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theoptimisticdaydreamer · 2 years

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If there was ever a drama that consistently reminded you that your tearducts still work, it is Tomorrow. Episode 5 was anguish and heartache wrapped in a bow.

Episode 5 really highlighted how Na Young is such a devastating loss to Woo Jin. She was his sun. She was his person. His childhood had been lonely and tragic. When I saw his father telling him that it was his fault his mother died, I wanted to reach into the computer and shove him out of the window. I would estimate that he was around six at least when his father’s funeral took place. That means he was around that terrible human being for six years as he whispered into Woo Jin’s ear that he was useless, everything was his fault and he shouldn’t be alive. I am so glad that he was able to feel the warm embrace of a family who genuinely loves him. The birthday celebration (that he never had before) and the smiling family photo made my heart sing. After what must have been a terrifying childhood, to be able to smile as you say mom, dad and sister and have a happy home to come home to must have been such a blessing. My heart broke for him as he lost his entire family in an instant. It broke even further as he blamed himself for the accident. I want the father to rot in hell for eternity for planting the idea in his head that the death of loved ones is his fault. Also, may Na Young’s parents also rot there with him. How dare you dismiss the career of the man your daughter loves?! How dare you care more about appearances then about what makes your daughter happy?! How dare you accuse the husband of killing your daughter when the truck driver was at fault?!

The more you watch Na Young and Woo Jin’s lovestory the more tragically beautiful it becomes. They were so happy together. All of their happy memories together made me cry happy tears. Seeing Woo Jin smile so genuinely after getting a glimpse into his past made me so incredibly happy. It showed how Na Young really transformed his life and made him happy to live again because he had someone to go through life with. I love how she likens people to trees because your life can change depending on who you meet. I think that rings true not only for the audience but for the people that the Risk Management Team have helped so far. Their lives have been changed by the Risk Management Team and by those who they anchored onto to bring them back from the edge. I think what made their love for one another unwavering was the aftermath of the dinner with her parents. He closed in on himself, taking all of the father’s words to heart and pushed her away and literally out. However, when it rained (love this symbolic rain), he rushed outside with an umbrella worried about her. He thought she left but she didn’t go anywhere (which is symbolic of her unwavering love for him throughout their story). I was tearing up as she pleaded with him in the rain and when he caved and hugged her (implicitly saying that he wanted to be with her too regardless of everyone else) made me sigh in relief. Their hugs were also a thing of beauty throughout the episode. I love that it is Na Young who gives Woo Jin the plant that becomes meaningful later on in the story and it is Na Young who proposes to Woo Jin. It is probably one of the most beautiful simple yet meaningful proposals I have ever heard. Can I be the one to make the flowers on your tree bloom? I’ll water it really well and give it lots of sunlight. I am confident that I can help it grow and bloom beautiful flowers. I won’t waver. Woo Jin has received very little love and care throughout his life and Na Young is beautifully asking to care for him for the rest of her life. The melody that he plays as his answer and she just beams back made me love the two of them even more. The revelation that she loved him so much she swerved the car to protect him broke me. The depth of their love for one another is truly beautiful. I wish I was seeing their love story in any other context. They deserve a happy ending and hopefully they will get one in their next life.

I am glad that they were able to reach him in time. The schematics of how exactly that worked did not make complete sense to me. I think it was because he was so close to dying that she was able to connect with him in the in between (that looked a lot like the Director’s garden) as opposed to before earlier in the episode. I am so happy that they were able to speak face to face because I don’t think they would have reached him any other way. That scene was the stand out scene for this entire episode and delivered on the feels. Them hugging each other tightly already had me sobbing. The way that they looked at each other. When he told her that she should have never met him and that it was his fault and she tells him instead that all of the happiest moments in her life have him in it tugged on every single one of my heartstrings. I am so glad that she told him so to finally erase the hold those accusations had on him. Now, whenever they accuse him of anything, he will hear her voice in his head instead. Also, you won’t be alone. we will be waiting together. no matter how long I have to wait, I will only love you. Life fully for the both of us. MY HEART. And the way she put his wedding ring back on his finger! This entire scene is perfection. I think it is nigh impossible to watch this scene and not weep and melt at the same time.

Her words did save him after all. I find it a little unrealistic that it went all the way down to 10% but maybe that is a testament to how much he loves her and the dedication he has to seeing her again when the time comes. The plant she gave him budding was just another sign that she is always with him which I thought was sweet. I think while she was the one who made the flowers on his tree bloom, I think she also gave him roots once she passed. She is the reason he is hanging on.

The song. THE SONG WAS BEAUTY INCARNATE. The emotion in Woo Jin’s voice and the lyrics that he used. The melody that was the proposal acceptance melody. That he is also performing in the exact same location where they met again. Truly beautiful. That song is an absolute melancholic masterpiece.

Na Young’s tree metaphor could also be applied to Ryeon and Joong Gil. The revelation this episode is that they were alive together. Not only were they alive but they were childhood sweethearts that were about to get married. They were in love. They were the people who helped the flowers on each other’s trees bloom. Joong Gil playfully putting pink rouge on her eyelids because he was curious and then telling her she looked pretty and that he loved her...her continuing to wear that pink eyeshadow because it was meaningful to her. That pink eyeshadow tied her to him. At the beginning of the episode, when Woo Jin was yelling at Ryeon accusing her of not knowing what it felt like, the pain he was feeling at the loss of his wife, the minute change in her facial expression gave me the feeling that she did know what it felt like. When she told him that people just say it must be difficult, it must hurt, it seemed like she was speaking from personal experience because those words were spoken to her. I think she lost her love too. Furthermore, in the modern time, Joong Gil implied that he chose to keep her by his side (and take her under his wing). This means that he became a Reaper before her. This means that he had to have died before her. Young Joong Gil mentioned that he was going to be stationed as a soldier on the border. So, I think he was killed in battle. I don’t think he died through taking his own life because if he did he would not have the perspective he does now. In the flashback, it looked like they were actually on their wedding parade because they were both dressed in formal wedding attire. This means they were MARRIED and that Ryeon lost her husband. Her HUSBAND. Once she lost her husband, the person she was so devoted to, her life became dangerous (as seen as flashes in previous episodes). What on earth happened to cause the entire town to throw rocks at her?! Whatever happened after drove her to walking through Hell with no regret or resentment. I also think that the red string on her wrist may be tied to him.

This makes the story between Joong Gil and Ryeon similarly tragic to that of Woo Jin and Na Young. They were in love and married. Her husband was killed and she had to experience life without him. Then, in the afterlife she had to cope with the fact that her husband did not remember her which must have been heartbreaking (she possibly kept all of her memories because of the way she died). His point of view on s**cide must have felt like a dagger to the heart because he was unknowingly minimizing the pain she experienced once he was gone. And then for him to treat her so coldly and at times violently... the agony. The centuries in which the person she loved so deeply became a completely different person. However, even a Joong Gil without memories felt the pull towards the woman he loved because he took her under his wing and kept her by his side.

This is a tragic lovestory that has spanned centuries already. Now that I know this deep connection existed before; that they have been entwined together since the very beginning, what I want to see going forward has changed. Fundamentally, I need them to have closure. I need them to reconcile. I need more than a 5 second piece at the end of the last episode (cough Hotel del Luna cough). I need Joong Gil to realize just how important Ryeon is to him. I need him to remember how much he loved(loves) her. Not that Ryeon needs saving, but I need Joong Gil to be there when she needs him and aide her, especially if she is backed into a corner and it is looking helpless. I want to see him realize she is in danger and be so freaking worried and run to be there. I need them to have each other’s backs, in times of action and in the quiet times in between. I need them to talk it out. I need him to apologize for treating her like shit. I need him to FINALLY UNDERSTAND HER PERSPECTIVE. I need those subtle tender moments between them back. Those little gestures that conveyed how much they cared. Those moments that spoke more than words. I want these all with plenty of episodes to spare. We have seen them as rivals and frosty colleagues for long enough. Bring me forward development with this relationship. Please. At the very least, I need the pain she has been carrying by herself for centuries to feel lighter.

