instead of dying. This really shows how Levi’s first instinct is always to help others. Even when others have just not only treated him badly, but even endangered his life. He doesn’t owe this soldier anything, and by all rights should be extremely pissed at him for his petty display before. But instead Levi just automatically reacts to his life being threatened by saving the man. He doesn’t even scold him afterward or express anger, just flies off and continues the course.

What makes this whole thing kind of sad is both the soldier’s and Flagon’s reaction to this. The soldier is still angry and upset over Levi’s superior ability, wondering how he can be so fast, not even sparring a thought of appreciation for him just saving his life. And then Flagon grudgingly admits to Levi’s fighting prowess, but continues to doubt him and his ability to stay disciplined. Even after saving one of his own men’s lives, he still continues to look down on Levi. That’s pretty messed up. Levi glares back at him after, as if to say “Who’s the one who’s going to get people killed out there?”. Levi saved a soldiers life, while Flagon could only sit and watch. It’s interesting too how this, tragically, foreshadows what’s to come though, with Levi not being able to save the people he cares the most about. But we’ll get into that when we get there.

Also, just gotta mention also the way Levi reacts to Isabel’s getting upset after he bonks her in the head and calls her stupid. He looks surprised when she starts crying, and it’s clear he didn’t mean to actually hurt her feelings, and it’s just really sweet, the way he rubs her head after. He obviously felt bad.

Okay, into chapter 4 next!

#attack on titan #No Regrets #Levi Ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #Furlan Church #isabel magnolia #Erwin Smith #snk analysis

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its-nebula · 3 years

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You Could Do So Much Better

Leon Kuwata x Fem!Reader, inspired by the song "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne

Warning: Some cursing, slight NSFW?

I wasn't really that fond of Leon before starting to write this, but then this idea popped into my head and as I did more research I think I like him a bit more!! Anyways there's a lack of fics for him so here y'all go. This is looooooooonnng so enjoy

You were starting to get impatient now. You looked like a loser sitting on the bench by yourself, with your arms crossed wondering where the hell he was. He was never usually this late! Seriously, he could’ve at least called ahead and told you he was going to be late, or even a text would’ve sufficed! Well, whatever. He would explain himself whenever he showed up.

“S/O! Hey!”

Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. With... oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no he didn’t. Who was that clinging onto his arm, giggling like a little schoolgirl? Did he really have the nerve, the audacity, the gall to bring his girlfriend Sayaka along? Without so much as warning you? Immediately, you could feel the blood inside your body start to boil, but you kept your calm, putting on the must realistic smile that you could.

“Hey, Leon.” You greeted, and then you turned to Sayaka. He didn’t seem to notice, but she also seemed to be displaying the fakest grin that you’ve ever seen. “Hello, Sayaka.”

“S/O! It is so good to see you again!” Sayaka greeted back, in the most annoying voice that you’ve ever heard in your life. “Sorry that we were late, buuuuuut Leon and I got stopped on the way here by some fans, and we just HAD to take some pictures with them!” You winced as you heard the emphasis she put on the word “fans”, as if to rub it in your face that they were famous and you weren’t. She was doing it on purpose, you could feel it in your bones. It made you want to scream inside.

Leon nodded as he agreed, with a sheepish look on his face. “Yep, hate to disappoint the fans, y’know? But really, we’re sorry. Come on, let’s go now. Are you hungry?”

You were honestly famished after waiting all that time. “Actually. I’m-”

You were interrupted by Sayaka getting in Leon’s face, a pleading look on her face. “Would it be alright if we went in the music store first? I’ve been meaning to get a new tuner.”

Leon smiled at her. “Sure thing, babe! S/O, you coming?” He and Sayaka were already walking, so all you could do is follow behind them. At least you didn’t have to put on that stupid happy grin for a few minutes as the 3 of you walked around the gigantic mall. You did, however, notice her glance over her shoulder, smirking at you for a quick second before turning her head back to Leon. Oh, his girlfriend was such a bitch. Why was he with her again?

Well, he wasn’t always the “deepest” guy, in fact it wouldn’t be too inaccurate to call him quite shallow. She had everything he’d probably ever wanted in a girl; she was stunning, she was talented, she was insanely popular, and everyone seemed to like her. How could he not fall for her, while you were just some lowly Reserve Course student that he just so happened to take an interest in? He’d compliment you and pay attention to you sometimes, sure, but when Sayaka was around or when Sayaka called he would drop his so called “friend” and bow to her. Sayaka this and Sayaka that. Sayaka, Sayaka, fucking Sayaka. You hated it. You hated how he would talk about how hot her body was, or how good it felt to touch her in various ways, but he could talk about this stuff to you, because you’re just friends, right?

Oh, whatever. All that did for you is confirm how you definitely won’t be anything more than friends anytime soon. Yes, you longed to be the one to feel his touch. How desperately you wanted to feel his lips on yours, his fingertips sliding up and down your sides, trying to pull you closer to him. “Sayaka who?” Is all you wanted to hear him say to you, before he started kissing slowly down your neck, biting and leaving marks that would surely be there for days.

Alas, it was just a fantasy, and you were stuck with the couple laughing giddily with each other, listening to samples off various music CDs and commenting on them. It made you want to throw up, but you couldn’t help but think as to why that couldn’t be you. She was not right for him, and you knew it. That made seeing them kissing and forgetting about you-- even when you’re right there-- all the more painful.

Finally, Sayaka found her way to the tuners, and she said that she would check out and would be right back.

“Leon, you know you can do better than her.” You said bluntly, but quietly, as she sashayed off.

“Pfft. What, better than a pop star? Do you think I’m stupid or somethin’?” He laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Get real, what isn’t there to like? I’ve met a lot of ladies, but she’s totally hot, she’s-”

“Rich, popular, blah blah blah, I know, I know.” You interrupted him angrily, rolling your eyes and turning your back from him, shrugging his hand off. You let out an even angrier sigh, trying your best to calm yourself down.

“Yo, are you okay?” His voice lowered. “You’re not still mad about us being late, right?”

“I’m fine.” You grumbled, and walked out of the store, deciding to just wait for them outside. You leaned against the wall, attempting again to calm yourself down.

“Where are you going?!” So he’d run after you then. Just great. Why was he pretending to care about you now? Didn’t he have a girlfriend to look after? “You don’t look alright to me. Really, what’s wrong?”

“I said nothing, Leon, I’m fine.” You stated again. “Go back to your girlfriend who you love so much.”

“But I don’t...!” He let out a long sigh, crossing his arms. “What is it, did she say something to you? I wanna know!”

“Why do you care?” You snapped, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously you worship the ground she walks on.”

Leon’s eyes darted back to the door for a second, but he moved closer towards you. His voice got quieter, and his expression got more serious. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you, S/O.”

You could feel yourself blushing at his sudden closeness, but you couldn’t let yourself lose composure like this, or else he would definitely know how you felt about him. Instead, you avoided eye contact, but you couldn’t help but glance into his eyes occasionally. God, he was so close. You could smell his cologne wafting into your nose, and lord, did he smell good. All you wanted to do was just pull him closer and...

“Leon? Where did you go?”

“Shit!” He whispered and turned around quickly. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush on his face, but now the moment was ruined. “U-Uh, I’m right here!”

“There you are! What are you two talking about?” She asked innocently, her eyes darting back and forth between you two. However, you could tell by her expression that she saw at least something.

“It was nothing! Nothing at all.” Leon laughed nervously, scratching his neck. You didn’t say anything, just looking away from both of them.

“Right...” She eyed you suspiciously, before clinging on to her boyfriend’s arm once again.

Leon cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. “H-Hey, um, do you guys wanna see me hit a few pitches? I know where the batting cage is around here!”

“Sure!” Sayaka chirped as they started to move together again. Well, it was fun while it lasted, but now it looks like you were the 3rd Wheel once more. Just what you always wanted, right? Yay!

As he went to set himself up in the cage, Sayaka turned to you. If looks could kill, you would most definitely be on the floor right now, dead as dust. “I see the way you look at him, you know. You need to stop.”

“Leon’s my friend.” You defended yourself. “We’re just friends. It’s not my fault you cling to him like a crazy bit-”

“Don’t. Say anything. About me. Do you really think he would believe me over you? All I have to do is give him one little night of fun and you’ll be gone so fast your head will spin!”

“I...” You didn’t have a rebuttal, because you knew she was right. You knew for a fact she was correct. After all, she had him, and you didn’t. She already won. “Fine. I’ll leave you both alone then.”

“He doesn’t need you, you know. You’re nothing. He has me. He probably won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

“Shut up.” Your expression darkened, and you balled your fists by your side.

“As if you actually have a shot with someone like him. Please, don’t make me laugh, If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay in your lane.”

Without thinking, you pushed her. She gasped, and she pushed you harder, causing you to fall on the ground with a thud. Leon heard this, and he turned around, his eyes widening as he saw the scene before him. “Huh? What the hell’s going on over there?!”

Sayaka instantly stopped what she was doing and started tearing up, trying to wipe her eyes of tears. People started staring at the both of you as she started to sob. Oh, now you’ve done it.

“S-She h-hit me! Why is she so mean to me?” Sayaka cried, and you could hear the crowd’s disapproval. Leon didn’t say anything as he looked at you pick yourself up and run out of the area.

Specifically, you ran to the nearest restroom, and started to cry to yourself while leaning on the wall. Who were you kidding? Everything she said was the truth. She and Leon were together, and you weren’t in her position, and you probably never would be. Why would you ever allow yourself to gain such an unattainable crush? You felt really, really stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...stupid.

It could’ve been hours, it could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been seconds, you weren’t sure, but you heard someone opening up the door, locking it behind them. Wow, you didn’t even lock the door to the bathroom. How else were you going to mess up today?

“I’m sorry, S/O.” You heard a very familiar voice say softly. You lifted your head up to see the face of the one that you love. You were a bit confused as to why he wasn’t consoling his girlfriend right now, but you were in no mood to argue.

A bit of silence passed, and he decided to speak up again as you dried your tears. “So, she told me what happened. At least, her side of the story. I should’ve known.”

“Her side...? Y-You mean...?”

“I barely ever believe a word she says anymore.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky you don’t have to hear her whining and complaining every single day. Every time I try bringing you up, it’s like she turns into a total bitch.”

You blinked at him. You could honestly believe what he said, but why would he stay with her then? “But you always seem so in love with each other. You call her hot every single day.”

He shrugged. “She’s attractive, but truthfully, she’s nothing compared to the girl I really want to be with. At least she’s got brains, beauty, and personality.”

“The girl you really want to be with.” You repeated, thinking to yourself. “Who could that be?”

Without warning, he leaned down and connected his lips with yours. Instantaneously, your eyes fluttered to a close, and now you could feel yourself smiling. It just felt so right, being here in his arms. He laughed a little when he felt you smile, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

After a minute or two, you pulled away for air, both of you gasping breathlessly. “But what happened to Sayaka?”

He kissed over your ear, before he whispered into it, “I could do a lot better than Sayaka, don’t you think?”

That was all you needed for you to passionately kiss him again, one of his hands in your hair, with the other one sneakily creeping up your shirt, which you happily let happen.

Looks like fantasies come true after all.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #leon kuwata #thh #imagine #leon x reader

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cassiabaggins · 3 years

Text

An Extra Burglar Chapter Nine: Goblin Town

A/N: Happy Halloween! This is a sort of topical chapter, I suppose? Anyway, happy Fili Friday, as well! Please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed this!

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4,050

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Tags: @demigoddesofchimichangagod @pistachiozombie @swoopswishsward @d3-iseefire @moony-artnstuff @legolasesboo522 @sage-willow-raven @underthemoon-n @legolaslovely @guardianofrivendell

Cassia wakes up quite quickly. You cannot stay half asleep while hurtling down a stone tunnel, and even less so when you land with a thud in a gigantic metal and wood cage. She lands on top of Fili and Kili, lucky to not land on the bottom of the pile, though Kili groans when she kicks him in the head.

“What’s happening?” She asks, her heart in her throat. Fili grabs her arm.

“I don’t know I—”

“Look out!” Someone cries and then suddenly they're beset on every side by creatures. Cassia thinks they may be Goblins; she isn't sure. They rush at them and grab them from all angles, dozens of hands snatching and grabbing and jostling, and the dwarves go wild.

Cassia and Fili are torn apart and he yells, “Get your hands off her!” grabbing a knife from somewhere and stabbing wildly. He reaches her and grabs her hand and she clings to his arm and from then on, the dwarves barely let the goblins touch her. At one point, Cassia witnesses Bifur bite a grotesque arm reaching for her. They're hustled along caverns and wooden walkways, and it's all Fili can do to keep hold of her. She can say with certainty that she has never been more frightened in her life, she feels near tears the whole time. She has no idea what’s going to happen, no sense of what is going on even, it’s just dwarves yelling and goblins screeching, and she clings to Fili as hard as she can.

They're ushered out into a platform and Cassia is hidden away in the midst of the dwarves. Bofur takes off his hat and pushes it low on her head and makes a ‘shh’ motion. Fili and Kili are in front of her, hiding her with their bodies, and she’s glad of it. Even Thorin steps in front of her and easily draws any eyes away from her, being much more noticeable.

Sitting before them on a massive chair is the hugest, fattest, most grotesque being she has ever laid eyes on. It's (his?) skin is mottled yellow and covered in sores and leaking pus. Stringy hair hangs around its face and a crown of bones rests upon its brow. He (it?) is singing (although its more like yowling) about torture and crushing and other nasty things. Occasionally, the other goblins join in his song. It’s such a horridly loud noise that Cassia can’t help but to cover her ears. It hurts!

"Clap, snap, the black crack Grip, grab, pinch, and nab Batter and beat Make ‘em stammer and squeak! Pound pound, far underground Down, down, down in Goblin Town (Down, down, down in Goblin Town)

“With a swish and smack And a whip and a crack Everybody talks when they’re on my rack Pound pound, far underground Down, down, down to Goblin Town (Down, down, down to Goblin Town)

“Hammer and tongs, get out your knockers and gongs You won't last long on the end of my prongs Clash, crash, crush and smash Bang, break, shiver and shake

“You can yammer and yelp But there ain't no help Pound pound, far underground Down, down, down in Goblin...Tooooooooooown

The Goblin King ends his song with a flourish and clambers back up onto his throne, crushing a few of his subjects to use as a stepstool.

“Catchy, isn't it?” he asks, peering down at them with surprisingly intelligent (if grotesquely pus-filled) eyes, “it's one of my own compositions!”

Cassia frowns and leans towards Fili, attempting a joke through her fear, “it's a little pitchy.” He seems to understand her fright and reaches back, sliding his hand into hers. She clings to it like a lifeline.

“That's not a song,” Balin cries, seeming in agreement with her, “that's an abomination!” The other dwarves agree loudly. It truly is an awful song.

“Abominations!” The great goblin says, “mutations, deviations… That’s all you’re gonna find down here.” He spreads his arms to indicate the vast, tiered city. The walls of the cavern really are absolutely teeming with his kind. Cassia tightens her hold on Fili’s hand.

Just then, a few goblins elbow their way through the crowd and drop the Company’s weapons at his feet. Cassia can’t help but feel a little indignant at the sight of her sword resting on the top of the pile. The goblin’s have no right to it!

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my Kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!” The Goblin King scrambles out of his throne again, loaming huge above them. Cassia tries to be inconspicuous.

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” one of the beasts says. “We found them on the front porch.”

“Dwarves?! Well, don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack, every crevice!”

The goblins take to the task with enthusiasm, and hands are suddenly all over Cassia, touching her in places she very much does not like. “Hands off!!!” She yelps, catching one in the gut with her foot and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don't touch her!!!” Fili roars, striking out. The other dwarves fight the goblins off from her, bloodying noses and cracking a few limbs, but the Goblin King reaches over their heads, grabs her by the back of the shirt and hoists her into the air.

“Cassia! No!” Fili shouts, reaching out and missing her by mere centimeters. The other dwarves shout their own protests.

“What's this? Too soft and pale to be a dwarf! What are you?!”

"Let go of her!!!" Fili roars, lunging forward, but he's pounced upon and wrestled back in quick succession.

“I'm a hobbit!” she shouts, wriggling angrily. “Let me go!”

“Hobbit? Never heard of a Hobbit before! Sounds like dwarven lies!”

“I'm not lying! Let go!” She kicks out and catches him in the nose and he roars, throwing her at her companions. Cassia is caught by Bifur and Kili and shoved back into the circle of dwarves, to Fili, who’s fought himself free. He wraps his arms around her protectively.

“Fili,” she breathes, knowing full well that if he goes into Durin’s Rage down here, he’ll be killed within seconds. “Fili, please stay calm.” She can feel his chest shuddering against her back and she rubs his hands. “Breathe, Fili.”

He takes a deep breath in response, his cheek pressing to the side of her head. His heartbeat is beginning to slow. She also notices Thorin put a steadying hand on Fili’s arm.

“It is my belief,” One of the goblins says, holding up an elven candlestick, “That they are in league with elves!”

Cassia wonders briefly where in the world that came from. Then she spots Dori giving Nori a withering look. Oh.

The Goblin King grabs the candlestick, turning it this way and that.

“Made… in… Rivendell,” he reads from the bottom, and scoffs. “Second Age. Couldn’t give it away.” He tosses the candlestick away into the depths of goblin town.

“It’s just a couple of keepsakes,” Nori says, as if he hasn’t possibly doomed them all. Dori looks like he is going to strangle his younger brother, and Dwalin looks as if he’ll help.

The Goblin King points at Cassia. “What are you then? Some sort of spawn of an elf and a dwarf? You’re too small to be an elf, and no beard so you cannot be a dwarf! What are you? Speak up!”

“She doesn’t have to say anything!” Fili shouts, stepping in front of her. The other dwarves shout their agreement. The Goblin King knocks them aside with his scepter, catching Fili a particularly vicious blow in the shoulder.

“No one asked you, dwarf,” he spits. He jabs his scepter at Cassia, who is so angry at the way he’s hit Fili and the fact that he thinks she is some sort of dwarf-elf hybrid (perish the thought!) that she forgets to be scared.

“I’ve already said I’m a hobbit!” She shrieks, putting her fists on her hips and stomping her foot. She shakes her finger at him. “And a perfectly wellbred one at that!”

“There’s no good breeding down here,” the great goblin laughs, “only inbreeding.” He laughs wheezily. “What are you doing in these parts, hobbit?”

Thorin begins to step forward but Oin stops him.

“Don’t worry lads,” the elderly medic says, stepping forward. “I’ll handle this.”