People who are destined to be with each other are connected by a red thread beyond their souls. They will find each other no matter how many times they are reborn. Ryeon has one end of the thread and I have a hunch that Joong Gil had the other end while they were alive. However, in the present day, the red thread is only wrapped around her wrist. The only way you can break the thread is by s**cide. The more time passes, the more I think that this is how Ryeon passed away. Once you break the thread, I assume you will no longer be able to find the other person no matter how many times you are reborn. Which means, the time in Jumadeung is the last time Joong Gil and Ryeon will spend together. Please let them reconcile. Is there a way to repair the red thread? Reconnect it? Can we invent one? Its not only sad for the person who is left behind but also for the one who has to leave. I want each of them to know how hard it was for the other to leave them behind. That Grim Reaper’s Agreement cannot be changed by the Director so maybe his wish ultimately is that she always stays by his side and that they meet in every life time (thereby pseudo repairing the red thread). I will manifest this into existence. Every single one of them deserves a happy ending.

Ryeon continues to be a source of admiration as the series passes. The extent that she is willing to go to save just one person’s soul shows just how much she cares. She even pushed herself beyond her limits by using her powers despite having the punishment ring on. I have a feeling that because the subject matter was so personal to her, she was willing to put herself on the line so much. It is inevitable that the subject matter becomes personal to different members of the team at different points. I believe you must love and care for those who are around you as someone who has a tomorrow to live. Once again, a powerful message that many can relate to.

You also saw snippets of the team growing closer this episode which I appreciated. Seeing Ryung Gu in action was very enjoyable and touching was the fact that he did that to give them time (which for some reason they did not use to find Woo Jin directly which was the entire point). Jun Woong runs to Ryung Gu after he is thrown against the wall in concern. They are all concerned about Ryeon after she enters into the contract with Joong Gil (which I pray he does not exploit and use against her). She protects the soul of Na Young partly out of persuasion from Jun Woong. Ryung Gu is lightly concerned when he sees Jun Woong crying at Na Young’s departure. I can’t wait to continue to see them grow closer.

The conversation between Joong Gil and the Director was much needed. I am glad that she told him to think about how they must be feeling to choose death because no one said those few words to them. I guarantee you that there isn’t anyone anywhere who chooses death easily. What drives people to that choice cannot be solved with a few words and often they feel isolated and alone. They are also sad to leave. Its such an important message and I am appreciative that they took it seriously. It also looks like it made Joong Gil think and reassess which I am very grateful for. The conversation with the Director also revealed that he didn’t need to be where the Risk Management team was. Mr. Play-By-The-Rules did not follow his own rules because he was curious. I think this curiosity mixed with the Director’s wise words will have him popping up more and more with more understanding of the souls the Risk Management team are trying to save and I am here for it. Please please please start to work together. PLEASE.

How dare Woo Jin’s song be played again in the epilogue in full rendering me in tears completely. The video diary of their love just once again illustrated how much they loved one another and how much he treasured her. I demand to see their reincarnated happily every after.

The next episode looks like it will be very personal to Ryeon again. This time it deals with regrets you carry for a lifetime (which again is very relatable). My heart aches for Jun Woong as he becomes attached to every single person they try to help. You can hear Joong Gil’s voice at the end of the trailer and it isn’t as harsh as it was previously so I am wondering if he will become softer going forward (even if it is marginally). I hope he isn’t actively working against them. Maybe he can be soft enough to offer words of support or even a shoulder as Jun Woong gets emotionally wrecked once again (with the rest of us).

#tomorrow #tomorrow kdrama #mbc tomorrow #rowoon #lee soo hyuk #jun woong #joong gil #koo ryeon #ryung gu #people are trees who can change depending on who they meet #a masterpiece of a bittersweet love story #have you heard a better proposal? no #can I be the one to make your flowers bloom? i will take care of you with sunlight and water and never waver #you are not alone we will wait together but live fully for the both of us #the song that can make rocks cry #ryeon and joong gil were alive together #they were in love and getting married!#the red thread #please reconcile #please finally fucking work together #it is not only sad for those who are left behind but those who have to leave #the pink eyeshadow #no one chooses death easily #found family risk management team #do not exploit this contract joong gil for the love of everything #love and care for those around you as people with tomorrow to live #ep 5 #kim hee sun

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Marinette Family Court Reveal

After the overwhelming resonse I received from Marinette Family Court Circus, how could I not write a sequel? This story focuses more on what was going on with the class and what they’re seeing on the news. There will be some salt coming, so have a glass of water on hand. Anyways, Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The class was in a state of shock. In the span of 24 hours, there was so much joy and tragedy. Gathered at Alya’s apartment, they watched TVi news as Hawkmoth and Mayura were unmasked as Gabriel Agreste and his assistant, Nathalie. The class was in an uproar for a while, wondering if Adrien had been involved.

Lila shed tears, real ones, at the loss of her modeling job and the chance to keep Adrien as a trophy boyfriend. Now, he was useless to her. Anything to do with him would be toxic to her reputation, her only chance was to use her tears and claim that she’d had no idea that he was involved in such things. That he must have been trying to use her to get close to her mother to have international backing. Luckily, her classmates were such sheep that no one questioned what she said. They just comforted her, even ignoring the announcement of Adrien being exonerated of any charges, beyond a reasonable doubt, a few hours later.

The following day in class, Mme. Bustier came in and announced that not only had Adrien been pulled out of school for his own safety, but Marinette would not be attending for a while. “I’m afraid that she was in a terrible accident and has been put in the hospital.”

“How bad?” Alya asked, standing from her chair.

“She’s alive, but I’m afraid that her parents and grandmother were killed in a fatal car accident.”

From there, gossip flew all around the room. How bad had it been? How hurt was Marinette? Do you think the accident was Marinette’s fault?

What?

They weren’t sure who asked that question, but it brought up other things. How she’d been acting strange the past few months. The way she’d distanced herself from everyone in class. How she’d been bullying Lila when she thought no one was looking. Always calling Lila a liar even though she had no proof. It was clear to everyone that she was a troubled girl, but the idea that she’d caused the accident and killed her parents and grandmother? That didn’t seem like the girl they knew.

Still, they weren’t sure. So, no one really reached out to her in the hospital. No one called or went to visit to see if she was alright. Except Lila, she put the fear of her bully aside and went to check on her, only to call Alya crying an hour later.

“I don’t understand why she hates me so much.” Lila sobbed on Alya’s couch and the spectacled girl rubbed her friend’s back. “All I did was tell her that I was worried about her, but she yelled at me and told me to get out of the room. But I can’t blame her. I think she’s just scared.”

“Of course she’s scared, she just lost her family-”

“No, she killed her family!” Lila stressed, looking freaked out. “She admitted it to me, like she didn’t think anyone would believe me! She said she distracted her father while he was driving and caused the crash since they were starting to get wise to how she really is, and that her grandmother was just ‘collateral damage’. I didn’t think anyone could be so cruel!”

Alya was in shock. She hadn’t thought that Marinette, someone she used to think of as a friend, would ever do something like that. Especially to her own family. But… Lila had never lied to her, why would she start now? “Do the police know about this?”

Lila shook her head. “I’m not sure. But I do know that she’s talking to a lawyer, she’s probably going to get her inheritance and disappear before anyone figures out what she’s done.”

“Don’t worry, girl. I won’t let her get away with this.”

“What are you going to do?” Lila asked, her voice trembling.

“Whatever I need to do to get justice for Tom and Sabine.”

~oOo~

To say that the reaction Alya got from the Paris Police Department when told them that she had a source that Marinette had killed her family in order to collect her inheritance and disappear… it hadn’t been well received. Officer Roger came to the interrogation room personally, seeing as how she was in his daughter’s class, as Alya sat with her extremely angry parents.

“Do you want to explain why you just tried to file a false police report?” Officer Roger asked her.

“It’s not false! I have a source.”

“And who might that be?”

She hesitated at that, Lila had begged her to keep her name out of it. “I’m not really comfortable saying.”

“Then how exactly did this source of yours, gain this information?”

Thinking it over for a moment, she decided that was okay. “It was someone that visited Marinette, she admitted to my source that she purposefully distracted her father while he was driving and caused the crash.” When Officer Roger looked even angrier, she knew that must have been right and he didn’t want to admit that he’d been wrong.

At least…

“Mlle. Cesaire, as this has been made public knowledge, allow me to tell you exactly how wrong your source is. Firstly, Tom Dupain was not driving the car, Gina Dupain was driving. As for Marinette causing the accident, that’s also untrue. Street cameras confirm that four university students ran a red light and struck their car. The driver of the other car even confessed to having been drinking and causing the accident.”

Alya was in shock. Tom hadn’t been driving and Marinette hadn’t caused the accident… that would mean…

“Hate to break it to you Mlle. Cesaire, but whoever your source is has lied to you and caused you to be charged with filing a false police report.”

All the way home, Alya’s parents were scolding her for even thinking that Marinette could do such a thing. “She has always been such a good friend to you, and don’t think we don’t know about all the times you had Marinette watch Ella and Etta while you went off on dates with Nino. I bet you never even offered to pay her for babysitting the girls, did you?” Her father snapped as he parked the car outside their apartment building.

“And what about all the dresses and handmade gifts she gave you, some for no reason at all. Did you ever even thank her for those? And still, you accuse her of killing her entire family and almost getting herself killed for money? Why would you ever believe that?”

Seeing no reason to keep it to herself anymore, she told them. She told them how Marinette seemed to change when her new friend, Lila, came to school. How she had been calling her a liar just because she was jealous about the glamorous life she lived, the celebrities she knew, and her crush on Adrien. How she kept on accusing Lila of lying and faking injuries, even to the point of hurting her when Marinette threw a napkin at her and strained her sprained wrist. And then, when Marinette had been expelled, how she had accused Lila of being behind the whole thing.

When she was finished explaining, she thought for sure that she’d convinced her parents. Then she saw the looks on their faces.

“Alya, at any point, did you ever look up any of Lila’s claims?” Her mother asked in a slow, even voice.

“Now you sound like Marinette!”

“You do not talk to your mother like that!” Her father snapped before taking a deep breath to steady himself. Even without Hawkmoth around, it was difficult for people to express themselves as they used to. “Alya, I want you to take out your phone and look up any articles that have to do with Jagged Stone and Lila Rossi.”

Realizing how upset her parents were, she did what her father told her, knowing that she would find the proof in a couple minutes and they would see that Marinette…

Her phone read 1 result found: the Ladyblog.

Confused, she looked up any connection between Lila and Bruce Wayne. She said that she was practically a member of the family and that she and Damien Wayne were…

1 result found: the Ladyblog

Her hands were beginning to shake as she did her search for Lila and Tony Stark, that had to be true! She had talked about meeting him over video chat in class and how they’d talked about…

1 result found: the Ladyblog

Search after search, it was all the same. Lila and Clara Nightingale, Lila and Prince Ali, Lila and XY, Lila and the Avengers, Lila and Ladybug: 1 result found: the Ladyblog.

“I-I don’t understand?”

“Did you, at any time, check your sources before posting them?” Her mother asked, but Alya didn’t answer. She’d thought that Lila’s word had been enough, but… “This Lila girl has been lying to you, and apparently she’s been bullying someone who you used to think was a real friend. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

And she really was. She’d turned on Marinette, accusing her of being a jealous bully that had killed her own family, all on the word of a liar. So when her parents grounded her and told her that she was to shut down the Ladyblog, she didn’t argue. The blog was so full of lies that she would never be able to use it as a credible source for work experience in the future, if she even had a future in journalism anymore.

~oOo~

The next day at school, Alya could barely lift her eyes to meet anyone around her. Her mother said that she should be ashamed, and she was. She was ashamed, mortified, depressed, and all together hating herself after spending the entire night thinking of all the cruel and terrible things she had said to and about her former friend. She wasn’t going to delude herself thinking that she and Marinette could ever be friends again, she didn’t deserve her after throwing her aside for a bunch of fake stories and glittery lies.

But there was still one thing she could do. It wouldn’t make things right but it would probably be something Marinette would have done if she could have. So Alya got to class early and connected her laptop to the overhead projector. When everyone, barring Adrien and Marinette got to class. She got down to business.

“Everyone, I’ve got something very important to tell you, it has to do with Marinette.” She could already hear the murmurs around the classroom, Lila must have messaged them the lies while she’d been at the police station. “I want to start by saying that we have been misinformed. After speaking with the police and doing a ton of research, I can say with close to 100% certainty that Marinette never bullied Lila and that Lila has been lying to us since she got here.”

Before Lila could say anything, Alya brought up her first powerpoint slide. “I did a search last night on all the connections that Lila’s told us about with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Prince Ali, and many others; and they all came up the same thing” The slide showed a screen shots of her searches, showing the only result being the Ladyblog.

“Lila also told me the other day, how she went to visit Marinette and she confessed that she distracted her father while he was driving to cause the accident and kill her family so she could collect her inheritance.” Alya switched slides to the news article on the accident. “Yet the police report, traffic cameras, and witnesses all claim that to be false. Marinette’s grandmother was driving. The other driver admitted to running the light and causing the accident. And seeing as Marinette has never hid her dislike of Lila, it’s highly doubtful that she would even let Lila into her hospital room, let alone tell her something like that.”

The class had been staring at the slides in a state of shock until Alya finished speaking. Then all of them were whipping out their phones to do their own searches. Lila looked to be in a state of panic, unsure if she could bring anyone back to her side after showing all this evidence and everyone suddenly looking things up themselves.

“Oh, and Lila,” Alya said in a slightly sweet voice that made the italian glare. “So you know, my parents grounded me when the police charged me for filing a false police report after what you told me. They also decided to call the embassy to talk to your mother directly. I hope you at least get into as much trouble as you tried to do to Marinette.”

The girl didn’t want to stick around to find out, she was about to run out of the class but Mme. Bustier entered a second later and told everyone to take their seats. Lila tried to get herself excused multiple times, but the teacher just said “I understand that you must be upset by everything that has happened, but please know that you don’t have to leave the room to cry. This is a safe place again, and we are here for you.”

Before Lila’s 4th attempt to be excused, M. Damocles’ assistant knocked on the door and said that Lila was required in the office. The girl shot Alya an if-I-could-kill-you-now-I-would look before gathering her things and stomping out of the classroom. Alya hoped that she would never see the girl again.

Then just before lunch, Markov came on and alerted everyone that the news was talking about Marinette. Mme. Bustier turned the projector back on and plugged Markov in. Sure enough, there was Marinette, looking much worse for wear. She was in a wheelchair with her right leg and arm in casts. They could see cuts healing on her exposed skin and she was much more pale than the last time they saw her. But what really caught the class’ attention, was what the bar read at the bottom of the screen. “Custody battle between Stark, Wayne, and Stone”.