“No tricks!” The Goblin King says. “I want the truth! Warts and all!”

“You’re going to have to speak up,” Oin says, holding up his ear trumpet. “Your boys flattened my trumpet.”

Cassia has the overwhelming urge to giggle at that, even despite her fear. Not because his trumpet is flattened (the poor dwarf can barely hear) but because Oin is perfectly indignant and has the gall to say something about it.

“I’ll flatten more than your trumpet!” The great goblin roars, storming toward them, and Cassia shrieks as the dwarves scramble back.

“If it’s for information you’re wantin’,” Bofur cries out, “I’m the one you should speak to!”

The Goblin King pauses, and stares at him. “Mhm?”

The dwarf seems alarmed that that had worked and flounders for a few moments. Then, he rallies. “We were on the road. Well, it’s not so much a road as a path. Actually it's not even that, come to think of it. It’s more like a track. Anyway, the point is, we were on this road like a path like a track… and then we weren’t! Which is a problem because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday…” He looks back at the others, and Dori leaps to his rescue.

“Visiting distant relations!” He puts in.

Bofur nods, running with that. “Some inbreds on my mother’s side—”

“SHUT UP!!!!!” The Goblin King howls. His subjects cower, allowing Fili to scramble back to Cassia’s side, and Bofur shuts his mouth with a clop.

“If they will not talk,” the goblin says, “we'll make them squawk! Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the Bonebreaker! Start with the hobbit!”

Cassia goes very, very still.

"No!" Fili shouts, surging forward.

“Fili, no!” Cassia screams as Bifur and Kili are thrown out of the way when they try to grab him and hold him back. The goblins stop him and slam his face to the ground viciously, and Fili goes limp, clearly dazed. She gasps. "Fili!"

“Wait!” Thorin says, stepping forward.

“Well, well, well,” the Goblin King jeers, quickly losing interest in Cassia, “look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór, King Under The Mountain.” he bows mockingly. “But wait! You don't have a Mountain, do you? And you're not a King, which makes you no one, really.”

Thorin raises his chin proudly. Cassia can practically feel the rage pouring off him as she kneels next to Fili. The blonde dwarf groans and tries to get his arms underneath him.

“You need to calm down,” Kili hisses to his older brother, hauling him upright. Fili grunts, wiping at his bleeding nose. Cassia stands and presses close to them. “I’m serious,” Kili continues. “Aren’t you meant to be the levelheaded one?”

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head,” the Goblin King continues to Thorin, “just the head. Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of who I speak? An old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc. Astride a white warg.”

Thorin finally speaks. The idea of his old enemy still living is enough to begin to crack his shell. His voice trembles a little with barely concealed rage.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed,” Thorin spits. “He was slain in battle long ago.”

“So you think his Defiling days are done, do you?” The Goblin King says mockingly. He turns to one of his subjects. “Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize.” As the goblin skitters off, he turns back to the Company. “Now then. We only need the one dwarf,” He surveys them with a grotesque grin. “So let’s have some fun.”

Cassia hears clattering and scraping behind them, and out of the corner of her eye sees a whole lot of great, nasty-looking contraptions brought up, machines whose uses she can only guess at, and all the guesses are awful.

The Goblin King surveys them again, and his eyes land on Fili, who looks rather worse for wear, blood staining his mustache. Cassia’s heart lurches. “What about this blond one? He looks fun, eh Oakenshield?” Horror sweeps over Thorin’s face, just briefly, but the great goblin spots it. “What’s this? Is this dwarf special to you? A son?” Thorin clams up again, and Fili bears his teeth, refusing to be afraid. “No,” the Goblin King continues, “Not a son. He doesn’t look similar enough. A nephew, maybe?” Cassia doesn’t see what Thorin does, but it’s met with a slow grin. “Ah! Hit the nail on the head, have I?” The gigantic goblin throws his head back in a laugh. Fili is dragged forward, despite the struggling of the dwarves, his hand torn away from Cassia.

“Kili!” Fili cries frantically, “Don’t let Cassia—” He’s silenced by a blow to the head, but his brother gets the idea, grabbing the lass and pulling her back. Cassia feels sick. She’s convinced she’s about to see the person she loves be tortured...

But then, all of a sudden several goblins cry out and Orcrist is thrown to the ground, partly unsheathed.That is what saves Fili.

But ultimately dooms them all...

The Goblin King rears back, clambering on to his throne. “I know that sword!” He cries, “it is the Goblin-Cleaver! The Biter! The Blade That Sliced A Thousand Necks! Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!”

Cassia gasps, only able to watch as Thorin is being wrestled to the ground. There’s nothing she can do, since she really can’t fight at all, and all the dwarves are as beset as she is, kicking and screaming, she's grappled to the ground, and she’s terrified and convinced she’s going to die. She can barely breathe from the weight of the goblins on top of her, when suddenly, blessedly, it’s gone.

“Mizimelûh!” someone shouts, and Cassia, though she doesn’t know the dwarvish word, knows it is directed at her. She rolls over and sees Fili for a brief moment, before he’s dragged down again. “Run!” he roars.

And then, there's a great white light and a force that's like a thousand raging winds and they are all blown back and to the ground. Cassia is one of the first to recover, having been on the ground already, and she sits up slowly, brushing her hair out of her face.

Gandalf emerges from the darkness, and she has never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Take up arms!” The wizard commands. “Fight. Fight!”

There's the clattering of weapons and shouting of dwarves and Fili drops to his knees beside her. He smooths her hair off her face.

“Are you hurt?" he asks, looking her up and down. Cassia shakes her head. Her breath is coming is harsh, terrified pants and she grabs on to him and doesn’t let go. He hugs her tightly, then drags her to her feet.

"Don't let go of me!” He instructs, snatching her sword out of the air as it's thrown towards them and handing it to her. “Understand?”

She nods, holding his hand tightly, and the next thing she knows, they’re running. Cassia doesn’t really remember what happens, except from time to time she is passed from dwarf to dwarf. The goblins are trying their damndest to stop them, and Cassia is very glad of her sword and Fili’s fighting lessons, and even manages to cut off a few hands and fingers as they run, although most of the goblins are thrown out of her way by the others.

They all burst out of the more winding places and onto a bridge and suddenly the Goblin King explodes from the bridge to stand before them, blocking their path. The rest of his subjects swarm up behind them, covering their escape from that direction, too.

Fili pushes Cassia behind him, his arm in front of her protectively, Kili at her back, so she’s sandwiched between them.

“You thought you could escape me?” The Goblin King jeers, and swings his scepter at Gandalf. Cassia yelps as the wizard falls back, caught by Ori and Nori.

“What are you going to do now, wizard?”

Gandalf surges forward and jabs the Goblin King in the face with his staff and slices him open with Glamdring.

“That'll do it,” the monster says. Gandalf cuts his throat.

Then, the whole bridge crumbles and the bottom of the world just seems to fall away. Cassia’s stomach is in her throat and she screams, grabbing on to Fili. He pulls her against his side as the bridge (miraculously intact) slides down the rocks as if it were a gigantic sled. Only much, much more dangerous.

Down, down, down they careen through the canyon, occasionally catching and skittering on rocks and in tight places. Cassia is quite glad she isn’t the only one yelling.

Their descent stutters as the ends of their makeshift sled catches between the sides of the cavern, and then they hit the ground with a jarring thud that has Cassia’s teeth rattling around in her skull and the wooden bridge finally falling to pieces.

She is spared from being hit by most of the debris by Fili's body, thankfully, as he covers her head with his arms.

Gandalf reaches in and lifts her out by the back of the shirt (rather like the Goblin King had, only much gentler) as easily as if she had been a small animal.

“Well,” Bofur says, “that could have been worse!”

The Goblin King's corpse lands atop the dwarves, immediately proving him wrong, and they all cry out.

In the brief moment of peace they have, Cassia realizes something horrible. She looks around frantically as her companions scramble slowly out from the rubble, her heart in her throat, but the person she is looking for is nowhere to be found.

"Where's my brother?" She asks Fili, who has come over to her.

"What?" He queries. She opens her mouth to repeat herself, but is interrupted.

"Gandalf!" Kili yells, pointing up the way they had come. Hundreds of goblins are swarming down toward them.

“There’s too many of them!” Dwalin shouts, dragging Nori to his feet. “We can’t fight them!”

"Only one thing can save us now!” The wizard says. “Daylight. Run!”

Fili grabs Cassia’s arm, dragging her along. "Come on!"

"Fili!" She cries, pulling back, "Where's my brother?! Where's Bilbo!" She can’t leave without Bilbo!

"Cassia!" He shouts. "We don't have time for this!"

"But—"

Fili scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" She shrieks, punching his shoulder, "put me down, you beast! Let me go!" But she is tiny and her fists are next to useless against his back. Fili just tightens his iron grip around her legs, and runs. She can't do anything but scream at him.

Finally, he lowers her back to the ground. They're out in the sunlight, now, goblins left far behind. As soon as he lets go of her, she whirls on him and shoves him. He doesn't even budge, because he is solid and strong, like a mountain. "How could you do that?!" She screams at him. "I hate you!" She doesn't, really, because she could never feel anything but love for him, but he still looks stricken.

"Cassia, I—"

"Shut up!" She screams at him, punching his chest. "Shut up!!! I told you he was missing and you made me leave him behind! I hate you!"

"Miss Baggins!" Gandalf says, "Cassia! Whatever is the matter?”

"We left Bilbo behind!" She wails to him.

There is an instant uproar.

"Where is he!" Gandalf shouts, "where is Bilbo?!"

"I thought he was with Dori!" Someone shouts.

"Now don't blame this on me!"

"I saw him slip away when they first collared us!" Nori cries.

“Well, what happened exactly?” Gandalf commands, “Tell me!”

"We left him behind," Cassia sobs, her tears coming hard and fast now, "and I tried to say something but Fili carried me off!" She whirls back on him. "I hate you! I'll never forgive you!"

"Cassia—" he tries again.

"You could've gotten killed!" Kili interjects.

"I don't care!" She screams at him, "he's my brother! Wouldn't you do the same?!" Kili has no words, because of course he would.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Thorin snarls, and Cassia is quite sure she’s going to hate him for whatever will come out of his mouth next. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”

She gasps indignantly. Her brother is missing, possibly dead, and all Thorin cares about is that fact that he may have run off?! “Shut your mouth!” Cassia shrieks. Shockingly, Thorin does, his eyebrows raising. “He wouldn’t do that! He’s not like that!” She steps forward toward Thorin, and Fili grabs her around the waist. It’s a good thing, too, because she is in such a state of rage that she would undoubtedly have slapped the dwarf king if she had reached him. “He’s come all this way to help you! We both have! And all you’ve done is be horribly rude and awful toward him. If he did run off, it’s because you drove him away, you absolute—”

She doesn’t have a chance to finish her insult, though, because, oh joy of joys, her brother’s voice rings out.

“No one’s driven anyone off!”

They all turn. Bilbo is standing just behind them all, looking a bit scratched up (they all do), but alive. Cassia screams.

“Bilbo!”

Fili lets her go and she throws herself at her brother, arms around his neck, face in his shoulder. Bilbo stumbles a little, but hugs her back. She can hear the dwarves making little relieved noises at the fact that he is alive and well. “I thought we’d left you back there,” Cassia sobs. "I thought you were dead!"

“I know,” he mumbles. “But you didn’t. I’m perfectly fine!"

“We’d given you up!” Kili cries, relief clear in his voice.

“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili queries. Cassia pulls back from Bilbo. That is a very good question.

“Bilbo?” she asks.

Her brother flounders for a moment, before Gandalf speaks up. “Well,” the wizard says, “what does it matter? He’s back!”

“It matters,” Thorin declares, eying Bilbo suspiciously. “I want to know. Why did you come back? Was it just for your sister?”

Cassia finds herself frowning. As angry as she still is with the dwarf king, he does have a point. Bilbo had seemed quite ready to up and leave immediately after the giants, and ready enough to drag her with him. Perhaps he still means to leave, but was unable to without her. She peers at Bilbo. He sighs.

“Part of it was for Cassia. She’s my sister. I can’t abandon her. And… and I know you doubt me. I know you always have.” He glances around at the other dwarves. “And you’re right. I often think of Bag End.” He shrugs. “I miss my books. And my armchair. And my bed. See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. And that’s why I came back. Because… you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back, if I can.”

There is a silence, and no one says anything, waiting for Thorin, who just looks at Bilbo for a long time. Then, to everyone's surprise, he nods his head to Bilbo, in a sign of thanks, and perhaps a little bit of respect. The relief that washes over the Company is palpable. But it doesn't last for long.

All of a sudden, from up the mountain, there comes the far too familiar howling of wargs. Cassia’s heart leaps in her throat. Not again! Not now!

“Out of the frying pan,” Thorin mumbles.

“And into the fire,” Gandalf finishes. “Run. Run!”

#fili friday #fili x oc #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #hobbit oc #fili x cassia #oc x canon #cassia baggins #my oc #my writing #an extra burglar

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 4 years

Note

A bit (a lot) on the ~risque~ side, but what about Reader and Yennefer make the boys watch? 😏 Maybe something like Reader and Yen end up hot n heavy after sharing mutual frustration about Jask and Geralt, so to equal out their ~frustration~ they give the boys a whole dang show they can't join in on 😏😉

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Yennefer x Reader Word Count: 2,034Rating: ETaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: I left the ending open for you to decide how Geralt and Jaskier process/retaliate/respond once they allowed to move again. This is my first wlw smut fic so it an only get better from here! Enjoy!

“Repeat the rules back to me,” Yennefer said, voice low and commanding. The two men sitting on the little sofa seat across from the bed exchanged amused smiles and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“We’re not to move,” he said. Yennefer nodded and her eyes shifted to Geralt.

“We’re not to move,” he echoed, “Until you want us to,” he added smugly. That smugness was one of the reasons this was happening. Both men in your party had been getting a bit too full of themselves and you and Yennefer had taken the brunt of this. You and Yennefer had bonded over your frustration as the pair went off on stupid quests and nearly died and then had the gall to try and tell the two of you what to do or not do for your own safety. They’d also grown complacent in your relationships. There was a line between feeling secure and taking someone for granted and they’d fully pivoted to the latter. Even Jaskier, usually so romantic and attentive, had been a downright prick at times. Yennefer had offered a possible solution to ease the growing tension between all of you; a primer.

“Y/N, would you care to remind them why we’re doing this?” Yennefer asked, climbing onto the bed towards you, violet eyes glinting with mischief in a way that made you swallow your tongue.

“You want to remind them that they aren’t the only options we have on the road,” you said a little shyly. Yennefer tucked a strand of hair beneath your ear tenderly and she leaned in to whisper.

“You can tell me to stop any time,” she reminded you and you nodded, knowing full well there wasn’t a single thing this woman could suggest doing to you that you wouldn’t happily comply with. You were in love with Jaskier, but you understood why the witcher had fallen for the sorceress whose soft mouth was suddenly coming closer. Your eyes watched its progress before finally licking your lips and accepting the kiss. You’d wondered so many times what this would feel like and all of your fantasies paled in comparison. She was warm and soft and you pressed into the kiss, deepening it as she ran a hand through your hair. Her hand slid up your scalp and then she clenched her fist, seizing a thick handful of hair in a gesture that caused you to break out of the kiss with a gasp.

“Is that alright?” she purred into your ear. You tried to nod but your head was held taut in her grip.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Holy fuck,” a voice said and you remembered that the two men were still in the room, watching. Yennefer looked over at them and gave them a warning glare.

“Stay exactly where you are,” she ordered. Jaskier threw up his hands in surrender and Geralt gripped the couch tighter, his face impassive but multiple emotions warring in his eyes; jealousy, lust, anger, and not a little bit of pride. Yennefer turned her face back to you and began kissing her way down your bared neck. A soft moan escaped your lips and your eyes closed, focusing only on the way she touched and caressed you with her tongue and lips and hands that slid under the light robe you’d put on. Jaskier was attentive and gentle and damn good in bed. But this was different. Not better, just different. She was softer but rougher at the same time, unafraid to grip you closer or push you around a bit, knowing not to underestimate you and not worrying about overpowering you though, gods, she did.

She pressed you down against the bed, her hands pining yours as she climbed on top of you and gently undid the belt of your robe. You reached up tentatively but paused uncertainly, afraid to take liberties, happy to give but fearful to take. Yennefer saw your hand and took it, lifting it up to her breasts and planting it firmly. You heard a sharp intake of breath and you both looked over, hear lifting her head, the long, dark locks falling against your neck and you craning your neck to look around. Geralt was seething and Jaskier looked like he was having a stroke and you could feel their frustration. You made eye contact with Jaskier and smiled wickedly before turning back to Yennefer and pulling her closer to you, your bodies flush against each other as she slid a leg between yours, her knee gently rubbing against your mound as she moved into the kiss. You slid your tongue through her parted lips and swallowed the moan you pulled from her with the eager exploration of your mouth and hands on her body.

“Put your hands around her throat,” Jaskier’s voice called from the other side of the room. Yennefer looked up at him, squinting angrily.

“She likes it,” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was challenging you, testing you to see if you would really do this with Yennefer or if he was saying it because he genuinely wanted to make it good for you or if he was trying to direct his own little fantasy. Whatever his motivation, Yennefer slid one soft hand around your throat and gripped the sides as her other hand traveled lower, dipping between your legs to your already aching core.

“Show me how you like it,” Yennefer said, her words soft but commanding and you snaked a hand down to hers, aiding her in setting a rhythm you knew quite well. It felt different coming from her. Better.

“Poor Jaskier,�� she sighed, keeping her eyes on your face and body as you reacted to her touch, gasps barely escaping your lips as her hand stayed wrapped around your throat, “It must sting to see you fall apart under my touch, knowing that your body isn’t a tune crafted for his voice alone. No, you are a symphony that any maestro may play with your permission. And you conduct so well.”

You were torn by her words, instinctively wanting to stand up for Jaskier but too distracted by the way her fingers slid inside of you. She didn’t thrust with her fingers, she continued to explore, curling and caressing and you weren’t entirely convinced she wasn’t using some of her magic as well but if she was you weren’t complaining. You couldn’t do anything but try to breathe and lay writhing and helpless underneath her as she drove you to the brink and pushed you off of it without so much as breaking a sweat. It was unnerving how calm she was while you thrashed beneath her, how loving and tender her expression as she released your throat, how soft her kisses as she praised you for being so good for her, thanking you for coming so beautifully.

“Right we’re done here,” Geralt growled, standing up abruptly.

“Sit down,” you barked, shocking yourself as much as Geralt. Yennefer gave him an amused smile.