The camera switched from Marinette to Jagged Stone. “Tom and Sabine were like family to me, some of the most rock’n’roll folks I’ve ever met. When I got the call saying that they were gone and Marinette had no one else, all I could think about was being there for the rockin’ little lady. She is the kindest, smartest, and most talented girl I’ve ever met. Whatever it takes, I’m going to do what I can to help her.”

Then the camera went to Tony Stark. “Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng were the kind of people others should strive to be; they stood up for what was right and let you know if you were wrong. I was on the receiving end of their lectures more than once, and they’re probably one of the reasons why I put on the suit over and over again. They helped make me a better man… and now they’re gone. I can never repay them for how they helped me, the least I can do is try to give their daughter a safe environment to heal.”

Finally, the camera came to Bruce Wayne and his sons. “I know the pain of losing one's parents when you’re young, it’s not something I would wish on anyone. But I had a support system when I was young, one of those people was Gina Dupain, a wonderful woman that forced me to see that there was still good in the world. She passed that goodness and strength to Tom Dupain and was lucky enough to find a good woman like Sabine. The fact that they are gone from the world… all I could think when I heard of their passing was how dark the world would become without the three of them. But there is also so much goodness in their daughter, Marinette. If I can have the opportunity; I just hope that I can do for Marinette, what Gina did for me.”

When the camera switched again, it came to Nadja Chamack, who looked a little teary eyed. “This story has been admittedly difficult for me to remain objective, as I know… knew the family personally. I do agree with Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, and Bruce Wayne in saying that Tom, Sabine, and Gina were wonderful people and it is a great loss that they are no longer with us. TVi news will continue to follow this story as it develops. Back to you, Alec.”

Mme. Bustier’s class watched the news in total shock. They’d had no idea that Marinette knew Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne, but how could they have forgotten that she knew Jagged Stone and Nadja Chamack. Hell, Alya had even watched Manon with her more than once.

All the things Lila had promised them, Marinette probably could have done and more. She could have introduced Kitty Section and Nino to Jagged Stone and given them an in to the music industry. Computer programming and robotics for Max, there was no one better known in the industry than Tony Stark. Business and charities, an introduction to Bruce Wayne could have done wonders for Chloe, Sabrina, and Mylene. If Alya had even asked while they were still friends, Marinette may have asked Nadja if they were offering any internships at TVi for her. And even if her former friend didn’t have any obvious contacts in sports for Kim, or art for Alix and Nathaniel; with the way her name was getting out there with her fashion designs, she’d have probably made connections within the next few years.

A look around the room told Alya that the class was thinking the same thing. If they had just listened to their friend, instead of calling her jealous. If they had looked into a single thing Lila said instead of blindly following her. If they had even just gone to visit Marinette in the hospital rather than leave her alone during the hardest time of her life… No, they had no right to ask anything of her and all of them knew it.

Later that day, just before school let out for the day, Markov alerted everyone that Marinette was leaving the courthouse and the little robot was reconnected to the projector. What they saw was Marinette giving a small smile, her lawyer looking relieved, and the three men smiling fondly at the teenage girl. When the reporters started firing questions at them they were silenced when Marinette raised her good arm and motioned for everyone to calm down before pointing to Nadja.

“Has the judge come to a decision on the subject of custody?” Nadja asked, pointing her microphone at Marinette. Only to be answered by her lawyer, the bar listed his name as M. Contere.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng and I have presented a proposal to the judge, it has yet to be finalized but I will say that it holds potential.”

Marinette pointed to another reporter, who had been politely raising his hand. “Mssrs. Stone, Stark, and Wayne seem to be in high spirits, does this indicate that the final decision will allow for all parties to have interactions with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

M. Contere kept a straight, professional face, but everyone could see the happy crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “Although I cannot, at this time, comment on the specifics of the proposal, I will say that it is in the best interests of my client.”

Marinette chose a young girl who looked a bit overwhelmed but smiled gratefully. “This question is directed to Mssrs. Stone, Stark, and Wayne. What kind of accommodations are you planning on making if receiving custody?”

The three men shared a look before smiling at the young reporter.

“Anything Marinette will need to heal and make a future for herself,” Bruce Wayne began.

“And probably a bunch of things she’ll say she doesn’t need, but will end up giving her anyway, since she deserves everything.” Tony Stark smiled down at her, earning a you-better-not look from Marinette, and caused a few reporters to chuckle.

“All of us here see this rockin’ little lady as family, these custody hearings will make it official. I can say with great certainty that, no matter what the judge decides, myself and these two men will do everything in our power to help her in any way we can.” Jagged said, as he placed a gentle hand on top of Marinette’s head.

M. Contere pointed at a different reporter this time, and was visibly surprised by the question. “There has been a rumor going around that Marinette purposefully caused the accident to collect her inheritance, any comment?”

The three powerful men that were standing behind Marinette became visibly upset and Marinette began to cry. Before Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, or Bruce Wayne could advance on the reporter to demand where he had heard such a claim, their lead lawyers stepped forward. The intimidating force that the three of them exuded was enough that all of the reporters took a few steps back.

“That question is a blatant falsehood that was founded by rumor, not facts,” stated the Stone lawyer in a cold voice as he stared down the reporter who asked the question.

The Wayne lawyer continued, speaking clearly so no one would mishear or misquote what was said. “As stated in the police report and other sources, the accident was caused when a group of university students failed to yield at a red light and struck the Dupain-Chengs’ vehicle. The driver has already pleaded guilty to charges of DUI, three counts of vehicular manslaughter, and vehicular assault.”

The camera panned over to Tony Stark’s lawyer, as he finished speaking quietly to the three men before turning back to the camera. “These comments have also come to the attention of the Paris Police Department, as someone attempted to file a false police report on the matter. After a brief discussion with Mssrs. Stone, Wayne, and Stark, they have agreed to work together, along with the PPD, to find the source of these rumors and see the individual brought up on charges of slander, harassment, and defamation of character; among other charges.”

“No more questions,” M. Contere said as he and the other lawyers escorted their clients away from the courthouse. The reporters tried to ask more questions, but were met with icy looks and ‘no comment”.

Alya couldn’t help but smile at that. After school, when Officer Roger came to pick up Sabrina, she would tell him exactly who her source was. She would tell who her “source” had been and all the things she’d said about Marinette since she’d started attending school. She would show him all the recordings on her blog before it was shut down and send him video copies of Lila’s interviews as evidence. If she was lucky, Lila would also be charged for slandering Jagged Stone, Tony Stark, and Bruce Wayne; as well as Marinette.

Again, Alya knew that this wouldn’t fix her friendship with Marinette, but it was also the right thing to do. And for the first time in a long time, she was going to be on the side of good.

Taglist:

@whydoexamsexist @geekydragonyt @thornalchemist23

@maribat-is-lifeblood @ironspiderstark @miyla-lokidottir

@futursworld @luveverything12 @dreamkitty25

@smolplantmum @imablinkmarvelarmy @moonlitiiminie

@chez-pezeater

#ml fic #marinette deserves better #maribat #ml au #bruce wayne #tony stark #jagged stone #marinette dupain cheng #alya salt #alya redemption #lila salt #lila gets exposed #class salt #mlbjustice

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 31

(Master Post)

Thank you everyone that took part in the contest. The entries and voting participation were amazing!

I can't thank you guys enough for making this such a fun time.

And congratulations to @bevvydraws for winning.

and the other wonderful finalists: @emdoddles, @heizerux, @dhdrawings and @spaghetti-l0rd

I hope you all enjoy this next part. I would love to hear your comments, and please share if you think it is worth being seen by others.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Lila!” Mrs. Rossi cried out after her daughter left the room in a hurry. The diplomat was ready to run after her only daughter.

“Mrs. Rossi, a moment please.” Principal Damocles asked with a demeanor that was stern yet not too harsh.

The mother turned to the elderly principal and the young concerned teacher standing next to him.

“Miss Bustier, please go locate Lila for us. I will handle everything from here. Afterwards, head back to the classroom.”

The red-haired teacher snapped to normal.

“Oh, of course. If you need any additional information, please reach out to me.”

The young teacher left the room to go find the young exchange student. Leaving the Principal and Lila’s mother alone.

“What is all of this about Mr.Damocles? Why was my daughter so distraught?”

The owl hero enthusiast took a moment to contemplate how he was going to word his discoveries to Lila’s caring mother.

“Mrs. Rossi, are you aware of Lila’s actions and behavior at her previous school?”

“Of course, My daughter was an excellent student. Top of her class, perfect attendance she was the perfect role model from the report cards I received.”

The principal took a breath which seemed to take the wind out of Mrs.Rossi’s statement.

“I was afraid you would say that.”

The principal turned his computer screen to Mrs. Rossi.

The older gentleman sat by patiently as he watched the mother frantically go through each document.

“There must be some mistake. I haven’t seen any of this! My daughter is a good girl!”

“I am afraid those are the records I had attained this morning. I made sure to check that these were authentic before calling you, and I have yet to find a single reason to believe that they have been altered.”

The horror that the Italian diplomat was experiencing was clear. She did not want to believe that her daughter had been lying to her.

She had gotten to the last document, an audio file.

“What’s this one?” She asked nervously, unsure if she even wanted to know the truth behind it.

“It is an audio recording of your daughter. She seems to have been bullying one of the students at our school. I would normally like to get both students’ side of the story before making any rash judgements, but the evidence in the file is rather concise.”

Mrs.Rossi could feel the tension in the air, this was likely going to be something that would change how she viewed her daughter, but she needed to be sure that these accusations against her were true. The diplomat knew that if there was even the slightest hint of doubt, she would use it to fight for her daughter with every fiber of her being.

“Let me… Let me hear the file.”

The principal took note of the woman’s conviction. She was willing to see this through to the end.

“Very well.”

He presses play.

__________________________________________________________________________

“Lila!” The young red head teacher called out in concern as she exited the school. She had been searching the entire building for the young transfer student.

She blamed herself for how everything turned out. How could she not have noticed the way Lila was acting? How could she not be aware that one of her own students was lying to her? Why was she so blind to the malicious actions of her own student? Was there a way to bring her back to being a good person?

Caline kept looking as these questions kept swarming her brain. She had to find Lila, she needed to talk with her firmly. She needed to see if there was still some good in her. Maybe she could help Lila turn over a new leaf, she was still just a young teen, she had time to turn things around. Chloé had started improving a bit since the start of the school year, so maybe Lila could as well.

A flash of light from a nearby alleyway caught the attention of the frantic teacher.

“Oh no…” She ran towards flash, hoping that the sudden light was not her student getting akumatized. She hoped she wasn’t too late.

“Lila?” She called out as she entered the small entryway. Her worried expression shifted to horror when she had found herself face to face with an akuma.

“So Sorry Miss Bustier, you just missed her.” The voice taunted with cynical glee.

The akumatized individual that stood in front of her had a crown like mask that transitioned from white to black as it covered the top of her face. Her brown hair slowly shifted whit as it reached the ends of her hair. Her eyes glowing with an ethereal white light, showing her fury. Her outfit was reminiscent of a costume in a high-end stage production, adorned with various masks, each showing different emotions and alternating in black and white color scheme. Her right hand was wearing a snow-white glove with her charm bracelet over it. Her legs had long white stockings which she wore long gray boots that reached up past her knees. Each boot had a small mask expressing a different emotion and covered her knees as if they were knee pads. The last and most mesmerizing detail was the gaseous monstrosity that stood behind her, it having a glowing mask with a mouth that moved.

(AN: Congrats again to @Bevvydraws for this amazing design and winning the contest)

“Lila… don’t move. We can fix this. We will get Ladybug and Chat noir here, then we can start to work with the school and…”

“Not this time. I have tried to handle things the civil way.” The akumatized Lila chuckled. “That was how Lila would handle things, with pretty words and half-baked apologies. You always assumed the best in people Miss Bustier, and that is why your students always got akumatized, because you couldn’t see how awful they all are, how awful everyone is!”

Lila had noticed her charm bracelet was glowing. It was telling her that Miss Bustier has been turned into an akuma. But that wasn’t all, it was if she could even read their darkest thoughts as it did. She was looking under the mask that was Caline Bustier.

‘Interesting’ Lila mused to herself.

“You don’t truly believe that. The akuma is warping your perception. I know you are hurting, but you can fight it Lila. You are….”

“I can see it now. You do actually care for your students, but you hate how despite your best efforts, you can’t control them to be the vision of them you see. Chloé is the biggest failure to you.”

“What?! No! Chloé has been a bit slow in progressing but she is becoming a better person.”

“You hate how much influence she has in the school thanks to her father being the mayor. The staff has to remind you how carefully you have to tread when dealing with her. When she was going to leave for New York some time ago, you were as happy as everyone else and you hated yourself over it.”

Caline could feel her spirit breaking as she said that. She was right, she did hate that she felt happy about Chloé leaving, she did despise the amount of influence that student had. Sure she understood that she couldn’t control everything, but it felt so much worse when she felt she couldn’t do anything to help her students excel and be the best they can be.

A mask launched from Lila’s dress and hit Miss Bustier dead center. The teacher fell to the floor as her screams were muffled, trying to fight the mask that had launched itself onto her face. She tried to pull the mask off with her hands but it only seemed more stubborn to stay put.

“I am Masquerade, the one who will reveal the farce that is Paris, just like how I removed your mask.”

The teacher’s struggles began to lessen as the mask began taking control.

“This world is a stage where everyone acts to please others, to get what they want, to pretend to be happy. I am going to destroy all of that nonsense. You wore your mask so well that you forgot you even had one on. You were so easily fooled, but now your true self will come to the surface. The evil that lies in your heart has a new face. Now let’s see how this new mask fits you and how well it will serve me.”

The mask began to glow and in an instant, Miss Bustier had reverted into the paler, akumatized version of herself, Zombiezou. The only difference being the white mask that covered her face as opposed to the eye mask she wore in the past.

“Isn’t that Right Zombizou?”

“What is your bidding?” Zombizou inquired with an emotionless tone.

Masquerade smiled as she snapped her fingers. The masked monster behind her moved in front of her.

“Simulare! Shift and transform into Volpina!”

The gaseous masked creature began morphing into Lila’s first Akuma transformation, the faux Fox heroine, Volpina. The Sentimonster perfectly replicated the form.

A purple butterfly outline appeared over Masquerade’s face.

“Looks like you have quite the handle on your new powers” a sinister voice said with glee. “Now what do you have planned to deal with Ladybug and Chat noir.”

Masquerade smiled.

“Just you watch Hawkmoth, this will be one show you won’t want to miss.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

She cracked her knuckles and prepared her order.

“Now, Have Zombizou reprise her role as Miss Bustier, and help me look like my former self.

Simulare nodded and activated her powers, transforming the two to look like their former selves.

“Excellent work Simulare, now stay close by and maintain the illusion until we get back into the school”

“Come, we must return to the Principal.” a sinister smile on Lila’s face.

_______________________________________________________________________

There was a lot to talk about in Miss Bustier’s class. They had a lot of revelations thrown their way in a matter of minutes. Rose was Gushing to Mylene and Juleka about Marinette and Adrien dating, Max was busy helping Kim and Ivan process what happened with Lila. Alix and Nathaniel were discussing if Lila was the one trying to frame Marinette for that whole chair debacle with Chloé.