“You heard her,” she said, “Do what she says or you can’t stay and you want to stay, don’t you? You’re hating this but you’re loving it too.”

Geralt’s fist were clenched at his side but he took his seat next to Jaskier who stared, riveted.

“When you said we can’t move you just meant we can’t stand right?” Jaskier asked. Yennefer looked to you for the answer. You sat up and considered Jaskier. He sat, white knuckled as he gripped the sides of the sofa, face flush and eyes darkened with lust. You could see the clear, hard outline of his cock straining against the trousers that kept it pent back and you knew what he asked. You also knew that he had been a little shit and he saw the malicious smile creep over your lips, dread darkening his features.

“Don’t move a single muscle. It’s your turn to watch as another performs, Bard,” you said, the final word a little barb neither Yennefer or Geralt picked up on but Jaskier glowered at you dangerously. Some called their partners Sir or Master when roles were performed but you called him Bard, a word usually thrown at him dismissively becoming a treasured titled as you moaned it when he was roughly fucking you. You knew you would be punished for using the private title saved for him while your hands were on another, but you were feeling particularly bold and besides, he may have picked up a few tricks by the time the two of you were done.

You turned to Yennefer and she waited, giving you a look that was equal parts amused and intrigued. You hadn’t talked through what you’d do or how far you’d go but if you knew anything about sex it was that it was just good manners to at least try and make sure everyone left equally satisfied. And by the gods, if nothing else, you had good manners.

“Lie down please,” you asked kindly.

“Or what’ll you do? Spank me?” Yennefer teased playfully as she made a point to crawl slowly around you before stretching out on the bed, putting on a show for Geralt who was emitting a low, snarling sound that scared you and urged you on all at once.

“Maybe another time,” you said, slowly parting her robe and letting it fall away. You’d seen her in glimpses but now she lay before you in her entirety and you sighed softly, eyes roaming her body with a serene look on your face.

“There will be no other time,” Jaskier growled. You didn’t respond, focusing only on the woman beneath you as you kissed her soft lips, trailing kisses down her neck and lower.

“No marks,” Geralt said, voice deadly serious. You looked up at him, your face framed by Yennefer’s breasts.

“No marks,” he repeated. It was a boundary and you would respect that though you envied his freedom to mark her as he wished and claim her body. You would make the most of this time you had her, though, Geralt be damned. Yennefer’s hands stroked your hair, fingers digging into your scalp as you moved lower, past the plane of her stomach and lower still. You paused, slightly nervous but filled with determination.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Yennefer said.

“You can tell me to stop too,” you reminded her, worried that you were crossing a line.

“I know,” she said, giving you a smile, “But I don’t want you to.”

This was all of the encouragement you needed and you gently nudged her legs further apart, settling between them, ignoring the dual gasps and growl of protest from across the room, focusing only on the way Yennefer relaxed her body and nestled a hand in your hair.

You gently parted her with your fingers, sliding them softly and carefully at first as you grew familiar with the territory, enjoying the way her stomach twitched and her hands clenched a little as your strokes grew longer and deeper. You slid your tongue along the same path your fingers had traced, pulling a low moan from Yennefer as you brushed against her clit softly, just barely grazing it. You knew that sharing the same part didn’t mean she’d respond the exact same way but you still fall back on what Jaskier had done for you that had felt good, teasing the most sensitive part but making sure not to ignore any other part of her from the thighs you kissed and bit to the entrance you tongued. She murmured words of encouragement through her moans, guiding you with her instructions and her hand firmly moving your head where she wanted it, pulling moans from you as you reveled under being used so roughly yet so tenderly. When her words stopped and you felt her body tighten you kept the rhythm you’d been set at, focusing hard to not change anything that could pull her away from her release and when she came it was your word on her lips, her taste in your mouth, a moment unique to the both of you that you knew you would keep close forever.

#Anonymous #yennefer x reader #yennefer imagines #smut #reader request

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karmaholmes221 · 3 years

Text

Vicomte de Phantom

Part 9- The Manager's Office

The love story of Raoul and Christine is timeless, how they overcame everything to be with one another, but there is much more to their story than that... there was another woman, Raoul's first wife. The first Vicomtesse de Changy. And she was just as much a part of the story as any other character.

I clutched several letters to my chest, my skirts shifting around me as I walked quickly into the manager’s office, which contained a desk and several chairs, both covered in papers. Firmin sat staring scornfully at a newspaper article. “‘Mystery after gala night,’ it says, ‘Mystery of soprano's flight!’ Mystified baffled Surete say, we are mystified we suspect foul play!" “ Firmin read out loud, lowering the paper. “Bad news on soprano scene first Carlotta, now Christine! Still, at least the seats get sold gossip's worth its weight in gold." He seemed to catch sight of me in the doorway, as he stood up and gestured me further into the room. "What a way to run a business! Spare me these unending trials! Half your cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers! Opera! To hell with Gluck and Handel, it's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles!”

There was a stomping behind me and I moved away as Andre burst in, in a temper. “Damnable! Will they all walk out? This is damnable!”

Firmin moved to stand beside his colleague. “Andre, please don't shout. It's publicity! And the take is vast! Free publicity!”

Andre’s voice came out as a strangled cry. “But we have no cast.”

“But Andre, have you seen the queue?” Firmin asked calmly before spying the letters in my hand. He gave an annoyed wave of his hand and I took that as my cue to begin to read.

I quickly opened the first of the letters and began to read. "Dear Andre what a charming gala! Christine enjoyed a great success! We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left, otherwise the chorus was entrancing, but the dancing was a lamentable mess!" I glanced up at their distraught faces and opened the next letter. "Dear Firmin, just a brief reminder: my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost, by return of post. P.T.O.: No-one likes a debtor, so it's better if my orders are obeyed!" I read aloud.

The managers shared a look. “Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a puerile brain”

Firmin took both of the letters from me and examined them. “These are both signed "O.G.". “

“Who the hell is he?” Andre snapped.

A look of realization overcame both of them. “Opera ghost!”

“It's really not amusing!” Firmin said, unamused.

“He's abusing our position!” Andre snapped

“In addition he wants money!”

Their voices merged together as they continued to speak. “He's a funny sort of spectre to expect a large retainer! Nothing plainer, he is clearly quite insane!”

I jerked around as my husband stalked into the building, turning to face the managers, one of Erik’s notes in his hand. “Where is she?”

“You mean your wife?” Andre asked.

“I mean Miss Daae, where is she?” Raoul snapped.

Firmin gave him an exasperated look. “Well, how should we know?”

”I want an answer. I take it that you sent me this note?” Raoul accused, holding up the envelope.

“What's all this nonsense?” Firmin questioned.

“Of course not!” Andre ordered and Firmin quickly jumped in as well.

“Don't look at us!”

“She's not with you, then?” Raoul asked almost surprised.

“Of course not!” Firmin said, repeating what his partner had just said.

“We're in the dark. “ Andre assured.

“Monsieur, don't argue, isn't this the letter you wrote?” Raoul snapped holding up Erik’s letter.

“And what is it, that we're meant to have wrote?” Firmin questioned hotly before realizing his mistake. “Written!”

Raoul held out the letter and I lunged forward, snatching it from him, rolling my eyes at the surprised look on his face as I ripped open the letter and began to read aloud. "Do not fear for Miss Daae. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again."

“If you didn't write it, who did?” Raoul asked the mystified managers as I tried desperately to find my voice to ask about what Erik meant by see her again.

The doors were thrown open and Carlotta burst in. She carried a letter as well and look no more cheered about it than the others were. “Where is he?” She snapped as the managers rushed to meet her.

“Ah, welcome back!” Andre began before Carlotta cut him off.

“Your precious patron, where is he?”

“What is it now?” Raoul inquired, unimpressed.

Carlotta’s eyes fixed on Raoul and a murderous look crossed her face. “I have your letter; a letter which I rather resent!”

Firmin turned to Raoul and asked quietly “And did you send it?"

Raoul glared. “Of course not!”

“As if he would!” Andre sassed.

Carlotta narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You didn't send it?"

“Of course not!” Raoul repeated.

“What's going on?” Firmin questioned, tired of being ignored.

“You dare to tell me, that this is not the letter you sent?!” Carlotta sneered waving the letter around and I stepped forward to take it from her.

“And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?” Raoul snapped looking to me as I quickly pulled the letter from the envelope and read it.

"Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Christine Daae will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune, should you attempt to take her place." I looked up from the card to glance at the managers, who were obviously beginning to tire of the intrigue.

They moved forward and each of them took one of Carlotta’s arms their voices joining to become one. “Far too many notes for my taste and most of them about Christine! All we've heard since we came is Miss Daae's name.“

Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Madame Giry and Meg and moved to stand beside them, already well aware of their message. They were here to give the news of Christine’s reappearance. Giry silently handed me yet another letter. “Miss Daae has returned.” the managers turned sharply to face her.

“I trust her midnight oil is well and truly burned.” Firmin stated drily.

“Where precisely is she now?” Andre questioned.

“I thought it best that she went home.” Giry said simply and Meg stepped forward.

“She needed rest.”

Raoul moved forward. “May I see her?”

“No, monsieur, she will see no-one.” Giry said, glancing between me and Raoul.

“Will she sing? Will she sing?” Carlotta snapped, angrily.

“Here, I have a note.” I said and Carlotta lunged toward me.

“Let me see it!” She shrieked and Raoul threw an arm out, keeping her from crashing into me.

“Please!” Firmin snapped, gesturing for me to read.

I glanced around and cleared my throat. "Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theatre is to be run. You have not followed my instructions, I shall give you one last chance. Christine Daae has returned to you and I am anxious her career should progress in the new production of "Il Muto". You will therefore cast Carlotta as the Pageboy and put Miss Daae in the role of Countess. The role which Miss Daae plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, Gentlemen, Your obedient servant, O.G."

“Christine!” Carlotta screeched, outraged.

“Whatever next?” Andre snapped

“It's all a ploy to help Christine!” Carlotta continued.

“This is insane.” Firmin exclaimed.

Carlotta quickly shouted out. “I know who sent this;” she jabbed an accusing finger at my husband. “The Vicomte; her lover!” I turned to face Raoul, wondering deep down if this was true.

Raoul wrapped an arm around my waist. “Indeed?” Raoul said, irony dripping in his voice before turning his attention to the others. “Can you believe this?”

“Signora!” Andre protested.

“O traditori!” Carlotta continued, in a fit of rage as the managers continued to try and sooth her.

“This is a joke!”

“This changes nothing!”

“O mentitori!” Carlotta screeched at them and they tried again to calm her.

“Signora!” Firmin tried.

“You are our star!” Andre followed.

“And always will be!”

“Signora.”

“The man is mad”

“We don't take orders!”

“Miss Daae will be playing the Pageboy, the silent role.” Firmin announced to everyone.

Andre, catching on joined in. “Carlotta will be playing the lead!”

Carlotta ignored them and continued with waxing melodrama that only she could accomplish. “It's useless trying to appease me! You're only saying this to please me! Signori, Š vero? Non, non, non voglio udire! Lasciatemi morire! O padre mio! Dio!”

“Who scorn his word, beware to those the angel sees, the angel knows.” I warned as Carlotta turned on the manager's again.

“You have reviled me!” she turned from them and began to make her way through the opera, the managers on her heels and the Girys, Raoul and I following after. “You have rebuked me!”

“Signora, pardon us.” The managers spoke.

“You have replaced me!” Carlotta snapped.

“Please, Signora, we beseech you.” The managers were beginning to sound desperate.

“This hour shall see your darkest fears.” I warned.

“I must see her.” Raoul and Meg said together

“Abbandonata! Deseredata! O, sventurata!” Carlotta continued.

Giry moved forward and took my am. “The angel knows, the angel hears.”

“Where did she go?” Raoul asked quietly, speaking to no one in particular.

“Abbandonata! Disgraziata!” Carlotta continued.

“Signora, sing for us! Don't be a martyr.” the managers begged.

“What new surprises lie in store?” Giry’s, Meg’s and mine voices became one as we all looked to Carlotta.

The managers approached her lovingly. “Your public needs you!” Andre said dramatically.

“We need you, too!” Firmin added.

“Would you not rather have your precious little ingenue?” Carlotta said, unassuaged, her lips curling into an unappealing sneer at the last word.

“Signora, no! The world wants you!” the two managers quickly disagreed before the two adopted their most persuasive attitudes and I rolled my eyes, disgusted by the scene in front of me. “Prima donna first lady of the stage! Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!”

“Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?” Andre questioned.

“Think of how they all adore you!” Firmin said sweetly before there voices merged again..

“Prima donna, enchant us once again!

“Think of your muse.”

“And of the queues round the theatre!”

“Can you deny us the triumph in store? Sing, prima donna, once more!”

Carlotta smiled and nodded, registering her acceptance as the managers continued to cajole her while the three of us watched.

“Christine spoke of an angel.” Raoul murmured.

“Prima donna your song shall live again!” Carlotta said to herself in triumph.

“Think of your public!” The managers said to Carlotta

“You took a snub but there's a public who needs you!” Carlotta continued.

“She has heard the voice of the angel of music.” Giry murmured to me and I knew immediately that she was talking about Christine.

“Those who hear your voice liken you to an angel!” The managers complimented.

“Think of their cry of undying support!” Carlotta sang.

”Is this her angel of music?” Raoul said and I gazed around the room, looking for some sign that Erik was listening.

Andre leaned over and whispered to Firmin. “We get our opera."

“She gets her limelight” Firmin replied in the same tone.

“Follow where the limelight leads you! You'll sing again, and to unending ovation!” Carlotta sang, caught up in the moment.

“Is this ghost an angel or a madman?” Giry asked, almost silently.

“Leading ladies are a trial!” The managers whispered.

“This miscasting will invite damnation.” I whispered to Madame Giry and she nodded.

“Tears. oaths. Lunatic demands are regular occurrences!” The two managers said with annoyance before the persuasive looks returned.

“Bliss or damnation? Which has claimed her?” Meg asked.

“Think how you'll shine in that final encore! Sing, prima donna, once more!” Carlotta said, a far away look in her eyes.

”Oh fools, to have flouted his warnings!” I snapped loudly.

“Surely he'll strike back.” Meg whispered to me.

“Surely there'll be further scenes, worse than this!” The managers said simply.

”I must see these demands are rejected!” Raoul said, a set look in his eye

“Who'd believe a diva happy to relieve a chorus girl, who's gone and slept with the patron? Raoul and the soubrette, entwined in love's duet! Although he may demur, he must have been with her!” I tried desperately to ignore the managers as they continued to talk about my husband and Christine. “You'd never get away with all this in a play, but if it's loudly sung and in a foreign tongue it's just the sort of story audiences adore, in fact a perfect opera!” Firmin and Andre said.

“His game is over!’ Raoul said confidently and I gripped his arm, trying to gain his attention.

“This is a game you cannot hope to win!” I warned, my voice growing desperate.

“And in Box Five a new game will begin.” Raoul said and my grip on his arm tightened.

“For, if his curse is on this opera…” I trailed off and Meg spoke.

“But if his curse is on this opera”

“Prima donna the world is at your feet! A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!” Andre and Firmin continued, in their element.

“The stress that falls upon a famous prima donna! Terrible diseases, coughs and colds and sneezes! Still, the dryest throat will reach the highest note, in search of perfect opera!” Carlotta’s voice carried, filling the room.

I glanced around me, worried about what would happen if Erik were listening. “then I fear the outcome.”

“Christine plays the Pageboy, Carlotta plays the Countess.” Raoul mumbled.

I continued as if he wasn’t there. “should you dare to” Meg’s voice overlaid mine as she joined in. “when you once again,”

Our voices all merged together. “Light up the stage with that age old rapport! Sing, prima donna, once more!”

Out of nowhere the Phantom’s voice boomed out. “So, it is to be war between us! If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!”

I felt fear grip my heart and I looked to my husband, praying that he wouldn’t be collateral damage in this war.

#romance #phantom #opera #phantom of the opera #erik destler #raoul #pto #fanfiction #vicomte de phantom #part 9

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jane-fucking-seymour · 4 years

Text

Slander, Libel and Blasphemy

I owed @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts a fic SK here y’all go

Jane was told not to read this article.

That’s exactly what Katherine had said to her, having stormed into Cathy’s room the night before, angrily yelling about things that Jane couldn’t really hear thanks to the other sounds of the flat and surrounding area. She did, however, hear “how could they say that about Edward?,” which made Jane more than curious about what was going on.

She had tried to talk to Kat about it, but the girl refused to say anything, winded from her yelling at Cathy. Instead, she had asked to go downstairs, to be excused from the conversation. Jane obviously let her, though it did not quell her worry.

Later that night, Katherine had “wandered” into the living room, curled up to Jane, and went on and on about how brilliant Edward was, how he reminded Kat of Jane, of how she can see his mother in him now that she’s met her.

It’s all but confirmed that she needed to find whatever Katherine had read.

She goes to her number one suspect: Catherine Parr. Before she even opens her mouth, Cathy gives her a sympathetic smile and a magazine.

“Page 74,” Cathy says. “I won’t deny you knowledge, but...” she frowns. “It’s rough. And, from my personal experience, I can say that she’s wrong.”

[[MORE]]

Jane simply nods silently and moves away, back to the living room, where it was safe from Katherine’s observant gaze and away from anyone that could possibly hear her, if she kept her voice down at least.

She takes a deep breath, opens the page to 74, and her heart instantly shatters.

The title:

“Edward Could Have Been Worse Than His Father If He Had Lived Long Enough”

Jane sucks in a deep breath, tears already starting to form. She reads word after word, paragraph after paragraph, the details of the argument fueling a rage inside of her that she hasn’t felt since back then.

They call him cold and heartless.

They call him strict and emotionless.

They don’t call him her son.

It’s like she’s reading about some other boy, about someone that truly isn’t Edward. How could they vilify him so much? He was just a boy, he died so early, and people had the gall to still desecrate his name and image centuries after his last breath.

Was he truly to be the villain if he lived longer?

Had she failed as a mother in more ways than she originally anticipated?

What did this mean?

Before she realized what she was doing, Jane was on her feet, moving upstairs. She moved past Anne’s room, past Anna’s, past Cathy’s and Katherine’s and her own, straight to...

“Jane?”

The sleep in Catherine of Aragon’s voice made it clear that Jane’s sudden barging in had woken her up. Maria, who had been visiting overnight, sat up from her side of the bed with a curious look.

“Jane, what’s wrong? It’s 2 AM-“ Catherine starts, looking at the clock, but her attention is immediately diverted to the article that Jane thrusts in front of her.

Catherine turns on the nightstand, wincing at the light, before she looks down at the magazine. Maria reads over her shoulder, gaze going from curious to angry to sympathy.

“Oh, Jane-“

“They said he would have been a monster,” Jane growls out with anger she hasn’t expressed in decades. “They said he would have turned.... h-he would have turned out like him. Like Henry.”

“He wouldn’t have, Jane,” Catherine tries, but Jane is seeing red, a rare display of raw emotion from the third queen.

“Do they even know what they’re doing when they write this shite?” Jane asks, voice a harsh whisper. “Do they understand that he was a child, that’s what he is. He wasn’t even a young adult when he died, he was a child. And they just... they try to murder his reputation for what?” She shakes her head, shaking with anger. “They take my boy and they make him-“

“Into a monster,” Catherine finishes the sentence. Jane stops and turns to half-face Catherine. Maria has gently hugged the girl from behind, but even in the pale moonlight Jane can tell that no tears will be shed by the first. “I can relate to that. Then turning your child into a monster.”

It suddenly strikes Jane why she came here in the first place.

It calms Jane down a bit, starting to catch her breath. “I didn’t-“

“I know,” Catherine says, understanding and soft. “I know. But I think you also did know, in a way. I think you understood.”

Jane looks away in shame, and Catherine chuckles.

“So theyre trying to push this narrative on little Eddie, huh?” Catherine asks, tone a bit more playful and amused than it probably should be. “He was brilliant, from what I heard from Cathy.”

“He was,” Jane says, tone resolute. “He absolutely was. And he would have been if he hadn’t-“

“He had Cathy,” Catherine replies, giving the magazine to Maria to read through fully. “He wouldn’t have. He loved her.”

Jane nods. “Like she was his mother, yeah.”

A moment of silence, then Jane continues.

“I don’t blame him. Cathy is... and incredible woman.”

“She is,” Catherine agrees. “And she raised him well, when you couldn’t. Same with Elizabeth, same with my Mary.”

Catherine gently stands, moving to Jane and pulling her into a hug.

“It’s okay, love. They’re going to do this regardless of what we do. It will be okay.”

“It all sounds like a fanfic or something,” Maria mumbles, which gets Jane’s confused attention.

“A what?”

“What Maria is trying to say,” Catherine butts in, “is that this is all someone’s theory. That it’s not something that people actually believe, it’s just something that someone’s made up.”

“Which means the narrative hasn’t set in yet,” Maria says. “You don’t have centuries of so-called “history” to dismantle. You’ve got a few theories and short stories to debunk.”

“It’s a good thing,” Catherine assures. “People are already on your side. If you’d like, tomorrow, we can draw up a plan on how to respond.” Catherine smiles, gently pulling back to fix up Jane’s hair and grabs a tissue to dry Jane’s eyes. “I’m sure Cathy and the others would love to pitch in. Most of them knew him, too, after all, and Anne has Elizabeth’s account from the history books. It’s human.” Catherine leans forward, kissing Jane’s head. “And I’m sure it will be enough. With all of us together taking on this rather new theory... I’m sure we can nip it in the bud.”

Jane smiles at that, relief clear on her face. “I... thank you, Catherine. Thank you so much.”

The Spanish Queen smiles and nods, gently leading Jane not to her own room, but to Katherine’s.

“Go on then, Kat is a good cuddle and I’m sure you could use some,” Catherine quips, smiling as Jane gets as close to Kat as possible, tucking both of them in. Katherine, in her sleep, mumbles something and curls into Jane more. Jane chuckles, smoothing out Kat’s hair as she gets comfortable.

Catherine steps out of the room, leaving the duo to their slumber, and quietly returns to her own room, where Maria was still reading.

“This is rubbish,” Maria mumbles as Catherine moves into the bed. “It’s the same author as the one that wrote that hit piece on Mary the other day.”

“It wasn’t really,” Catherine says with a sigh. “That was far more factual. She didn’t put in her thoughts until the end, and I think she made some good points. Whatever drivel she wrote about Edward, though, is just... well, I don’t know what else to call it but rubbish.”

Maria nods, tossing the magazine onto the floor and letting Catherine curl up.

“We’ll make sure it doesn’t get farther than it is,” Catherine says with a nod. “I’ve no doubt in my mind that this will all be sorted once we get everyone together in the morning.”

Maria nods. “You’re a very good person, Catalina.”

Catherine chuckles. “He doesn’t deserve to be fed to the wolves. He was a child. And, if I’m being honest... I don’t know if my Mary would agree with me, but I don’t want Edwards legacy to be tarnished more than it has been.”

Maria sighs, murmuring in Spanish, and Catherine has to laugh before she simply burrows her head in the crook of Maria’s neck.

“Quiet you,” Catherine quips. “Bedtime, or I’m kicking you back to the living room.”

“Can’t believe you thought I was going to sleep on the couch after a full day of dealing with the cousin’s antics,” Maria mumbles, but she settles and Catherine soon falls into a light sleep.

She dreams of Mary. Of what could have been.

Of how she didn’t have the chance Jane currently does.

Of how, tomorrow, she will change that.

#six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction

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freshdefendorcollectorstuff · 4 years

Text

Tyler & The Demon’s Flower.

Kun:Nyeheh...,I Was Thinking About My 1st,"Carcat",Story...,¡¿Perhaps I'll Should Do It Today?,Yep, Indeed...,'Zis Fantastic & Magical,"Wildtoonz", Tale Gonna Be Called:"Tyler N' The Demon's Flower...",Where Wildcat Is a Kind,And Always Shy Florist From All Entire Indianapolis,Tennessee,That’ll Loves Selling Flowers To His Customers,And,Yeet,Marcel’s Ex-Wife,Miss Cunningham,(Simone,Who Is a Holy Mother),Runs Fast To Tyler's Own Shop Along Speakin' Something Which Tells:"!My Husband Hath Begone Really Sick Along Coughing & Even Sneezing!",And Then,When She Is Gone To Florida...,Father Marcel Arrives In a Rainy Night To Tell Him 'Bout His Own Sickness,Yet,a Storm Comes Quickly,& Marcel Is Worried That Leviathan Should Awake From His 1.000 Year Sleep,Yet Then...,An' Mysterious Couple Arrive At His Shop Seeking For a Flower Named,"Ricinus S Diabolix"...,(Devil's Tulip),Yet,Suddenly,Father Marcel Makes a Circle Along White Watered Salt & Throws an Bottle Of Sacred Turquoise Water At 'Em...,While,Meanwhile,Our Demon Strangers Never Know 'Bout a Really Wicked Plan To Rob That Precious Flower From Him & Dominate The Universe Along It...,But,¿Shall They Stop Him & His Undead Army...,or Wildcat Will Be Connected To The Demon's Heart Forever?..., Let's Begin...,(Agh...,Here I’ll Go...,Pfffft,This Is Where Piggy & Demon Are Our Main Characters):

Prologue:"A Rainy Night..."

Tyler Wilde:"At Last...",*Opening His Flower Shop In Indianapolis,Rose Valley Delivery*,(He Has His 1st Assistant,Jon/Del,Whom Was Picked Up By Tyler As a Baby).

Jon:"¿What're You Doin' In 'Ere All Alone, Sir?".

Florist!Tyler:*Sigh*,"My Girlfriend Put Me In Charge Of All Delivery When We Broke Up...",(Yes,In This Scene,I Mention Kelly,Tyler's IRL Girlfriend...,Whom Was His Wife & Co-Owner In All Delivery...,And Also,Everyone Is 'Ere In This Looooong Tale).

Jon:"Goodness...,I'm Very Sorry That She Leave You Along Me In Our Business Now,Boss...".

Florist!Tyler:"Indeed.".

*Now,Wilde Closes His Delivery,And He Goes To a Cafe To Drink a Mocca...*

Florist!Tyler:"Okay...","I Need Something To Relax...".

Liz,(Deli's Date,And Waitress Of,"Genay's Coffee Shop"):"Hello,Tyler...,¿Care For an' Mocca?".

Wildcat:"Yes...,¿Um...,Where Is Your Boss?".

Liz:"I...,I Guess I'll Gonna Call Her...".

Tyler:*Entwining His Fingers*,"I'll Be Waiting Outside...".

*Bump*.

Genay:"You Came,Wildcat...",*Throwing Her Jacket Out*.

Florist!Tyler:"Seems Like You'll Were Busy Attending The Scouts On Your Camp...".

Genay:"Heh,I Guess...".

Florist!Tyler:"¿Do You'll Have Mocca?".

Genay:*Smiling Warmly*,"Yes...,Sit Down And I'll Bring Ya One...".

Florist!Tyler:"Thanks...".

*Later,After He Drinks It...*

Florist!Tyler:"Mmm...,That Was Relaxing...".

Genay:"I Hope You Enjoyed It,Sweetie...".

*Meanwhile...,Back In His Delivery..., Someone Arrives Quickly...*

Florist!Tyler:"The Ricinus Setiferum Diabolix Is a Very Rare Plant Which Had Been Kept By Me During Few Years...".

Mother Simone,(Marcel's Girlfriend):"Child Of God...".

Florist!Tyler:"Yup...".

Mother Simone:"!Ah,I'm So Happy To See You!".

Florist!Wildcat:"¿Did You Got News 'Bout My Pal,The Pastor?",(Though Marcel Is Our 1st Religious Figure On This Tale...,Simone Is Included As His Dear One).

Mother Simone:"Seems Like He Got Sick...".

Tyler:"This Is Bad...".

Mother Simone:"Don't Worry,Young One...".

Tyler:"I Hope He Gets Better...".

*Suddenly,After The Mother Is Gone..., Pastor Cunningham Finally Appears...*

Pastor Marcel:"!Wilde!",*Sneezing While He Coughs*.

Tyler:"Oh,Dear Pastor...,*Distancing 1 Meter Away*,I Knew You'll Were Sick...".

Pastor Marcel:"Hush...,¿Have Thou Got That Flower?".

Tyler:"Yep...".

Pastor Marcel:"The Ricinus Setiferum Diabolix...,!It Is Forbidden By Me Like a Holy Prophecy That'll The Grand Lord Said:!When The Final Judgement Comes And Leviathan Wakes Up From His Nap,Thunders Shall Strike From The Sky..., Only Meaning That One Of The Devil's Heirs Will Arrive At Your Home Any Moment Now!","!But Now,Come With Me To East Beach,Florida,And,Into An' Little Cathedral Which I Own...,You Shall Be Safe There!",(Ending Of Prologue).

*Chapter 2:Journey Ahead...*

Pastor Marcel:"Welcome To South Beach, Young One...".

Tyler:"Wow...,But You Talked That A Rainy Cloud Shall Strike Soon...".

Pastor Marcel:"Heheh...".

*Now,It's Night...,A Rainy Night...*

Pastor Marcel:"!Quick,Let's Go To The Little Cathedral!".

*Inside...*

Tyler:"This Isn't Like My Shop,But It's Really Pretty...".

Pastor Marcel:"Yeah...,Me And Simone Decorated This Church By Ourselves...".

*!Crack,Boom,Crack!*

Pastor Marcel:"I Knew It...".

Florist!Tyler:"¿Did You Smell Something?".

Pastor Marcel:"Hmmm...,*Sniff,Sniff*,"It's A Red Dust...".

Florist!Tyler:"That...,Is A Demon...",’’No...,They’re 2...’’.

Pastor Marcel:*Taking Out a Bottle Of Holy Water & Sea Salt While Drawing a Circle Around 2 Mysterious Figures*,"!In All Name Of Lord Jesus,God And All Holy Spirits,I,Pastor Cunningham,I’ll Banish Thee To Heck,Forbidden Ones¡’’.

Wildcat:"Amen...".

???:*Hissing*.

???:"Your Majesty...,¿Are You Okay?".

Tyler:"¿Wait a Second...,Demon,Hath Thou Say Highness?",*Looking Angrily At an Ancient Demon Whom Got a Golden Crown & Wears a Cloaked Robe*,"Ah..., These Must Be The Forbidden Ya Were Saying...".

???:"¿!How Dare You,Silly Human?!",*Opening An' Eye Which Got a X Scar*.

Tyler:"I Think That This Fella Has 1 Eye...,¿Do You Say He's Blind?".

Pastor Marcel:"...,Yeah...".

???:*Chuckling Darkly While Getting All Mist Outta His Entire Body & Revealing His Other Form...*,"I Am...,Ifrit...".

Tyler:"¿Why Can't You Go Back To Your Devil Form?".

???:*Scratching His Human Beard*,"Well,I'm a Demon When I Get Mad...,Yet, This Is M' True Form...,Due,Now,Call Me,"Luke...",& When I Shapeshift,I’m a Ifrit,One Of All Highest Kings Of Hell In All Ars Goetia...",(Toonz Is Ifrit,Indeed).

???:"Hahah...",(Satt,Who Is Cartoonz's Loyal Imp,Belphegor).

Florist Tyler:"Interesting...".

Ifrit/Luke:"Yep...,By The Way,This Is My Dear Henchman/Vizier,Mike Misetich...".

Pastor Cunningham:"¿Do You Need Help From Us?".

Prince Ifrit:"Indeed.","I'm Sure...".

(End Of 1st Chapter).

Author's Note:Well,Well,Well,I Hope That You Enjoyed This Story,Yeet,Like Y'all Knew,I’m Doing a Amazing,Due Long And Grand Poly,’’Wildtoonz’’,Tale,(I Didn’t Include Mini & Lui In This Because There Hath Been Some,’’Problems’’,Along Pedop*ilia,And Stalking Girls With Ohm...:(

@visionaryinsomniac @crimsonbluemoon @crazy-cakez

*Ep. 3:King Gallmaxun’s Scheme...*

(¡Prepare Yourselves,Humans¡),¡Here Comes The Main Villain,Brock Barrus,(Moo),Aka King Gallmaxun...>:3

???:*Sitting In His Throne Of Skulls While Grumbling To Himself*,’’Grr...,¡I Killed My Father,(Cartoonz’s/Ifrit’s Pops),In All Coronation Ceremony,And Now,I’ve Got His Realm By Myself,But Today,I Will Need To Hire 3 Mercs Who Will Be Rid Of My Stepson Ifrit...¡,¡Argh¡’’.

???:’’¡Yes,Lord Gall¡’’.

???:’’Once That I’ll Obtain The Ricinus Setiferum,¡No One Shall Stop Me¡’’, ’’¡Hahahaha¡’’,’’But,Man...,¡My Plan Gonna Become Really...,Really...,Really Successful¡’’.

???:’’¡Yes¡’’.

???:’’Yes...,Indeed...’’.

(Author’s Note:This Ep. Is Really Short,But.After All,I Shall Keep Writing More In ‘Zis Lovely App)...,Heh,Heh,Heh...>:3,Yet,Hahahahah...,If Anyone Can Create a Fanart Of This Story..., Tag Me With,’’Marysartstyle_tylernthedemonsflower’’...

#wildtoonz #oh geez #👹🐷#im so so happy #tylerandthedemon'sflower #angstwillcomesoon #>:3 #iknowthatthiswillbelong #iwilltageveryone