Marinette decided this was all too much and just moved to her seat to sit down. This was a lot to process. Lila had finally been exposed. Everyone knew the truth! She was also dating Adrien, and the class found out about that, it all felt so overwhelming.

She noticed someone sit beside her, her blond model boy who also had a similar expression on his face.

“I am guessing we are both feeling the same thing.” Marinette commented.

“A mixture of shock, relief, nervous and excited?” Adrien responded.

“That pretty much sums it up.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Marinette subconsciously touched his hand. They both interlocked their fingers as they let the events wash over them.

But the moment they were sharing was ended when Nino and Alya sat in the desks in front of them and turned around to face them

“I guess the date went well.” Alya rhetorically asked with a knowing smirk.

The two new love birds felt their faces heat up.

“No need to answer dude. We can read it from your faces.” Nino chimed in.

“We weren’t this bad when you two got together.” Adrien fired back.

“True, but we weren’t as bubbly and blushy as you two are right now.” Nino countered.

“Daww Mari, you look like a cherry.” Alya teased.

“Alright enough. We get it, we are adorable.” Marinette gestured to herself and Adrien. “I am curious on how you exposed Lila.”

Alya’s cutesy teasing smile shifted to her knowing smirk.

“Well if you must know, it all started with that recording you asked me to hold on to.”

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

Alya began to paint the scene with her take on everything that happened.

(Cue chalkboard illustration explaining Alya’s elaborate plan with her standing in front of it)

“After Curiosity got the better of me while I was home. I played the recording.”

Chalk Alya showing a shocked expression

“I was absolutely shocked to hear everything on there. If I didn’t hear it myself and it didn’t come from such a reliable source, I would swear it was a fake. But it was right here.”

Chalk Alya’s expression turned to rage as the recording kept going. The chalk caricature stomping on the ground and steam coming out of her ears

“I was furious! I had been blatantly lied to and the worst thing was that this Liar was hurting my best friend. I could not let it slide.”

“So, I ran to Nino’s place and showed him what was up”

Chalk Alya clearly steamed and now starting to explain to chalk Nino who is also mad. Chalk Nino listening with shock at this.

“We knew we couldn’t let that stand. But we did get briefly distracted with that whole crazy Knights thing. So that delayed us for a bit.”

Cue comedic bits of Nino and Alya hiding in a dumpster while knights walked past.

“After that whole situation had cleared up, we started doing some serious digging on Lila back at my place.”

“We talked with some of Lila’s old classmates, friends, school teachers, anyone we could find from the places and people she mentioned. We needed to make sure we got as much information about this girl as possible.”

illustration of Chalk Alya emailing different people of varying looks. All sending responses back.

“And we found out some more shady stuff about her, it was crazy. It was like we didn’t even scratch the surface of how bad this was.”

“But to really confirm some of the more outlandish stuff, we needed to reach out for help. So, we brought in Max.”

Chalk Alya and Nino heading to Max’s place where it shows him talking with Chalk Markov.

“We asked him to check a few things which he was a bit nervous about doing but we managed to convince him. The stuff we did find was a massive leap forward in our little investigation of Lila.”

Show Chalk max hacking and reveal shocking info. And then waking up sleeping Alya and Nino.

“After that, Nino and I decided to do a last bit of information gathering at school, just to make sure we had a strong enough case to ensure she could weasel her way around it.”

Chalk Alya and Nino tiptoeing through the halls trying to be stealthy. With little flashlights

“That was where we found the security camera footage.”

“And after all that was gathered, it was all about making sure everyone got the truth.

Show the class, the teachers, and all of the school getting the information about Lila.

(The chalk illustration ends and goes back to reality)

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

“And then you pretty much saw everything else that happened.” Alya finished

Adrien and Marinette processed the explanation.

“Wow, that is something. You guys really pulled out all the stops for it.” Adrien commented.

“Well my dudes, she was messing with our friends, we couldn’t just let her do that. You two both knew that she was sketchy. Now the school knows, and possibly all of Paris because of the Ladyblog.”

A chill goes down Marinette’s spine. The baker’s daughter had a disturbing realization. What if Lila did get akumatized?

__________________________________________________________________________

Mrs. Rossi sat down.

The principal did his best to try and ease the disheartened parent.

“There is more to that recording than what we listened to?” The mother of Lila questioned, her voice trying to stay steady.

“Another 40 minutes yes.”

“And it is just as bad as what we have just heard?”

“I haven’t listened to the entire recording, but based on everything I would say that it is a high possibility.”

“I… I can’t believe my daughter is the girl on this recording. There must be some sort of mistake.”

Mr. Damocles could see that the poor woman was on the brink of tears. She was doing her best to stay strong. She wanted to believe her daughter was not capable of the horrible things the documents and the recording were saying. He couldn’t imagine the amount of torment she was going through.

The older gentleman was no stranger to dealing out discipline to bad students, but this was the first time he had seen such a distraught mother over finding out the actions of her child. He couldn’t blame the woman for her feelings, Lila was indeed quite the charismatic actor. He and her teachers were easily charmed by her demeanor. One would not suspect any malicious intent from her in the slightest. It made the discovery all the more shocking and now, all the more heartbreaking.

“I need to talk with my daughter about all of this.”

“As would I Miss Rossi, we do try to give all our students a chance to explain themselves.”

Mostly because too many parents complain when we don’t do that and that is its own PR nightmare that Dupont does not need to deal with.

“I know that my daughter is a good girl. There must be a reasonable explanation.”

The door to the office opens.

The two adults turn to watch a much calmer Lila walk in with the red head teacher.

Miss bustier remains quiet and stands by the door. Her face was unreadable.

“Lila! There you are.” Miss Rossi got up from her chair, her worry apparent in her voice.

“There are a lot of accusations being thrown at you and I have no idea why. You need to tell them it isn’t true. Please tell them that this is all a huge mistake”

“It’s alright mamma.” Lila assures her mother. “I will take care of everything.”

Mrs. Rossi felt herself calm at her daughter’s assurance. She should have known not to get so worked up. She sat back down and watched as her daughter sauntered to the desk of the principal

“Everything that you have read and heard from those documents is accurate. I did do all of those terrible things. I am 100% at fault.”

Principal Damocles blinked at the statement.

“I’m sorry Lila, are you… confirming everything in here?”

“That’s right.”

“Mia stellina, please tell me this is a bad joke. A silly prank of sorts?”

“Nope, it’s all factual. I did do those things, I did threaten Marinette, I did fake those illnesses, I did skip school for a few weeks because I didn’t want to go. But you know what else is true, Mr.Damocles?”

The bracelet on Lila began to glow.

“What else is there?”

“You have been lying to yourself. Trying to act like an arbiter of right. You act like you are this no-nonsense principal that cares for the school and its students. But that isn’t true at all.”

“I beg your pardon! I do care about this school. That is why I have no choice but to…”

“I wasn’t done speaking.” Lila’s comment sent a shiver down the principal’s spine. Something was very wrong with Lila, and he couldn’t tell what.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes. The truth. The truth is that you dream of being a hero like the ones in your precious comic book. But you know you’re too old and pathetic to do any real hero work. You loved the idea of Ladybug and Chat noir, bringing those fantasies you had to reality only to slowly loathe them because they are young and can make the difference that you never could.”

Her words cut sharply into the bald principal. It was as if she knew the exact words to cut him down.

“But now that I broke through your pathetic façade, I have a new mask for you.”

Out of nowhere a mask seems to appear on Lila’s hand and she sent it flying onto the older man’s face, causing him to fall over. He struggles to try and get the mask off but the mask only seems to fighting harder to stay on.

The diplomat found herself paralyzed with shock at the situation. She was trying to process what was happening, but she couldn’t. Did her daughter just attack the principal?