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thatsaltybobcat · 4 years

Text

Jealous Type part 3

Realized I never posted it here? Well, here you guys go!

~~~~

On any day, the lobby of the hotel was abuzz with conversation, it was where the small group spent most of their time. Whether it be Angel Dust flirting with Husk, or Nifty singing to herself as she relentlessly cleaned, there was always some form of communication. Today was no different. The lobby was abuzz with more than lively conversations.

There was screaming…

“I walked in on the two of you!” Vaggie hissed, pointing aggressively towards Charlie and Alastor, her shoulders trembling with rage and sorrow. Her hair was unkempt, certainly due to her several days away from the hotel. Her clothes were dirty and her breath was still tainted by the scent of alcohol. It was probably why she still had the courage to be where she was now, spear in hand, screaming her lungs out at the scandalous pair in front of her. “He had his hands-” Her mind was so frazzled with anger the argument she had planned in her head was nothing more than a jumbled mess of thoughts. ”... And YOUR HANDS WERE ON HIS BELT-”

“Vaggie, please!” Charlie choked out, trying to keep Vaggie from going into detail about what she exactly saw in the kitchen several days ago. Her hands up in a vain attempt to calm the demoness in front of her down. Glancing nervously over at Alastor, who just watched Vaggie with a smug grin on his face. Of course, he was enjoying this.

Charlie’s gaze flitted over to the bar, where Husk, Angel Dust, and Nifty sat quietly with half-filled drinks. They had all been sitting there beforehand, talking about where Vaggie must have gone, and how worried Charlie was. Everyone had gone quiet when Alastor feigned ignorance. Simply stating that she’ll be home soon.

No one dared recount that Vaggie had possibly seen Charlie and Alastor together, after all, they had no proof. By the time Angel Dust and burst into the kitchen with a polaroid camera in one of his hands, the pair had already started a new batch of cookies, dressed in their regular attire and looking wholly inconspicuous. So everyone just nervously shrugged off the interaction. So, when Vaggie then opened the door with a mumble, everyone stood up to meet her.

When Charlie went to pull Vaggie into a hug, gushing about how worried she had been, she almost accepted the embrace. Just hoping that maybe this could all be forgotten, that maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her and she really didn’t see the two of them together.

Then she saw the Radio Demon, bringing up the rear in the possé as they circled around her. That smile… that knowing cocky grin was enough proof. And, it set Vaggie off.

“Don’t touch me!” Vaggie spat, pushing Charlie away from her. Much to everyone’s surprise. It was enough to send the three bystanders backing up towards the bar, reading the room that- plainly speaking- shit was about to hit the fan. “I know,” Vaggie growled, glaring daggers at Charlie and Alastor, who were now standing side by side.

“You k-know?” Charlie asked in false ignorance, crossing her arms over her chest to hug herself as she attempted to play off the situation. “I’m sorry hun but… I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The obvious lying is mostly likely what finally pushed Vaggie over the edge. The nerve Charlie had to outright lie to her. That’s where they stood now, Vaggie continuing to shout profanities and accusations at the pair in front her. Unleashing all the rage and pent up frustration she’s had since she stormed out of the hotel several days ago.

Charlie’s face was red and tear-stained as she scrambled to find a way to say something… anything to make this situation better. But, there isn’t much to rectify a situation that was so raw… so public. It wasn’t something that could just be solved with a quick apology or some time to think about one another’s actions.

“Vaggie… I know that you’re upset, okay?” Charlie started slowly, intertwining her fingers together as she tried to put the words together very carefully. “If… Maybe we could just go upstairs, or maybe somewhere more private to have this conversation. Then maybe-”

“LAS TONTERIAS! W-we’re doing this right here! I’m not giving this talk-show shitlord a chance to weasel is way out of this! He did this just to get under my skin, I saw the way he smiled at me in the kitchen. He knew exactly what he was doing!” Vaggie accused, pointing directly at Alastor with a glare that would kill if it could. “He wanted me to catch you two, just so he could get a reaction!”

“Okay, Vaggie that’s absolutely ridiculous! W-why in hell would Alastor do something like that?” Charlie countered, looking over at Alastor in confusion. But, he only kept that same smile plastered on his face and remained silent, but Charlie could see the fang whirring of dials behind his eyes.

Alastor’s hands were tucked behind his back, standing perfectly still at he watched the moth demon in front of him rant and rave. It really was too entertaining, seeing her carry on like this. She lacked form and coherent thought, running on pure instincts at this point. Almost like a caged wild animal, frenzied by their capture and desperate for freedom. It made him… hungry. He’d have to go hunting tonight to try and satiate himself, he mentally noted. But for now, there was something very entertaining unraveling in front of him.

“Whatever! Y-you know what? It doesn’t matter! It really doesn’t! Because I know he’d do anything to hurt me because it’s fun for him. But you-” Vaggie choked on the word, fighting back tears with just more anger. Don’t cry, not over this, not over her. She’s doesn’t deserve to see you cry. Furiously wiping her face with a groan, she continued “You let him get to me. You cheated on me, with him!”

“Vaggie… I know that you’re upset. You have every right to be, but if we could just-” Charlie started, reaching out to try and comfort her girlfriend. But her hand was slapped away just inches from connecting with Vaggie’s shoulder, causing Charlie with flinch back.

“DON’T touch me!” Vaggie hissed, the coldness her tone catching everyone off guard.

Husk quietly hid behind the counter, toweling off a champagne flute, really making sure it was spotless. Nifty had shrunk back in her seat and was quietly following Husk’s lead, using a napkin to buff at a smudge on the countertop. Even Angel Dust- who would usually be asking for popcorn and a camera to record a conversation like this- had his arms crossed in front of him and silently tried to ignore the scene in front of him.

Charlie was starting to grow desperate, shoulders starting to tremble as she tried to keep the situation calm. “Hun, can we maybe just take this into another room-”

“You had sex with Alastor..” Vaggie growled, her hands balling into fists.

“Vaggie I don’t want to talk about in front of everyone-”

“You fucked the Radio Demon.”

“Please if you could just listen-”

“You FUCKED him in the kitchen, begging for dick like some horny fucking teenager! You didn’t even seem to care about what that might do to me! You were more concerned with getting laid than how I might feel!” Vaggie jabbed angrily, tears starting to well up.

“I’M SORRY!” Charlie sobbed, finally snapping and letting her emotions flood over. “I’m so s-sorry for what I did Vaggie! It was such a horrible thing for me to do to you and I’ll never forgive myself for it!” Charlie helplessly wiped her eyes as she fought to get the words out, trying desperately to get Vaggie to look at her as she continued to heave and cry. “I-it was a stupid accident and I’m sorry!”

“But that isn’t true… now is it, my dear?” Everyone turned to face Alastor when he finally spoke up. He started to circle around Charlie and Vaggie, watching the two of them closely as he did. Ah, the world truly was a stage!

“When something is an accident, it only happens once.” He stopped in front of the bar, fiddling with some random detailing on the hardwood. Husk took a step back to the other side of the bar, while Nifty stared down at her little hands to act like she wasn’t paying attention. Angel Dust looked at though he was watching a train crash, kinda scared but unable to look away. “And… Vaggie I can assure you… While it might ungentlemanly to admit...”

“It wasn’t the first… or last time.”

Sheer shock at his gall was the only thing that kept everyone in their place, Charlie looking absolutely mortified as Alastors smirk widened. Vaggie just stared at him, her face looking completely blank. Alastor wondered if the comment had broken the gray demoness, the notion only egging him to continue.

“And, you’re ‘sorry,’ my demon belle? Perish the thought!” The radio demon continued, walking back behind Charlie. Gently taking her hand in one of his own, another ever so carefully cupping her chin with his clawed fingertips. Tilting her face up so she was looking directly into his scarlet gaze. “You didn’t sound sorry last night.”

The next few seconds were all a blur, at least for Charlie, in one moment she was she beside Alastor, pulled close to him and still in his arms. In the very next, she was shoved back, flailing backwards and only saved from a date with the floor by Angel Dust, who managed to grab her arms and haul her back to her feet. “Woah there blondie, you okay?”

But Charlie wasn’t listening to him, she was watching Alastor and Vaggie. The moth demon and lunged forward towards him, having pushed Charlie out of the way so she could attempt to drive her spear right between Alastors eyes. Pure fury burned in her eyes as she was held steadfast by a firm grip on the blade of the spear.

Alastor’s fingers were wrapped around the weapon, holding it strongly enough for blood to well up around the contact points. He seemed unfazed by the shedding, however, unflinching and smiling unwavering as he watched Vaggie struggle to pull the spear from his grip. Either refusing to let it go.

“My my, such anger!” Alastor purred, his usually vibrant eyes quickly sinking back into pitch blackn. Only to be replaced with madly spinning dials that hissed violently against his head. That ever-present smile splitting wider across his face as static began to engulf the room. Distorting the air around them with a violent echo of screams and whirring machinery.

Only when the static got too loud for her to bear did Vaggie attempted to drop the spear, cutting her losses when her ears began to ring. Instead, the blood that had started to flow down the spear and melted into a trail of pure white static. Trickling down the staff of the weapon and reaching Vaggie’s fists. Where the fuzzy static had grabbed on and was now traveling up her arms. The dark power binding her hands to the weapon, effectively disabling her completely as matching static fronds snaked up her legs to hold them together.

“A valiant effort my dear, I must commend you for that.” Alastor continued, lifting up the spear like it was nothing as he dangled Vaggie from the air a good foot off the ground. “Such silly, ignorant courage. How foolish… how stupid.” The crackling words dripping past his fangs as we watched Vaggie start to squirm in his grip. Her gaze crazed combination of anger and fear.

Oh well, this was a lot of fun, to be sure. But, all good things must come to an end. And, Vaggie only seemed like a nuisance to him now, after all, he already won Charlie’s affections. And this little fiasco was already over now. Lifting his other hand up, claws elongating into terrifying sharp tips as the grin on his face looked like it was about to split the Radio Demon’s head in two. He pressed his fingers close to Vaggie’s exposed neck, relishing the frenzied profanities as she tried to kick his hand away from her. “And, you must know how much I abhor ignorance-”

“ALASTOR STOP!” Charlie screamed, grabbing at his arm and trying to tug his grip away from Vaggie. “You don’t have to do this, please put her down. It isn’t worth it!” She watched Alastor's unwavering malicious grin as his hand was now pressed against Vaggie’s throat, squeezing at her neck until she started to choke out a few desperate gasps in an attempt to catch her breath. Charlie’s blood-red eyes wide with panic as she managed to wedge herself between the two brawling demons. Pressing her hands against Alastor’s face as she tried to gain back his attention. “PLEASE my love!”

The term of endearment was enough to snap Alastor out of his spell. Like a switch, Alastor’s eyes snapped back to normal and the static quickly melted away. Dropping Vaggie like a hot rock with a chuckle as he turned to Charlie again.

Letting his hands press around her waist as he gave her a quick embrace. “But, of course, my dear.” He purred, his softening smile proving to Charlie that he had indeed calmed down. “Of course I was only trying to defend myself,” he added quickly as Charlie eased out of his grip and turned towards Vaggie.

Charlie dropped to Vaggie’s side to help her to her feet. “Vaggie, I’m so sorry. This all got so out of hand and-” But Vaggie wretched herself from Charlie’s grip with a grunt, rubbing furiously at her eyes as she turned away from Charlie.

Husk slowly peered his head out from behind the bar, ears perked as Angel Dust removed his arms from in front of his face, having attempted to shield himself from any incoming shrapnel of the fight. While Nifty remained behind the couch, muttering something about all the dust bunnies that had been trapped back here. But, it sounded like an excuse to not have to witness any more of the drama unfolding in front of her.

Alastor walked up quietly to stand beside Charlie, a hand on her shoulder as he watched Vaggie with a smug look of satisfaction. Charlie didn’t attempt to pull away, watching Vaggie as the demoness played that phrase back over and over in her head.

She called him ‘my love…’ that's why Charlie used to call Vaggie. When they first wake up in the morning, to when they went to bed at night. With that term ripped from her mind, it made this terribly clear for Vaggie. Because after all this arguing, she was more than aware that Charlie hadn’t once asked for forgiveness, nor for another chance. Charlie has made her decision about who she wanted to be by her side, and it wasn’t her.

“Have fun with the Radio Demon Charlie… I hope you know that he’s only ever in it for himself.” Vaggie hugged her arms with a shudder, ignoring Charlie’s attempt at anymore conversation as she walked back out the hotel's front doors.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #charlastor #chalastor #salty stories #alastor #charlie

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athena1138 · 4 years

Text

work rant. tl;dr i’m unbelievably tired.

Things are rough. Blatantly. There’s no other way to say it.

My residents have been locked in their rooms for 10 weeks now, the first 2 of those because one of them brought in a rotovirus that spread like wildfire (even to me.)

I get they’re depressed and lonely and tired and jittery. But I’m over it.

We have one lady who’s literally on her death bed because she stopped taking care of herself. Right now I think she has a UTI because she’s getting up to pee four times an hour. It wouldn’t be a problem for us except that she leaves the light on to get back in bed “because she’s worried about falling” (nevermind she has never once fallen in my 7 months working here,) so she pages us to come turn it off. Four times an hour. Tonight, I said I wasn’t having it. The girl before me had almost had a breakdown trying to keep up with her, but this was her first night dealing with it because she’s been off. Not me. I’ve had four nights dealing with this. So tonight, the lady paged around 11:50 for her light. Fine. In and out. There were a lot of dishes left out in the hall from dinner, so I grabbed a cart and started picking them up. Literally 4 minutes after I left her room, she paged again. Nah. No. She can wait until I’m done, because I know it’s her light. She literally only pages for her light. 4 nights and dozens of pages have cemented this fact for me, so I’m not worried about making her wait a few minutes.

It took me 10 minutes to gather all the dishes, get them rinsed, an rack them so they’re ready for washing in the morning. Within those 10 minutes, she paged FOURTEEN TIMES. FOR HER FUCKING LIGHT. I’m trying to be calm. I’m trying not to get mad. She can’t help it. She’s got very bad dementia, she doesn’t realize how often she’s doing it. But holy fucking shit. We’ve tried talking to her daughter, but she won’t do anything. She’s only come in 2x to get her up and walking around. Like, yes, she needs exercise, but she needs to go to a doctor, too. She also needs a night light because she keeps asking us to leave lights on but the only light she can stand is from her window which i still too dark. I’ve tried literally anything else I could think of--oven light, TV on mute, cracking the bathroom door, moving the bullshit little blue light in her bathroom, nothing. No. Daughter won’t get it.

So there’s that.

We also have a resident who is, quite frankly, an asshole. I can’t stand him. He has done nothing but bitch since lockdown started.

What kills me is that it’s not even things that he used to bitch about. Before, he never ever ate kitchen food except breakfast. He ate lunch and dinner from his own food. Well, since lockdown, he has been getting trays. But he’s bitching about the trays. He’s bitching about being given soup he didn’t ask for, about food being gross, about this, about that, and it’s like dude. Don’t fucking order it if you don’t fucking want it. But it’s not just that. He went to the hospital last week and came back today, and he threw a HUGE fit because he’s missing 2 newspapers. Like, he made the girl working cry, and she doesn’t fucking cry. He’s blown up at me before because there was no jelly on his table for breakfast and that’s not even my fucking job, but when I told him that we were out of it, he yelled at me more about “You can’t fucking order enough food for 40 fucking people? What kind of a place is this?” THEN LEAVE. IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN MISERABLE, LEAVE. Or he’ll come out and look out the front windows at night, which, whatever. Doesn’t bother me much. Except every other night he’ll ask if the storage room is open and I’ll say no, but I can open it for him, and he says no and just goes back to his room. Like??? Why’d you ask???

My favorite guy has always reminded me of No Face because he’s tall and doesn’t really know what’s going on, but these last few weeks, he’s just. I can’t even explain it. It’s like he’s empty. His dementia has gotten so bad. He’s stopped flushing his toilet, we think he’s peeing on his laundry, his speech is almost imperceptible he’s so quiet, he’s lost weight which is scary because he was already so skinny.

We have another dementia dude who had hip surgery a little over a month ago, and his aids are BITCHES. We HATE them. We’ve been fighting with them for weeks. They went fucking 3 weeks without giving him a bath or telling us he wasn’t getting a bath, so his skin is terrible. He’s itchy all the time, so they’re saying that it’s his pain medicine which is causing it, which isn’t true. They’re trying to keep him doped up so they don’t have to deal with him, but since we told our boss about it and he talked to theirs, they all of a sudden don’t want us giving him it anymore. All of a sudden, the pain meds make him itch and “are what caused his dementia” and make him dizzy. But none of that is true. He has other people who come in to help him, plus we see him and we’ve known him for months, and we all see that it’s bullshit. But they’re still here. And they have the gall to tell us how to do our jobs. They’re not nurses, they’re not RAs, they’re just random ass people their boss found. One is a high school dropout (not that there’s anything wrong with that, but considering that she’s talking about medical things, it’s relevant,) and the other thinks she knows what she’s talking about because she drove the bus for our neighboring facility. From which she got fired. For being a dick to her passengers. They’re like, “Well he needs his medicine at 6, not 8.” No, he doesn’t. This is when he’s had it for months. “You need to do this.” McFuckinScuse me? Ohohoh, and the kicker? They’ve been saying he’s “end life” since his surgery. Even though he’s not in pain, even though he’s much, much clearer because he got new anti-psychotic medication, even though he’s so much better now than he ever has been. Like. I’ve never been in a fight. but I’m gonna throw hands.

And we have people bitching about every little thing. Their breakfast arrives cold. Well, you have a microwave, we can’t keep it all hot because we deliver it by floor, not by room. They weren’t abiding the 6-foot-apart rule so we had to take out the furniture in the living room and outside, so they’re acting like children and saying shit like, “Well we’re jut going to sit in our walkers anyway.” Which we can’t do anything to stop them but like. Whatever. We have to spray down our mail and newspapers with our sanitizing gun before we can deliver it, so Every. Single. Morning. we get a phone call from one resident in particular who just angrily demands, “WHERE’S MY PAPER” and then hangs up. EVERY GODDAMN MORNING. LIKE DUDE YOUR FUCKING PAPER WILL BE THERE CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

Do you know how many fucking times we’ve been asked, “Well when is all this gonna end?” At least 5x a day, depending on the shift. I’ve even been asked on the midnight shift a couple of times. We don’t know when it’s going to end. We don’t control when it’s going to end. If you have a complaint, take it to our boss because we’re busy doing 3x the workload for the same fucking pay. One woman comes down every morning at 7:23 to see if the dining room is open yet despite the fact that we’ve told her it won’t be for several more weeks at least, and another lady is literally standing in the hallway for her breakfast before we’ve even started fucking making it.

And it’s just. It’s all day. All day there’s someone bitching about something insignificant, and it’s ridiculous. We have residents forgetting their children’s names, residents struggling to thrive, residents literally on the verge of dying, but everybody else is wasting our time with their petty and childish complaints about things which are meant to protect them, about things that we don’t have the power to change.

I just want to scream. I want to scream and cry and sleep for a solid week. And what makes it worse, what just turns this from a bad situation into a terrible goddamn nightmare is the fact that this is going to have to go on even longer because our government is so caught up in the idea of working us to death to profit itself that we’re opening everything up too fast and all this is going to start all over again.