Lila turned her attention to her mother. The mirage that was keeping her looking like her civilian self, faded away revealing her akumatized form.

“Now Mamma, you don’t need to worry. I have everything under control.”

“You… you aren’t my daughter.”

Masquerade took a moment before laughing darkly.

Suddenly from behind the desk stood the fallen Principal but his outfit had changed. His portly stature was now toned and muscular. His clothes were replaced with that of hero spandex. He had transformed into his former akumatized persona, Dark Owl.

“You act like you actually knew me. You know how much I love masks, yet you failed to realize I was always wearing one around you.”

Dark Owl went into his Utility belt and handed Masquerade a spray.

“Don’t worry Mamma, I won’t hurt you.”

Mrs.Rossi wanted to protest but her akumatized daughter used the spray she was given on her and felt everything fade to black.

“Put her somewhere safe. We move to the next phase.”

Dark Owl Nodded as he picked up the unconscious woman.

Masquerade’s expression softened as she looked at her mother.

“Trust me Mamma, once this is over, you will see how amazing your daughter truly is.”

The akumatized Villain cupped her earring.

“Simulare. Keep the mirage on Bustier, and have her move to the classroom once our two guests arrive.”

She smiled again as she noticed Dark Owl had finished putting her mother somewhere.

“Alright Dark Owl, I need you to make an announcement.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“Do you think Lila might get akumatized from this?” Marinette spoke aloud.

The three-other teens understood why Marinette was suddenly stiff.

“I am just going to put on the Ladyblog to be wary of a potential Akuma attack. Just to be safe. Maybe Ladybug and Chat noir will see it and take out the akuma before it gets to Lila” Alya started frantically typing.

Marinette stood up from her desk.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom. I need to…”

“Attention students!”

The voice from the loudspeaker caught everyone’s attention.

“Alya Cesaire and Marinette Dupain Cheng. Both of you will need to come to my office immediately.”

Alya and Marinette look at each other, something seemed very off about this announcement. Normally the loud speaker wasn’t used for such direct announcements. Normally just to announce the school lunches or events. Most of the time Principal Damocles would just go classroom to classroom to do it. It seemed odd that he would use it now.

Alya stood up.

“This probably has to do with Lila. I did use your recording. I guess they want to get both sides of the story.” Alya commented.

“Do you need me to tag along? I did help you with some of the evidence gathering.” Nino inquired, sort of worried for his girlfriend.

“No worries. I think I can handle it. Besides, he only called Mari and I down.”

Alya started moving to the classroom door.

“Come on girl, we have one last thing to take care of.”

Marinette got up from her desk nervously.

“Don’t worry Marinette, whatever happens, I have your back.” Adrien assured.

Marinette gives the boy a soft smile.

She gives him a super quick peck on the cheek before running to Alya at the door.

Adrien cups his cheek and smiles.

“Dude, you are so love sick.” Nino commented.

“You are even worse than me, so don’t even.” Adrien fired back.

“I ain't dissing, I am just saying welcome to the club.” Nino laughed.

Adrien chuckled a bit. He did like this feeling. But he still couldn’t help but worry, Lila was crafty. What if she was up to something?

“Hey, I am just gonna go check my locker, I think I left my science homework in there.” Adrien explained as he got up from the desk. He moved slightly and noticed his shoe hit something.

“What are these screws doing here?”

Adrien checked to make sure Marinette’s seat wasn’t loose and was relieved when it was sturdy.

“Oh that probably has to do with Chloé’s seat breaking. I’ll take em” Nino commented.

Adrien decided he would deal with that later. He figured it would likely be best to confirm that gut feeling he had.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Things are going better than I anticipated.” The silver masked villain exclaimed with glee.

“Masquerade has infiltrated that school which houses several of my previously made akuma. Ladybug and Chat noir will have to face an army by the time they realize what is happening.”

“Sir, you do remember your son is in that building. Is it wise for us to leave him in there?” The blue clad villainess commented.

“My son has never been akumatized, besides. Lila has no interest in hurting Adrien. Unlike the last akuma, there will be no personal stakes.” Hawkmoth assured.

“You do remember that she mentioned wanting revenge against Marinette and that Ladyblogger.”

“That is of little concern.”

“The first one being the girl that your son is in love with.”

Hawkmoth paused for a moment.

“That shouldn’t matter. Adrien will get over it once we have the miraculous and bring back …”

“So, you believe Adrien wont risk fighting the akuma to protect her.”

Hawkmoth’s assurance began to melt at the realization that his son did share a rather glaring flaw. The will to jump into danger without a single thought of self-preservation in order to save the one they love. That could be trouble.

“Nathalie, we may need to get involved.”

Nathalie had dropped her transformation.

“I will head to the school and get Adrien out of there.”

“Take his bodyguard and be quick about it. Masquerade will have that building overrun with akumatized servants shortly.”

Nathalie nodded, she did feel faint for a moment but fought through it. Now was not the time to get weak. Adrien needed to be taken to safety.

______________________________________________________________________

Marinette and Alya made it to the office where Miss Bustier was outside.

“Hey Miss Bustier, is everything alright?” Alya questioned, noticing the expressionless face of their usually peppier teacher.

The red headed teacher said nothing as she gestured to the door.

“Umm… okay.” Alya took the door knob in her hand and opened the door.

Marinette took a moment to study the teacher. Something was very wrong here. She watched as the teacher began to walk towards the classroom they had just come from. She could swear she saw something flicker.

“Come on Marinette.” Alya insisted. The French-Chinese teen decided it must have been her eyes playing tricks on her and went into the office.

They entered the office and noticed that Mr.Damocles’s chair was turned away from them.

“You wanted to see us Principal Damocles?” Alya spoke up.

“No, he didn’t.” A familiar voice from behind the chair spoke.

“Lila!” Marinette exclaimed.

“Well aren’t you a detective, though you are sadly incorrect. I was Lila.”

“Was? Wait… don’t tell me…” Alya began to figure it out.

The office chair turned to reveal the akumatized Lila smiling.

“It’s Masquerade now. I really must say Alya I am quite amazed by all the work you did.”

The two teens glared at the villainess as she stood from the chair.

“This was the first time in my life that I had been so thoroughly backed into a corner. I had no way of dismissing the evidence, I was at your mercy. Truly, I am impressed.”

Alya did not know how to react to Masquerade’s rather out of nowhere praise for busting her.

“You’re praising me?”

“The old me would have had a breakdown, probably end up on the ground crying in frustration, unable to get my way. I was without a doubt destroyed.”

Marinette and Alya looked at each other in confusion.

“Why are you telling us this?” Alya questioned.

“Because anywhere else, I would have just given in. I would have resigned myself to my despair. But we are in Paris, a place with an emotion manipulating super terrorist with the power to weaponize my negative emotions.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide. She understood what Lila was saying.

“You weaponized your emotions.”

The akumatized villain started to laugh.

“I am glad you understand the situation.” Masquerade snapped her fingers.

From the shadows emerged a familiar owl themed akuma, Dark Owl. The only new addition to his ensemble was the white mask that covered his face, making his emotions unreadable.

“Dark Owl, Restrain Marinette!”

Dark Owl went to grab Marinette, but the teen quickly jumped to avoid the akuma’s grasp.

“Don’t worry girl I got you!”

Alya went to grab the nearby chair to throw it at the akuma, but Masquerade quickly moved across the desk and grabbed Alya’s shoulders as the charm bracelet began to glow.

“Oh Alya, you value truth among everything else, yet you are so dishonest with yourself. You always love to throw yourself into your passions, not giving a damn on who gets involved or who gets hurt. You put your theories and ideas above everyone else’s because you are so sure that you are right even when you aren’t. You hate how vulnerable you are when you are wrong.”