The RAs are stir crazy, but at least we get to leave. We get to go outside, go home, maybe go hit a drive through or a gas station. When I say people have been locked in their rooms for 10 weeks, I mean people haven’t fucking stepped out into the hallway for 10 weeks. Some have. Some have been to see their neighbors, some have gone out, like they’re allowed (but if they go out, they’re under 14 day quarantine meaning they can’t leave their rooms unless they’re leaving again,) but I don’t think a good 1/3 of these people have even been outside to enjoy the sun. In 10 weeks. 70+ days. So I understand the crabbiness. I do. I don’t appreciate it, especially not directed at us, but I understand it. I’m just. So tired. And there’s so much left to muddle through still.

If I believed in a god, I’d say “God help us when we have to announce our extended lockdown,” but it’s a lawless universe without a master, so there’s no hope. We’re just fucked. We’re all so, so tired.

Please. Just please. Stay home.

#shut up becca #becca's work #becca rants #becca's work rants

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snowfall-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

Beware the Frozen Heart Ch. 14- The Reunion

Previous Chapter

Ao3 Link

FFN link

Eryn and Torvond have a little catching up session

Minor rape tw for this one folks, proceed with caution.

Eryn had to admit, the cell he was thrown into wasn’t the worst he’d been in. It wasn’t the largest nor was it the most well lit, but he had been locked away in literal caves before. They were even kind enough to give him a bed, unlike many other dungeons he’d been in. The cell was underneath the local barracks in the heart of town, a usual setup for small villages so that it’s harder for criminals to escape. Eryn laid back on the bed cot in the corner of the cell, placing his hands behind his head. Lineaus had to do… something or other, Eryn was too busy cursing out the ice harvester in his head to pay attention. When could that oaf have taken the dagger? He was better than that! Eryn bounced his foot angrily as he imagined burying his knife into the ice man’s throat for making him look like a dumbass. His mind then shifted to how Anna would react, seeing her fiance dead in a pool of his own blood. I’d be gone before anything could be done about it, so why not just beat the shit out of him and split? He thought, concentrating on the wooden floor above him. God, Eryn. When did you go soft… oh, right….

As he schemed about the future, he heard loud footsteps thudding down the staircase. Turning his head, he saw Lineaus arriving at the foot of the stairs, glaring at him with hands clasped behind his back. Eryn took special note of the various medals and ribbons that adorned the man’s jacket as they glistened in torchlight.

“As if I didn’t have enough problems already, you just had to show up…” Lineaus growled.

“Ah, Lineaus,” Eryn chuckled, “Got yourself a promotion, I see?”

“Shove it, Eryn! you have some gall to show up in Arendelle again. Especially after what you did.”

“Oh? You mean brought justice to a family where you and this godawful country refused to? Besides, I needed to come back. I’ve got important business here...”

“And what, pray tell, would that ‘important business’ be?”

Eryn let out a soft chuckle, “Well, I’ve found a glass slipper from the royal ball and I’ve been looking for the maiden who lost it…”

“Do I look like I have time for this foolishness, Eryn?” Eryn swung his feet to the side of the bed, “Ah, there’s the old ‘no nonsense’ Lenny I remember! It’s just like the old military days all over again!” “Don’t. Call. Me. That. You lost your right to call me that when you betrayed Arendelle.”

“Why do you care so much about this shithole, anyway? Not like this place did anything for you.”

“A soldier doesn’t expect anything in return for service to his country. Not that you’d understand,” Lineaus approached the cell bars. Eryn could see veins protruding from Lineaus’s neck.

“Oh, puh-lease, Lenny, we both know why you signed up in the first place.”

“Don’t you dare, Eryn…”

“You joined up to try and get close to the crown princess, to woo her with your devotion to this backwards country.”

Lineaus’s face turned bright red, “L-like you had a more noble reason to enlist!”

“It was like most wide eyed new recruits, I wanted to make a name for myself in this world; become famous, earn some glory, the usual things boys join up for.”

“Eryn, you and I both know there’s more to it than that.”

The assassin let out a gruff sigh, “Always perceptive, aren’t you, Lenny? Arendelle only cares about the high and mighty of society. Look at how they put Urlaf on a pedestal while ignoring the people he ruined.”

“Ugh, this again? Urlaf was a good ma-”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE DEFEND THAT RAPIST, YOU IGNORANT MORON!” Eryn jumped from the bed and marched over to the bars of the cell, meeting Lineaus’s face with his own.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here…”

“Do you now?” “You were jealous of Urlaf, so you made up an excuse to kill him-”

Eryn struggled not to strangle Lineaus through the bars. “Her name was Malia. She was only sixteen when Urlaf violated her. Her father and mother were threatened with charges of treason if they tried anything. I get that you idolized the bastard, but do you understand that doesn’t mean ‘suck his cock every waking second?’”

“Why would Urlaf try and cover up something like that? Especially when King Agnarr had two daughters of his own, surely he’d interve-” “You say that as if Agnarr would’ve given a damn,” Eryn began pacing the small room, “He locked the two of them up in the castle, didn’t he? Even then, the bastard was too busy throwing men to the north trying to get through some fog to care about anyone else, especially his own people.”

“This is about your father, isn’t it?”

“Leave him out of this!”

“I remember seeing that report. An entire platoon, lost in an avalanche due north of here. Eryn, I-”

“Don’t even act like you understand. When he died, no one came to inform us, my mother and I had to find that out from an ice harvester who was passing through. But, no, I understand completely. I mean, two months later, when my mother was taken by illness, Arendelle didn’t do anything to help, either. Why try and help an eight year old with nowhere to go to when there’s a group of FUCKING TREE PEOPLE to save?!” Eryn kicked the stone wall with all his might, letting out a small whimper as he limped back to where Lineaus was standing.

“You can’t expect a government to oversee all of its subjects. I’m sorry that happened to you but-”

“This isn’t about me. What about Malia? A sixteen year old girl who was violated by the highest ranking general in Arendelle, and she never saw justice. You had a sister, Lineaus, surely you would understand.”

Lineaus paused for a moment, almost as if he was contemplating Eryn’s words. “How do you know Urlaf did any of this? This is a serious thing to accuse him of…”

“I saw it. The night I left, I was on night patrol when I saw him drag her to her tent. I saw the blood on her forehead where he struck her. I took his knife while he had his way with her, and slit his throat with it. After that night, I made it my mission to make Arendelle remember my name, no matter what.” Eryn’s memory fell onto that horrid night, how the knife began talking as the general’s blood ran through the runes etched into the blade. He remembered how it slipped into his mind, projecting a strange voice into his mind.

You wish to be remembered, boy? To etch your name and likeness into the hearts and minds of all throughout the world?

More than anything.

And you would be willing to do anything?

Yes...

Submit to me, then, and I will give you the power to ensure no one will ever forget you…

Eryn decided to omit this information, knowing it would surely land him a permanent stay in an asylum. Lineaus processed this information, a worried look plastered on his face.

“Eryn… I want to believe you, I really do, but there isn’t really any kind of viable proof that-”

“Malia moved to Karnisvarne. She still lives there today, next to the Abhramsons. You remember Rolond, right?”

“Heh, how could I forget Rolond? Old man has a heart of gold and a will of steel.”

“I’m sure she’d be more open about it now, especially with Elsa in charge.”

“Ye- wait! How do you know Elsa well enough to call her by her first name?”

Fuck, Eryn thought as his whole body went rigid, “Well, I, uh… it’s a bit of a long story honestly…”

Lineaus’s eyes went wide, “Eryn, you’re not back in Arendelle for the reason why I think you're back, are you?”

“Depends on what you're thinking…”

“Are you here to kill Elsa?”

“What makes you think that?” “You want to make sure that Arendelle never forgot who you were. What else would do that than killing the queen herself? So I’ll ask again, are. You. Here. To. kill. Elsa?”

Eryn felt his heart sink to his stomach. He contemplated his answer for a moment before saying, “That… was the idea at first…”

“‘At first?!’ What in the hell do you mean ‘at first?!’” Eryn could see the veins in Lineaus’s neck bulge out again as his eyes narrowed in on him.

“Keep your pants on, I was going to call it off before you decided to butt in. Some old bag in Karnisvarne paid a king’s ransom in Weselton gold for her head on a pike.”

“What was a man with Weselton gold doing in Arendelle of all places?”

“Makes sense, going to Søderlund, the place that hates Arendelle’s guts so much the whole province would sing of her death for generations. You’re the only one who really loves this place from there.”

“So what changed? Why were you going to call it off?”

“...Because she turned out a lot different than I had anticipated. Here I was thinking there was another Runeard or Agnarr on the throne, but Elsa… Elsa’s completely different. She’s kind, caring, and her heart’s full of love for her people. So full in fact, that she doesn’t have enough room to love herself. She feels like she needs to put the weight of the world on her shoulders, that she needs to prove herself to the world that she’s worthy. It’s… heartbreaking, in a word. I didn’t think she deserved to die…”

Lineaus let out a deep sigh, “You should’ve seen her when Agnarr and Iduna were still around. You remember the induction posts, right?”

“Y’mean where we had to serve a whole year as castle guards before being deployed anywhere else? I’ve noticed they’ve added onto the whole place…”

“Heh, well I managed to see Elsa a fair bit during my time,” Lineaus let out a long sigh, “Poor thing always walked around cradling herself, never allowing anyone else to touch her. She always looked like she was on the brink of tears.”

“Must’ve been even worse when the king and queen died.”

“You’re not the one who had to break the news to them. Both Anna and Elsa. They were devastated. Elsa didn’t leave her room for months, not even to attend their funeral. It reminded me of Freya when our father died.”

Eryn felt guilt resonate through his body. He remembered hearing Lineaus talk about his sister before she took her own life, how she was bubbly and full of life, and how her death inspired him to join the military. Imagining Elsa in that same position felt like a kick in the chest.

“So you’d do anything in your power to protect her?”

“Absolutely, even if it meant I had to scale Yggdrasil itself.”

“Then listen to me, she’s currently here in Fjellby, at the Sleepy Troll Inn, top room on the left. Make sure she’s safe and I’ll hand you the man who hired me.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“LINEAUS!”

The two men averted their gazes to the staircase. Eryn felt his blood run cold. Elsa was standing there in her commoner clothes, her hands placed on her hips and looking quite annoyed.

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but visiting hours are-” Elsa undid the bonnet she was wearing to reveal her long platinum blond braid. Lineaus went pale as his eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Y-Your Majesty!”

“Lineaus, why is my bodyguard incarcerated?!”

“Bodyguard?!”

Eryn scratched his head, “Yyyeah, probably should’ve told you that…”

Lineaus shot Eryn a dirty look before returning to the queen, “Elsa I had no idea this was your… personal guard.”

“Having some old bag shoot at you will do that-”

“Derrik, I don’t want to hear it. Lineaus, release him immediately.”

“Derrik? Since when have you gone by that, Eryn?”

“What?!” Elsa began tapping her foot on the floor.

Eryn slapped his hand up against his face as he felt the room get colder. Think of something, you idiot! He thought.

“Um… Derrik is my middle name! I use it whenever I need to, uh, avoid Weselton following me…”

Lineaus gave Eryn a death glare as he fumbled with the keys to the cell. With a loud clanking noise, the cell door swung open as Eryn casually walked out.

“Elsa, if I may-” Lineaus began.

“You have a lot to explain, Lineaus!” Elsa snapped, “I sent you up here to process the bandit situation, and you never reported back! Not only that, you threw my personal bodyguard in prison for no reason! Care to explain what Derrik did?”

“Because ‘Derrik’ is… wait, you haven’t been receiving my letters?”

It was Elsa’s turn to look shocked, “Letters? As in more than one? How many have you been sending?”

“I’ve been writing one every day for the past month.”

“The past month? I haven’t gotten a single letter! So you’ve taken care of the bandit situation, then?” “That’s just it, there aren’t any bandits around here, at least from what I’ve seen. I’ve tried talking to Governor Haadrikson about it, but he simply just waves my recommendations of withdrawal off with a ‘they’re out there, I just know it!’”

Elsa pursed her lips, deep in thought. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow, Lineaus,” she said, “For now, just make sure no one knows I’m here, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lineaus saluted the queen as she returned her bonnet to her head, concealing her hair. Eryn gave Lineaus a small nod before turning to Elsa, who gave him a ferocious glare that could scare wolves. He honestly never seen her this mad since… well, since two days ago. God, she looks hot when- DAMMIT! NOT NOW! He thought as she walked up the stairs. Eryn followed suit, unsure of what the queen had in store for him.

XXXXXX

“I cannot believe you got yourself arrested, Derrik!” Elsa scolded in a hushed tone, “I thought the idea was that we needed to be hidden around here.” The two of them were back in The Sleepy Troll Inn, next to the fireplace. Eryn sat in a velvet chair, watching the flames in the hearth dance around the charred logs as he contemplated his answer.

“It’s not like I was expecting to run into Lineaus,” Eryn retorted, “Man’s always been high strung ever since we met.”

“That’s another thing, why didn’t you tell me you knew Lineaus? I’m sure I could’ve arranged something more friendly between you tw-” “The last time Lineaus and I met was less than friendly. Asshole gave me a black eye, I broke several of his ribs. Even told me that if I ever came back, he’d be the one to string me up on the gallows.” Looking over to Elsa, Eryn was confused on whether or not she was shocked at him calling Lineaus an asshole or finding out what had happened between Eryn and Lineaus.

“Lineaus wouldn’t do tha-”

”Men can do awful things when people don’t care enough!” he snapped. He watched as Elsa’s eyes went wide. “S-sorry.”

“What drove you two apart?” Elsa took a seat in the chair right next to him, leaning against the armrest. Eryn let out a small sigh.

“I witnessed a man Lineaus looked up to, who he aspired to be one day, commit a horrid atrocity. I tried to explain it to him, but he wouldn’t believe me. I… had to take matters into my own hands. Ended up getting called a traitor and had to run for my life.”

“I-I can’t believe Lineaus would do something like that. He’s never been like that around us before.”

“My guess is that he didn’t want the image of his role model tainted. He was a different man back then, with big aspirations. I don’t blame him for reacting the way he did, but it pained me that he still holds some kind of grudge.”

Elsa placed her hand on his arm, “Derrik, I’m sorry that happened. When this is all over, I’ll look into this myself and make sure Lineaus doesn’t bother y-”

“I appreciate that, your majesty, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Of course it is. You’ve done so much for us already, keeping me and Anna safe, apprehending the man who poisoned me, it only makes sense that I do something to help you.”

Gulit settled in the bottom of Eryn’s heart like sediment along the bottom of a river. “I-I think I’ll turn in for the night. Got a big day ahead of us,” he said rising up from his seat

“Derrik, are you sure?” Elsa asked as she followed suit.

“Positive, g’night,” Eryn hastily walked up the stairs and slinked back into his room. He softly closed the door behind him and slumped against it. Here she was, offering to help him and for what? He had tried to kill her twice, lied to her face multiple times, and even attacked her brother in law. He just needed to get away from this hellhole once and for all once this situation with the governor had been resolved.

Strangely enough, Eryn’s thoughts lingered back on his father. What would he think, seeing Eryn as nothing more than a shifty murderer? How would he react seeing his son disgrace his name, going around lying and ruthlessly killing people? Eryn buried his head in his hands as he felt tears form in the corners of his eyes for the first time in years.

One way or another, he needed to leave Arendelle behind forever, for his and Elsa’s sake.

XXXXXX

The moon shined high over the Arenfjord, its rays dancing on the water in spectacular fashion. The people of Arendelle were fast asleep, save for a small tavern in the heart of the town called The Summer Flurry, named in honor of the queen’s magic. Inside, a small group of men were gathered around a fairly large table, each cloaked to hide their faces. Everyone huddled together and began talking in hushed tones.

“It’s been over a month! What has he been doing?!” “Is he dead? He has to be!”

“She’s just one woman! How can some ditzy broad best Eryn?”

The man in the middle slammed his fist onto the table, silencing the others almost immediately.

“Look, it’s obvious that Eryn has failed,” the mysterious man said in a soft hushed tone, his voice nasally and high pitched, “It’s onto us now to finish the job.”

“How?” one of the others whispered, this time a rough and coarse voice, “Eryn knew the most out of all of us, and if he’s out of the picture-”

The man in the middle pulled his cloak back to reveal a middle aged man with blond hair and an eyepatch covering his left eye. The light of the lantern in the center of the table glistened in his working sapphire eye. “Not a problem,” he said, “We have enough information to work with. There’s a major event in the North Wing tomorrow around 6:30. We just throw this in the room,” he pulled out a small round metal ball with a small cotton string sticking out of the top, “and BOOM! The queen is blown to bits.”

“And Eryn?”

“Fuck him, he had his chance! We’ll just take the gold for ourselves and leave this hellhole once and for all!” Everyone at the table murmured in agreement. The time for waiting has passed, and the time for action is now.

Tomorrow night, this charade ends, and the Snow Queen will be dead...

#frozen fanfiction #disney frozen #OC #queen elsa #princess anna #olaf #kristoff #duke of weselton #hans #fanfiction #assassination #Eryn Odrikson #blood tw #gore tw #mature #rape tw

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thinkyoureholy · 5 years

Text

A Woman Scorned [11]

[Warning! There is smut in this chapter!!!!]

Pairing : Kim Jongin / Reader

Genre : Angst, Mature Language, Fluff, Smut

Words : 4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Epilogue.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I walked briskly to my car, the tears of sadness that had been falling from my eyes had turned into tears of anger. As soon as I got in my car I let out a scream of frustration, a sob getting stuck in my throat as I hit the steering wheel. How dare he...how fucking dare he have the audacity to say that to me? Me? A whore, a slut? What gave him the fucking right? I was no longer his to claim, I was no longer bound by the restraints of our relationship that had gone to shit. Our relationship was a thing of the past so he had no right to barge in there and- I cut my thoughts off as I let out another scream of pure anger, angrily turning on the car and pulling out of the parking lot. My hands had a death grip on the steering wheel, my fingers turning white at the tight grip I had on the wheel.

Once home I got out of my car, slamming the car door and consequently the front door to the house as well. My pent up anger was starting to eat me up and I knew if I didn’t do something about it things were going to get ugly and they were going to get ugly fast. I wandered over to the kitchen, throwing my bag onto the couch. Just as I reached over to grab a cup from the cupboards my phone started ringing. I reached into my pocket, answering it without even checking who was calling.

“Is this your fucked up way on getting revenge!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear, wincing at the sound of her voice coming through the speaker. I looked at the number to see it didn't have caller ID but there was no way I'd ever mistake her voice with someone else's. I sighed heavily, leaning back against the counter as I brought the phone back up to my ear.

“What the hell are you even talking about?” I asked simply to entertain her, not actually caring about anything she had to say.

“Your fucking dog beat the hell out of my Jongin!” Bora yelled, “Y'know I always thought you'd never use violence but I guess I was wrong.”

“Bora, what the fuck-”

“Junmyeon! Your fucking boy toy or whatever he is to you I don't really care!” She yelled, clearly frustrated over how clueless I was.

As she was yelling I heard the front door open, Junmyeon walking in and as soon as I saw him I realized why she was so worked up.

“You know I can press charges against that asshole right? I don't give a fuck if he's a lawyer or not! He can't just go around-”

“Oh my God just shut up! Your voice is single handedly the worst fucking thing I've ever heard, fuck, just shut up for once in your miserable life!” I yelled, my annoyance rising the longer I heard her talk.

Before she could get another word out I hung up on her. I looked down at the phone in my hand for a few seconds before setting it down and made my way over to Junmyeon who had plopped down on the couch. I noticed the bruise forming on his jaw and his split lip first, taking in how his right hand was covered with blood, whether it was his or not I couldn't tell. Seeing him like this I could only imagine how he left Jongin. I set my jaw, crossing my arms over my chest as I kicked at his leg, getting him to look at me.

“Is it true you got into a fight with Jongin?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Junmyeon scoffed, dabbing the cut on his lip with a napkin that was on the coffee table, “I'm so tired of hearing his fucking name.”

“Answer me.”

Junmyeon balled the napkin up in his hand before roughly throwing it back onto the table, “I did and what about it?”

“Dammit Junmyeon why?”

“You know damn well why.”

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose, “No I don't Myeon. Why the hell would you get into it with him? He's not worth it.”

“You know what he's not...but you are.” He said, rising from his seat and staring right into my eyes, “I'm done. I'm so fucking done with all of this. I hate how he still gets to you. I hate how much his words and actions still affect you. I'm no fucking idiot I know everything so don't even try and deny it.”

I poked my tongue against the inside of my cheek, hating how right he was. I was annoyed that he let Jongin get inside his head but I was more annoyed at the fact he was throwing all of this in my face, like I already didn't know that. Doesn't he think that I hate that about myself too? I hate it so much that I want to bring the son of a bitch that makes me like this down but I won't have anyone doing it for me.

“I did this for you. I beat his pretty little face in because of the crap he said to you back there but you have the gall to ask why? He made you cry tears he doesn't even deserve yet you're still here asking me why?”

“No. You did this for you,” I said in a low voice, seeing a frown beginning to form on his face, “If it truly was for me you would've let what he said go over your head and let me handle-”

“Handle what?! You marched out of that office with tears streaming down your face. Tell me, exactly how you were going to handle it?! Huh?! I'm all ears so fucking tell me!” He yelled, cutting me office, his anger from before returning, “I wasn't about to let him get away with the shit he said.”

“Fucking hell Junmyeon this isn't your fight!” I shouted, my patience wearing thin, “I won't have you fighting my battles for me!”

“No it’s not my fight but you made it my fight the moment you asked me to become the company's financial advisor! Why the hell do you think I dropped everything to go there, to be there for you, huh? Ask yourself why I beat the shit out of that bastard for saying those things to you.”

He exhaled deeply, all the energy seeming to leave him as he took a few steps away from me. His words had rendered me speechless, my mind going blank. At seeing that he wasn't going to get a response he let out a scoff, the corners of his lips curling upwards for a few seconds before he bit his bottom lip quite harshly. He said nothing else as he turned on his heel and walked out of the living room. It felt like my feet were glued to the floor, hearing his footsteps as he left. I jumped slightly at hearing the front door slam shut, the sound echoing through the house. I was stuck in this stupor for a few seconds until my anger hit me once again. Today just wasn’t my day. First Jongin opened his damn mouth and drew tears from me he certainly didn’t deserve and now Junmyeon was telling me to ask myself a question I don’t know the answer to. I set my jaw as I thought how infuriating everyone was being today.

Turning on my heel I made my way over to the counter, grabbing the bottle of tequila Minseok had there and opening it. I was planning on downing it in its entirely, thinking I’d replace it later for him. I took a long swig from the bottle, ignoring the burning in my throat as it went down. I grimaced as I plopped down onto the couch, kicking the coffee table back to try and get rid of the last remaining bits of anger that was still left in my system. I tried to clear my mind, refusing to think about what had happened in the day as I drank away. I was almost down with the bottle when I heard the front door open. I threw my head back, a lazy smile spreading across my face as I called out to Minseok. I got no response and now that I had time to think about it I remembered Minseok texting me earlier this morning that he’d be down with his parents for the weekend. Before I could get alarmed by the idea of it being an intruder I saw Junmyeon walking into my line of sight. I said nothing but raised the bottle in my hand towards him but he simply snatched it out of my hand. I didn’t have the energy to yell at him as I watched him look down at the nearly empty bottle.

“I was gone maybe ten minutes and you’ve already downed this entire bottle of tequila?” He asked, clearly irritated.

I let out a soft chuckle, following his figure as he sat down on the coffee table in front of me, “That is false...it still has about half a cup left in it.”

He sighed heavily, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his thighs, “You’re drunk,” He said after silently observing me for a few seconds.

“I am indeed my dear Junmyeon,” I said with a grin, my words slightly slurred.

He shook his head, reaching over to grab my hand to get me to stand up, probably wanting to lead me to my room. I slapped his hand away from me, startling him. He stared at me with a frown on his face, my eyes not meeting his. I looked down at my fingers, idly messing with them as I ground my teeth together.

“Why’d you come back? You obviously had nothing more to say…” I trailed off in a low voice before adding under my breath, “Asking me such a stupid question…”

I scoffed to myself, keeping my eyes from looking at him as I entertained myself to staring a the tv on the far wall. I heard nothing from him for a few seconds. If I hadn’t known better I would’ve thought that he up and left but I could hear is breathing perfectly, even in my drunken state I was perfectly aware of everything that was going on around me.

“No...but I didn’t want to go home knowing you were angry...at me no less.” He said after a moment of silence, his tone soft.

“Then you shouldn’t have picked that damn fight with Jongin.”

Soon after that sentence left my mouth I heard a scoff leave his, a dry and humorless laugh following, “Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about him? After everything he’s said and done?”

“I’m not but that wasn’t your fight to pick.”

“And what would you have had me do, huh? Tell me what I should’ve done after hearing the shit he said to you in your office. You know I had half a mind to actually kill that bastard-”

“Fucking hell Junmyeon you should’ve just walked away like I did!” I yelled, cutting him off.

At my outburst it seemed like the feelings he was holding back reared their ugly heads as he stood up abruptly, kicking at the coffee table and knocking it over on its side, beginning to pace in front of me, “In tears like you did?! Is that what you wanted?! For me to walk out of that room with my head down and tail between my legs?! Fuck. That. I gave that stuck up little prick the beating he deserved and I did it for you!”

“I never asked you to-”

“You didn’t have to! I would’ve beat the hell out of any son of a bitch that even thought to speak to you the way he did.” He said, red in the face as he stared down at me on the couch.

I couldn’t help but hate the feeling of being looked down on, figuratively and literally so I stood up so I was eye level with him. I opened my mouth but before I could get a word out I felt his hands on the side of my face before feeling his lips on mine. The fight that I had in me vanished the moment I felt his lips captured my own in a hungry kiss. I reached a hand up to grab onto his wrist tightly, using my other hand to pull him in closer by his shirt. Instead of just stepping closer to me he had me take one back, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the couch. He brought one of his hands down to wrap around my waist, the other to stop himself from completely letting his entire weight fall on top of me as we fell back onto the couch. His lips didn’t leave mine for a second as his hands started to roam my body. With his knee in between my legs I couldn’t help but grind onto his leg. He moaned softly into my mouth, his hands pinning my hips to the couch as he finally pulled away from the kiss. He hovered over me, his eyes staring into mine intently, as if looking for something in them.

“What are you doing?” I asked, panting slightly.

He smiled softly, “Looking to see if this is something we both want and not just to let out the pent up anger we have in our systems. I also wanted to see if you had sobered up enough to want this…”

I leaned up, pulling him down the rest of the way by wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He kissed me back just as eagerly, his fingers playing with the hem of my shirt, “Just finish what you started in my office.”

He grinned at that, his fingers already beginning to hike up my skirt, “Yes ma’am.”

And with that he reconnected his lips with mine but only for a few seconds before he started peppering kisses onto the side of my jaw, his lips finding the soft spot on my neck rather quickly. I was so engrossed in the feeling of his lips I wasn’t aware of the way his fingers had brushed against my thighs and then again later but much higher up until I felt his fingers press lightly on my clit over my underwear. I moaned at the feeling, my fingers digging into his clothed back. I felt him smirk against my skin, his lips not letting up on their assault on my neck as he moved my underwear to the side, his fingers running up and down my folds. I whined as I ground my hips against his fingers, wanting him to stop his teasing. Just as I was going to speak my thoughts aloud he pushed one of his fingers into my entrance. I arched my back at the feeling, a loud moan leaving my lips at having him push in a second fingers no more than a few seconds after the first one. He kept still but feeling his fingers inside of me was driving me crazy. I brought my hands up to his hair, pulling him up so his face was right above mine.

“Move.”

He let a smirk grace his features, leaning down to capture my lips with his when I felt him pull his fingers out slowly, before pushing back in. He kept this up for a few seconds, my juices covering his fingers and probably his whole hand by now. I could tell just how wet I was by the sound, his fingers finally picking up speed. I arched my back into him, feeling his bulge pressed up against my thigh. Without much thought I brought my hand down to cup him gently, a groan leaving his lips. He bit down on my lips, his fingers moving fast when his thumb joined them, drawing circles onto my clit. I gasped against his lips, reaching down to grab his arm with both my hands as I pulled away from the kiss.

“I’m--I’m gonna cum, fuck.” I moaned out, throwing my head back at the knot that had been tightening in my stomach just about ready to snap.

I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge until I finally let myself go. My orgasm hit me hard, my legs shaking as he kept moving his fingers in and out of me. It took awhile for my orgasm to subside and when it did he finally pulled his fingers out of me, bringing them up to his lips and sucking my juices off them as he stared directly into my eyes. I let out a whine at seeing that, pushing him back and off of me. He seemed confused for a second but soon caught on when I began taking off my clothes in front of him. He didn’t waste another second in stripping himself of his own clothes. Once my bras was off and I saw him slip on a condom I sat on his lap, my lips immediately attacking his neck. He groan low in his throat at having me suck on the sensitive skin, his hands gripping the flesh of my thighs tightly when he felt my tongue soothe the skin after sucking on it so harshly. Without much thought I reached down in between us, lifting my hips from his for a second, aligning his member with my entrance. I sunk down on him with a moan, a moan of his own leaving his lips. I didn’t even allow myself time to adjust to him before I started moving. I let out a shaking breath at the feeling of him inside me. I had been so long since I had been with anyone and this felt like pure ecstasy.

“Holy shit…” Junmyeon let out in a shaky breath, his fingers digging into my thighs harder than before.

I let a smile spread across my face for a second before burying my face into his neck when I felt him hook his arms underneath my thighs and began thrust up into me. My nails dug into his shoulders, clawing across his back as I tried to muffle my moans as they got increasingly louder but to no avail. I don’t know for how long we were at it but I knew it was for quite some time, if my fatigue had anything to say about it.

I walked down the hallway of the building, opting out of wearing heels due to the activities I had participated in over the last few days. Junmyeon...had a hell of a lot of stamina and endurance but I wasn’t really complaining. Though going for as many rounds as we did I was left...a little sore. So heels were definitely out of the question this morning. Junmyeon unfortunately wasn’t able to come to work with me this morning since the director of his firm had called him early in the morning, saying he had some urgent business with him. As I walked to my office I could see Bora sitting at her desk, a knowing look in her eyes. I ignored the look entirely, going into my office and sitting down in my chair.

I hadn’t even been sitting for longer than a minute when Jongin entered the room. I kept an emotionless face as I watched him march over to me, noting the bruises on his jaw and over his eye barely beginning to heal. I only showed confusion when he slammed an envelope onto my desk. I looked down at it with furrowed brows, surprised to see that it was his letter of resignation.

“You’re quitting?”

“I’ve already cleared my office, all I needed was to give this to you. It’s what you wanted right? Now you can do whatever the hell you want with this damned company.” He snapped, his face clear with anger.

I set my jaw at the look in his eyes, remembering what he had said to me the Friday prior, “So instead of a fucking apology you chose to run away from me? Pathetic.”

“I was going to apologize, I wanted to fucking apologize but with what I heard that same night I decided to swallow my damn apology.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard you, the both of you.” He said, still being vague about everything.

When he saw that I wasn’t understanding anything he was saying he explained, “I looked through our documents, looking for your address so I could apologize to you. When I found your address I went there immediately but when I got there-” He cut himself off, his teeth grinding against each other as he tried to reel in his rage, “I heard everything, his moans...your moans. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you and Junmyeon were fucking.”

I couldn’t help but laugh once he was done, throwing my head back as I was thrown into hysterics. It took a minute for me to finally calm down and when I did I could see how appalled he was to have me laughing at him after what he had just revealed to me.

“And that’s why you’re quitting? Just how much more pathetic can you get seriously?” I asked through a grin before I let my eyes scan his figure, a scoff falling from my mouth, “And to think...I once loved a man like you...it’s laughable really.”

“You’ve really turned into a stone cold bitch haven’t you?”

I grinned at his words, resting my elbows on my desk as I leaned forward, his letter of resignation in my hands, “Well as much as I’d love to see you out of a job…” I trailed off before tearing the envelope and the letter inside to pieces, “I can’t allow you to leave...at least not until I say so,” I said, throwing the torn pieces to his feet.

He had what I could only assume was a disgusted look on his face, losing his footing as he stumbled back, “Isn’t this what you fucking wanted? You wanted me gone right? You wanted my money, everything I ever had. So take it, I have no need for it anymore.”

I said nothing as I watched him pull out his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out the bills his was carrying in cash before throwing them at me. They simply fell to the floor in front of him as I stared at the money, uninterested.

“Take it, take it all. I’m done playing your fucked up game. I’m done being pushed around by you with the hope that you’d maybe, someday forgive me-”

“Don’t hold your breath, that’ll never happen.”

He let out a dry laugh, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes, “Oh, I know. I know that more than ever now so just take it all. My money, this cursed company, all of it...but I’m no longer gonna be around to fucking see it.”

The was the last he said before turning on his heel and leaving my office, slamming the door shut before him. Once he was gone I sat back in my chair, frowning at what I had just witnessed. The only thought that came to mind was...how was I going to go through with what I had planned for him if he was no longer around? The longer I thought about it the faster the wheels in my head turned. I grinned at the new plan I had formulated, a giddy look crossing my features.

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krennthief · 5 years

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Boys in Brass

Hey remember that time (today) when I wrote an angsty Riker/Worf AU fic where they were teens in their high school orchestra??

Boys in Brass

Worf, son of Mogh, put down his trumpet in disgust. William “Call-Me-Will” Riker sat on the stool opposite him and tisked, concerned for the fate of Enterprise High’s orchestra at the regional tournament this Saturday. The two teens were onstage, alone in the school’s shockingly lavish auditorium, Will having declared that he would “dedicate the rest of the week trying to help the new Klingon kid with the material.”

Worf sighed. It was already Thursday.

“Look,” Will said, a fuzzy warmth in his voice as he looked directly into Worf’s eyes, “We need you. And you know what? You can do this. We can do this. Now, let’s take it from the top, okay, Worf?”

* * * * * * * * *

Will, the orchestra’s nearly virtuosic and sole trombonist (and consequently, somewhat of a teacher’s pet), had approached Mr. Picard, the orchestra’s director, earlier that afternoon and argued that if Worf wasn’t ready, they should just sit him out.

“You know as well as I do, Mr. Riker, that our Miles is no Davis,” Picard grumbled. “O’Brien’s lungs are shallower than his ego, and that’s saying something. Worf, on the other hand…”

Mr. Picard grimaced and sighed, rubbing his hand along his bald head anxiously. “While the boy is not quite refined, you’ve heard the sheer power with which he plays, correct?”

Will’s eye twitched as he stared at Picard’s goldfish, which was the only hint of any personality in the celebrity of a band director’s surprisingly blank office. Will knew of Picard’s brilliance and artistry. The man had an inspiring streak of success, being a prodigy similar to himself in his youth. His admiration for Picard had never wavered, but Will was beginning to grow weary of his director’s cryptic wisdom. And it wouldn’t hurt to throw up a motivational poster of some kind.

“You’re right,” Will managed to say, “Worf does have the potential. With the strings having trouble, too, I know you can’t help him yourself. Why don’t you get Miles to do it? He’s the actual trumpeter.”

“Miles O’Brien,” Picard began, lowering his voice to a hush as if Miles were just outside the door, “would not be capable of appeasing Mr. Worf’s reluctant nature. I am very aware, Mr. Riker, that you are equally competent with the trumpet as you are with trombone. You are free to use a school trumpet if you so desire, and perhaps assigning you to help Worf can also…”

Picard raised his eyes to meet Will’s. He grinned a knowing grin and raised his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I know, I know, sir,” Will said, embarrassed. “Keep me out of trouble.”

“Very good, then, Will. I’m investing my complete confidence in you. Dismissed!”

Will nodded and began heading out of the office before he stopped himself and added, “If it takes me all week, I will get Worf to our level, sir.”

* * * * * * * * *

“It’s hopeless, Will,” Worf said. “This solo is too complicated. My old school played much simpler music without all of the annoying melodic nuance of this Jean Baptiste Arban that your director chose for us to play.”

Will made a strange face, as if something Worf said had been absurd.

“What? Why are you making that face?” Worf exclaimed, already irritated at himself and now ready to be irritated with Will.

“It’s just…” Will began. “You know, I’d like to know what kind of music you played at your old school. What, do you not like ‘The Carnival of Venice’?”

“That is not the issue,” Worf growled. “I’ll have you know that I very much indeed like this music. The problem is that I am used to the triumphant. The bombastic! The way that you hold your trumpet, how you somehow flutter your fingers so quickly and correctly…I cannot achieve that level of dexterity.”

“Worf, I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again,” Will said, “practice makes perfect. And besides, you’re getting better. That solo is a killer and it isn’t your fault that you’re not nailing such a high-level part.”

Sighing again, Worf raised his trumpet and turned his sheet music back to the beginning of his solo.

It was already 7:00 PM, and even Mr. Picard and the strings had left hours ago, having perfected their toughest parts.

In the middle of Worf’s umpteenth try, two heads began to bob up out of the orchestra pit. Worf, startled, nearly dropped his trumpet as Geordi and Data emerged, their school uniforms somewhat disheveled.

“How long were you two down there?” Riker called to the duo. “And weren’t you supposed to be practicing with the strings, Data? I swear I didn’t see either of you come in.”

“Oh, um,” Geordi began, “we—”

“We were merely going over Geordi’s flute part, Will,” Data interjected. “The transition was really stumping him. Oh, and the director let me go early because I was the only one who had mastered the parts. We must have gotten here before you two.”

“Y-yeah!” Geordi said, clearing his throat, “That’s all we were doing down there!”

Worf and Riker exchanged skeptical glances at each other, and then looked at Geordi.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” he said with a nervous quiver in his voice. “Anyway, Worf, you’re starting to really sound pretty good, right, Data?”

Data glanced between Will and Worf emotionlessly and merely nodded his head slowly, turning to look cluelessly at Geordi.

“Data! I’m sorry about him, guys. You can really be tactless, sometimes, you know that, Data? Come on, let’s get outta here.”

Muttering angrily, Geordi grabbed Data’s arm and the two gradually made their way out of the auditorium up an aisle while Worf and Will watched, captivated by their buffoonery.

“That was…something,” Worf finally said, still wondering what they were doing down there. “What’s their deal?”

Will raised his eyebrows and chuckled to himself. “You mean, you can’t tell, Worf? They’re painfully obvious about it, even during class. Of course, they want to keep it a secret, but you could see it in Geordi’s eyes.”

Still confused, Worf cocked his head to the side slightly. “How could you see anything in Geordi’s eyes? He’s always wearing his VISOR.”

“You know what I mean! Even with that thing on, Geordi’s easier to read than a Garfield strip,” Will said. “I mean, isn’t is obvious? They’re dating, Worf.”

Worf felt his face heat up. He was aware that he tended to be a little dense, but this still made him feel foolish.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Will said, a playful undertone in his voice. “You and me got a date with each other right here and now.” He patted his stool. “Just a couple of horny boys blowing one out onstage, am I right?”

Even though he was aware that Will was joking, Worf was embarrassed that Will had the gall to utter such an innuendo.

“I’m sorry,” Will laughed, “you’re right. That was a bad one.”

Worf smiled. He had to admit, Will’s charisma was infectious.

* * * * * * * * *

It was nearly 11:00 PM when Will finally walked Worf home. Worf lived a block further than Will, so it was the least he could do for Worf, who had been working so hard all week.

“I’m glad your folks aren’t the type who get angry if you stay out late,” Will said, a hint of jealousy coating his words.

“They urge for me to ‘have fun’ and ‘be a teen,’ and for as much as they dote on me, they respect my privacy,” Worf responded informatively. “I sense from your tone that you may not experience the same leniency, Will.”

“Well, you sensed correctly, Worf.”

Suddenly, Will let out a cold, dark laugh and said, “My dad’s a complete hardass. No matter what I do, in his eyes, I’m doing it wrong. I get into fights at school? He doesn’t ask me about my side of the matter. I join the school’s orchestra and become the best trombonist they’ve seen in years? He says I should have gone for athletics. Nothing pleases that bastard, and at this point, I don’t know what will.”

Worf didn’t respond for a few moments, the sound of their footsteps against the pavement echoing among the houses of their neighborhood. Will hoped that Worf wouldn’t see his eyes beginning to water as they neared the next streetlight.

“I...I’m sorry to hear that, Will,” Worf said gently. “If it’s any consolation, I am certain that my parents wouldn’t mind you staying over. Especially if you do not feel comfortable at h--”

“Worf, please,” Will breathed, “I appreciate the sentiment. But you don’t have to--”

“I insist,” Worf said, a sudden sturdiness in his tone. “If it weren’t for my technical incompetencies with the trumpet, you would more than likely have gotten home at a reasonable hour.”

Under his breath, Will mumbled, “If only that were the case,” and sighed.

The two had finally approached Worf’s house. It was larger than Will’s, and much nicer. Thinking about it, Will was dreading the idea of going home and having to face his dad’s wrath. Worf’s offer was starting to sound more and more appealing.

“Thank you for walking with me, Will,” Worf said. “Now, are you sure that you don’t want to--”

“Worf! You’re back so late!” the friendly voice of a woman exclaimed from behind the screen of Worf’s front door. It swung open to reveal a small, portly woman, followed shortly by a man not much taller than she.

“I apologize, Mother. As the tournament draws nearer, I find it more and more imperative that I am able to get my parts learned effectively.”

“Oh, Worf, you have no need to worry!” Worf’s father said, beaming with pride. “Dedication is the key to success! I mean, look at this boy right here!” He gestured toward Will and graciously added, “A truly dedicated compatriot to our son here, eh, Helena?”

Worf’s mother nodded and smiled at Will. “Thank you so much for looking after our son. He tells us how skilled you are in the orchestra. We cannot wait to come and support you this Saturday!”

“Mother! You are embarrassing me,” Worf said.

Worf’s parents laughed at this, clearly enjoying Worf’s embarrassment.

Smiling sheepishly, Will backed away from the family reunion. “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Worf.”

The family turned to face Will and bid him a fond farewell.

“Thank you again, Will,” Worf called as Will started to leave. “And if you change your mind, let me know!”

Will waved politely as he watched Worf and his family step back into their house. He knew that he wouldn’t be getting such a warm welcome upon his arrival home.

* * * * * * * * *

Sneaking through his own bedroom window was something Will had gotten used to in the past few years. Unfortunately, so had his father.

As Will silently placed the window cover back where it belonged on the frame, he turned and found himself face-to-face with his dad.

“Hey, dad,” Will said shakily, his voice betraying him as he slowly set down his trombone case. “I smell a nice new aftershave. What’s it called? ‘Four-or-five-beers’?”

Will’s dad said nothing and grabbed him by the arm, flinging him onto his bed.

Feeling the bruise from where his dad grabbed him, Will rubbed his arm and grimaced. “Must’ve been the whole six-pack, huh, dad?”

“Do you know what time it is, son?” his father spat.

“Dad, I’ve been over this with you. I’m helping my friend in the orchestra. We just went later than usual tonight, that’s all.”

“I don’t wanna hear it. I know what you’ve been doing after school. You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said, menace lurking somewhere in his voice.

Will swallowed, nervously staring at his father’s clenched fist. “I know. I got into a fight. But that was last week, dad. I swear, I’m only--”

His father kicked over his trombone case. “You don’t get a say in this. You are coming straight home after school tomorrow and cleaning this house. You got that?”

Anger welling up inside of him, Will’s eyes darted down to his toppled trombone case.

“Dad. I paid for that trombone myself. You need to be more careful with it. It’s expensive.”

“I’m sorry,” his dad said, clearly unapologetic. “Did I scratch up your little instrument, son?” He kicked the case again.

Now seething with rage, Will stood up and looked his father dead in the eye.

“Oh, man. If only mom could see what a piece of shit you’ve been to me all these years,” Will said, fire coating his insides.

This was the straw that broke his father’s back. He swung his fist into Will’s left cheek, knocking him down against his bed again. Feeling the swelling immediately, Will swept his dad’s legs and grabbed his trombone case. His dad fell backward, yelling.

Will escaped through the window again, narrowly avoiding his father’s grasping hands. Without thinking, he ran toward Worf’s house.

* * * * * * * * *

“I’m so sorry, I can’t apologize enough for causing such a ruckus.”

“No worries, no worries at all, my boy! You are free to stay here if you need to. I should be the one apologizing to you for the situation you are in.”

“Thank you, sir. So much, sir.”

Worf sat at the bottom of the stairs in his pajamas, watching as his father consoled a distraught Will. He hadn’t even fallen asleep before Will appeared at their front door again, cheek swollen and bruised, tears streaking down his face, trombone case in hand. As Worf’s father comforted Will, he could hear his mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. It sounded like she was calling the police.

“Yes, hello? I would like to report an incident of domestic violence. Me? No, I’m okay. However, my son’s friend appeared at our house with some bad bruises and said that his father had hit him. Yes, you want our address? It’s…”

Worf felt a pang of guilt as he watched his father place a bag of frozen peas on Will’s cheek.

“...Worf…”

If only he could get the hang of his solo sooner, this might not have happened.

“...Worf?”

And even with all the time he had wasted with no improvement today, they only had maybe a few more hours tomorrow to get it right.

“...Worf!”

All of this felt like his fault, but he had no idea how he could fix anything.

“Hey, Worf.”

Worf felt a light tap on his shoulder as he realized he had spaced out for a moment. His father stood with Will beside him.

“Can you find an extra pair of pajamas for Will and get them ready for him? Your mother says that the police should be here in about ten minutes. They’re going to ask him a few questions and more than likely fill out a report to follow up tomorrow. They said that they’ll decide if it’s okay for him to stay here depending on how he answers them.”

“Yes, of course, father,” Worf said, nodding.

Right on schedule, the police arrived and briefly interviewed Will, whose formerly confident voice was undercut drastically by an affected, anguished tone. Worf’s shock was almost as severe as Will’s, and after the police thanked Will for his time and allowed him to stay, without thinking, Worf gently pulled Will into a wordless embrace.

Worf’s mother and father watched with tears in their eyes as the boys rocked back and forth, swaying as calmly as a feather on a breeze.

* * * * * * * * *

After school the next day, Will brought Worf down to the orchestra pit. Will was tired of the passing glances he got from the other students throughout the day. While he had still not heard if there had been any updates about last night’s incident from Worf’s parents or the police, it was clear that the students had come up with their own asinine theories about why his face was so badly bruised and swollen. Mr. Picard had even expressed a deep concern, kindly offering any support or guidance should Will request it. Will didn’t want to talk about it, though, and figured that, if he could help Worf in a place that they couldn’t be seen, he’d be better off for it.

“I’ve never been in such a large orchestra pit before,” Worf said as they descended the steps, obviously trying to get Will’s mind off of things.

“Yeah,” Will said, “since the famous Jean-Luc Picard is not only our orchestra’s director, but also the head of our arts department, getting grant money to fund things is incredibly easy. You’ve got to wonder if grant writers are biased towards famous people or something.”

Worf smiled cautiously. He was treading on eggshells all day with Will, following him like a shadow in an attempt to keep the other kids from bothering him with more than just their stares. Worf took pride in his ability to intimidate people with what he considered to be a “steely glare.”

They set up their music stands and sat facing each other.

“You ready for this, Worf?”

He nodded at Will’s question.

Focus. It was time to focus.

Worf lifted his trumpet to his lips and breathed in slowly. He couldn’t let Will down. Will was strong, and Worf respected that. Admired it, even. Through one of the most challenging nights of Will’s life, Worf saw a boy whose passions and kindness shone like a beacon through the fog. He just had to make sure he didn’t let Will down, or else everything would have been for nothing. Worf breathed out.

Again, focus. Worf was at ease down here with Will. The world seemed still, and he felt as though there was finally some control. Their eyes met as Worf breathed in once more, and Will smiled a warm smile, his cheek still puffed out and purple.

“Let’s take it from the top, Worf.”

* * * * * * * * *

As the judges made their final decisions, Enterprise High’s orchestra seemed to collectively be holding its breath. Mr. Picard’s hand squeezed Will’s shoulder tightly, but not painfully, as he maintained a stoic face. If Will had not been on the receiving end of Picard’s stress-grip, he would not have even realized that Picard was as nervous as he was.

The judges were shuffling around on stage now, and each school’s orchestra was quietly sat in their respective sections of the audience.

“You all performed outstandingly,” Picard said, loud enough for his orchestra to hear, but soft enough so that his voice would not carry in the auditorium. “Let’s just hope that the judges can recognize that.”

Will looked behind him to see Worf glancing back at where his parents sat in the audience. Throughout the performance during his rests, Will had tried to scan the audience to find his own father, but to no avail. Will wasn’t surprised at his father’s absence. Only disappointed and hurt.

Worf turned just in time to see Will scanning the audience once again. Leaning forward, he grabbed Will’s free shoulder and murmured, “My parents have invited you to come to Chili’s with us after this. You are free to come if you wish.”

Will smiled gently and put his hand on Worf’s, keeping it there as one of the judges finally cleared his throat into the microphone, which provided some brief feedback.

“Your third place regional champions are...The Hood High School Senior Orchestra, directed by Robert DeSoto!”

Will heard some polite applause throughout the audience, but an especially excited fervor of clapping coming from where the Hood High students themselves were sitting. Picard and the Enterprise orchestra clapped politely, as well.

“In second place…” the judge croaked, “...We have the Krayton Academy for Gifted Ferengi’s orchestra directed by DaiMon Tog!”

Again, the auditorium filled with applause, this time with much more excitement. Picard clapped especially loudly at this, yelling above the noise, “Good show! Good show!”

“And finally,” the judge said, his dry mouth smacking into the microphone unflatteringly, “for our first place champions are…”

The auditorium fell completely silent. Will felt Picard and Worf’s hands tightly clenching his shoulders as he gripped Worf’s hand as tightly as he could.

“...Enterprise High School’s ‘Orchestra of the Stars,’ directed by Jean-Luc Picard!”

The audience exploded into applause as the whole of the Enterprise orchestra burst from their seats. Will turned to see tears of joy, hugging, kissing, and dancing from his peers. Deanna and Beverly demonstrated an act of PDA that Picard would normally break up in class, but his usual strictness was thrown out the window with the announcement. Geordi and Data hugged tightly, a tear rolling down from behind Geordi’s VISOR. Even O’Brien, who had loudly proclaimed that his performance had been lacking, high-fived the typically meek flutist Reggie Barclay, who had been crying during the entire performance.

Will and Worf did not hesitate to grab each other and hug tightly. They didn’t let each other go for what felt like minutes. Both boys cried. They had done it.

Without Will, Worf couldn’t have done it, and without Worf, Will couldn’t have done it.

Outside of the auditorium, Picard held a short speech for his orchestra and their families. Again, Will and Worf noticed a glaring absence of Will’s father. The police may have let him off with a warning, but he still refused to attend. A bittersweet feeling washed over Will as he simultaneously felt relief and despair in his father’s absence.

Recognizing the menagerie of emotions Will must have been going through in that moment, Worf held Will’s hand tightly and the two listened to Picard ramble on about how great these children were, and how he had learned so much from them in the span of a year, and how he had not always been comfortable around children, among other things.

The two boys looked each other in the eyes as they stood before Picard amidst their peers, proudly smiling at who they were in that moment. There were still two years left for them together at Enterprise High School. Images of what the years would bring flashed in their minds. The hardships. The struggles. The hopes and the fears. Before, these thoughts would have certainly drowned Worf, and with everything that had been happening for Will, without Worf, he, too, would have drowned.

Alone, a trombone may sound just fine, but one could argue that there is a certain completeness when it is paired with a trumpet. A togetherness. A unity. A harmony.

And without even thinking about it at all, Will and Worf had found their harmony.

#Star Trek #TNG #riker x worf #High School AU #Orchestra #My Writing #cw: abuse #cw: alcoholism #cw: child abuse

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wherestoriescomefrom · 5 years

Text

The Music Fades

i actually had no idea that the Uprooted fandom was alive and kicking?????? This is a lesson, always check more than just the top posts in any tag, because honestly, i’m super excited about a ficathon i can no longer participate in!!!!!!!!

Anyway, thank you for the positive response on The Oldest Story in The World. Here, take a more cheerful ficlet. I’ll probably continue it on ao3, whenever I get around to posting it.

Inspired by this post: Sarkan is secretly really good at dancing.

Sarkan held a drink lightly in his hand. He was watching the dancers, maintaining a respectful distance from everyone else. No conversation, whatsoever. Always a terrible escort to any dance.

She felt light headed and cheerful, rather in the mood to do something outrageous, and he was standing there, being a little too tempting.

He spotted her staring. “What?” he snapped.

“You could try to look like you’re enjoying yourself,” she pointed out. “You’re being rude.”

“I am drinking, aren’t I?”

“Weak beer, too,” said Agnieszka. “Try some of the whisky.”

“I’d rather not,” he said shortly.

She swayed a little when she regarded him. “Why not?” she asked. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes too bright. Sarkan narrowed his eyes at her.

“Have you been drinking?”

“So have you!” declared Agnieszka rebelliously. She swayed again as she came closer to him.

“Weak beer, as you yourself pointed out,” Sarkan said, annoyed. “You impossible creature, if you had the gall to get drunk –”

“I would never,” Agnieszka said, with mock horror. “Who would take you home? You’re too grumpy for the other villagers to try.”

“An articulate drunk,” murmured Sarkan murderously. “And I’m not grumpy.”

“Well, I’m not drunk,” said Agnieszka. “Just a little tipsy. Come and dance, Sarkan!”

“What?” he asked, momentarily befuddled. “No. No, thank you.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” wheedled Agnieszka. She tugged at his sleeve, and nearly slipped. Sarkan instinctively caught her before she fell.

“Not drunk, she says,” he muttered angrily.

Agnieszka tugged at his sleeves again. “Come!” she said. “I’ll teach you! I promise, I know you are not that good –”

His grip on her hand had tightened subtly.

Sarkan’s lips were unbelievably thin. She knew she had made a mistake, but she hadn’t the slightest idea what it was. She swallowed as she looked up at him.

He dragged her to the dancing floor, then. The villagers fell to the side, clearing a path for The Witch of the Wood and the Dragon Lord. It was irritating, even now, that they did that with little to no thought. The music, which had temporarily paused in shock started once again.

Oh dear, he may not know this dance, she thought to herself. It was a peasant’s song, and the dance had so many different variations, depending on where it came from that she was certain Sarkan wouldn’t know it.

She stepped one to the side, and he effortlessly matched her. Agnieszka’s eyes widened.

Sarkan matched her almost without thinking. His lips were thin with irritation at her having drunk too much – and his fingers laced hers, which was an odd detail to note. She looked around, finding the villagers a little surprised – she was a little goddamn surprised! – because Sarkan had spun her lightly when the dance demanded it.

Agnieszka herself stumbled a little helplessly (unsurprising, given that she was more than a little tipsy) and he held her tightly close to him. She looked at the buttons of his ridiculously fancy coat, and she frowned at him.

“Sarkan,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You traitor.”

He looked down at her, taken aback. Perhaps he didn’t think that this was akin to a betrayal to King and Country, but he would be wrong. She would eat him alive for this – this – this – behaviour.

The villagers, finally deciding their lord was no longer in a foul mood, re-entered the dance floor. Sarkan and Agnieszka were surrounded by couples cautiously trying their best to eavesdrop their conversation while staying out of their way.

“You mole. You – you – you – and you call me impossible!” she declared. She stepped sideways and then narrowed her eyes when he delicately danced to the side and proffered his fingers.

She took it, but she was cross. “Explain yourself, Sarkan.”

“I haven’t an idea what you mean,” he said. And he looked like he was telling the truth, so she pondered her explanation.

“You can dance!” she said. They swayed to the music again, and she found herself helplessly pressed to his chest.

Sarkan looked, if it was possible, even more surprised. “Yes,” he said. “I’m rather fond of it,” he added formally. Agnieszka was seized with the regrettable urge to kiss him in the middle of the floor. This was unfortunate because she also wanted to punch him in the teeth.

“I don’t believe you,” she continued, as she walked around him, holding his hand. “This is a peasant dance. A variation dance – you’d have to be really, really fond of dancing to know it. Oh my god – you are, aren’t you? You stiff upper-lipped grouch – you adore dancing don’t you?”

He didn’t say anything, but there was the self satisfied smirk of someone having proved a point.

“Oh god. God this – this is terrible, as if I needed another damn reason to be attracted to you. This isn’t done, Sarkan. I’m never speaking to you again.”

He spun her beautifully, and she was pressed close to his chest again. This was entirely against the plan.

“Stop that,” she ordered. “I will not have it!”

“I hadn’t an idea that this was something you enjoyed,” he said mercilessly.

“Sarkan!” she said dangerously. It didn’t help that her cheeks were red and he was looking even more tempting.

Everyone was openly staring at their lord, who was smiling. Whispers passed amongst everyone, and whispers which carried. Agnieszka, already thoroughly annoyed and aroused at the same time was relieved when the music faded.

“Come,” she said, tugging at his sleeves again.

“Another?” he asked her. “I am quite proficient in most dances, Agnieszka –”

But she had already performed the spell to transport them to his castle. Anything that happened from that moment onwards would be rather unsavoury to report.

#this came out of a fangirling session with anushmita #as most things in my life do lately #anushmita was squealing as we can all imagine #anyway enjoy #fully expecting maybe five notes but crossing my fingers tbh #agnieszka x sarkan #agnieszka #sarkan x agnieszka #sarkan #uprooted #naomi novik #hello void this is ridiculosity #gosh i should keep writing song as old as rhyme #ANYWAY #REALLY HAD FUN WRITING THIS #I'LL PROBABLY WRITE THE NEXT BIT AS WELL #WHICH MEANS #YOU KNOW IT #S M U T

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