“Let go! You don’t know me!” Alya shouted as she tried to escape Masquerade’s grip on her shoulder.

Marinette had avoided a tackle made by the owl themed akuma and left him head first into an office plant.

“Don’t listen to her Alya! She is trying to turn you into an akuma like what she did to Mr.Damocles!”

“You know I am speaking the truth, your little mask of confidence is meant to hide the insecurity of a middle child that wants validation and acceptance because they never truly felt like they had their own identity. You fight so hard for everything and fear that it will be for nothing. You hate being left out of the loop and have trouble accepting when things happen that you aren’t a part of.”

“Stop it!” Alya pleaded. She could feel this akuma Lila’s words cutting her deep. This couldn’t be the truth, right?

“I can see the secrets you try and hide. I am bringing it all to the surface. You also secretly feel that Nino going after you when he was originally after your best friend makes you feel like a rebound and you hate that you feel this way.”

That was the last cut Masquerade needed, the look of hurt in Alya’s eyes was the proof.

Masquerade took a mask from her dress and placed it on Alya. The Ladyblogger dropped to the floor and tried to fight the mask that covered her face.

“Alya!” Marinette cried out in horror.

Masquerade turned to Marinette with a devilish grin.

“I warned you Marinette. I would turn everyone against you if you messed with me. And I intend to keep that promise.”

_______________________________________________________________________

So Ends part 31.

Will Masquerade’s revenge go unabated?

Will Nathalie make it in time to get to Adrien?

Will Marinette be able to escape and bring an end to Lila’s Masquerade ball?

Will I stop asking questions?

Find out all of these things and more next part.

Please comment your thoughts on the chapter and reblog.

Its tough writing on Tumblr and seeing the support really does motivate me to keep going.

Also, as for the mass amounts of tagging. I honestly won't be doing it anymore due to the f*** ton of effort it takes only for some to not work.

#ml #ml fanfic #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #masquerade akuma #masquerade #akuma!lila #adrinette #djwifi #lovesquare #drama #miraculous fanficiton

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theshipsfirstmate · 3 years

Text

Black Widow Fic: No Time Left to Start Again

Post-BW, between the end and the post-credits. Yelena Belova faces life after The Snap.

No Time Left to Start Again (AO3 - wc: 4983)

She looks down to see her hands disintegrating -- fingers floating away like the wispy tufts of the dandelions that grew in their front yard in Ohio -- and Yelena thinks, Is this a cool way to die?

The question is still on her mind when she comes to, even though she’ll find out later that five years have passed since she started wondering.

She puts the pieces together as fast as she can, even though each one only makes the picture more grim. She learns she was lucky to be in the Widows’ safe house in Istanbul when it happened, even if the rancid smell of the rotted fridge makes her gag and there’s a hole in the ceiling and straight through the floor from a bathtub left running.

She learns that the best estimates say it was half of the population that floated away with her that day, and has now returned just as abruptly. The world wasn't ready for them to go, and it is even less prepared for them to return. Cities are plunged into chaos in an instant, governments and aid organizations just starting to steady themselves after half a decade of desolation get the rug pulled out from them once again.

She learns that her phone still works, even if internet service is shit, thanks to dwindling maintenance and overloaded servers. She learns that the Avengers are fighting a war for the fate of the universe (again), somewhere in upstate New York. And she learns, quickly, where she needs to go next.

“Малышка.”

Melina greets her at the gate with an unexpected softness -- so different than the last time -- and Yelena wonders if the woman has simply spent the last five years alone with her pigs, if they've felt any different than the twenty before. Then, Alexi steps out the door behind her, and she realizes that they have.

“So, neither of you…” Yelena starts to ask as they let her in, though she doesn't really have to. She can see the years on them both, and for a moment, she's a child with a family once again.

My mother is going grey at her temples. My father's glasses are thicker than they used to be.

They both have deeper crinkles at the corners of their eyes and Yelena finds herself hoping that it’s laughter that’s left them there.

“For five years we've been on our own,” Alexi answers, but he can't help himself a little smirk before he continues, “and moss grows fat on a rolling stone.”

He doesn't smell so bad this time, when he wraps her in a bear hug. Mercifully, he's shaved and taken to civilian clothes -- she decides to keep to herself how much she dislikes his new handlebar mustache.

“You did?” Melina guesses, and Yelena nods her agreement into Alexi’s chest before he relents and lets her go.

When she turns back to face the question, she finds herself on the receiving end of a look that feels equal parts discerning and maternal. That too, she remembers from her childhood.

“Are you alright?”

“I seem to be,” Yelena answers, gesturing down to her hands, tangible once more. There won't be an answer that satisfies the woman scientifically, she’ll have to be proof enough. “I don't remember any of it.”

What she truly doesn't expect from Melina is a hug, and it's even more surprising when it’s fiercer and longer than Alexi’s. A beat too long, Yelena realizes slowly. Alexi turns away when she tries to meet his eye, and her stomach turns over with dread.

Something else has happened. Something she doesn't know yet. Something worse.

“The report came over my comms just an hour or so before you got here,” Melina says softly, an arm reaching up to stroke the back of Yelena’s head, just like she did when she was a toddler. “It's over. The Avengers have won.”

There's the sound of splintering wood and both women step back sharply, turning to see Alexi clutching a handful of splinters that used to be the back of a dining room chair. He drops them to the ground and strides back out the door, pointedly not looking at either of them, and Yelena tastes bile in the back of her mouth.

“What else?” She tries and fails to stop herself from asking the question. It comes out on a choked kind of half-breath.

“Tony Stark is dead.” Melina answers, dropping her eyes, an uncharacteristic waver in her voice. “And it's been... harder to confirm, but we are almost certain that Natasha is too.”

In the Red Room, after the treatments, there would be a buzzing in your ears for days, like static from an old radio. Widows in training were known to be disciplined after missing commands, and would do their best to shake it off as quickly as possible, but Yelena sometimes welcomed the fuzzy silences, the chance to try and focus inward, no matter how painful.

This is nothing like that.

This is a heartbreak in a cry, a desperate, wailing sound that builds and builds, cutting through the quiet isolation of the farm compound like a knife. It's only when it gets muffled by Melina wrapping her up in her arms once more, that Yelena realizes she's the one making it.

“Малышка,” her mother whispers again -- my baby -- and Yelena can’t tell if it’s meant for her or not.

They sit around the table again that night, but dinner consists only of vodka and memories and they all try -- and fail -- not to notice the empty chair closest to the windows, the one with the broken back.

“Oh, I hated that blue hair!” Melina admits with a watery chuckle, paging through the photo album when their second bottle is nearly gone. “But she was so good at getting what she wanted.”

“You know, I begged her to dye mine too,” Yelena shares, recalling a long-forgotten memory that means something completely different now. “She said no, that she wouldn't let me be spoiled.”

Alexi interrupts the reverie before she goes too deep, laughter overtaking him as he pokes at Melina’s arm. “I remember the night she did it. You came to bed and you were so fed up, you cried! She made you cry!”

“And I punched you for laughing at me, do you remember that too?” Melina fires back, swatting his hand away.

When she was old enough to realize what had happened to her as a child, Yelena remembers scouring her memories for real moments, signs of genuine affection between the family she hadn’t known enough to question. It was difficult then, to believe any of it had been real. But sometimes now, it's not so hard.

“The only reason I was glad we left when we did, was because I knew I could never have handled her as a teenager,” Melina muses then, but there's little humor left in her voice. Yelena wonders if her face darkens in the same way as her mother’s when they think of that day on the airstrip.

It's quiet for a long moment, but Alexi never stops looking at Melina. Yelena's head is heavy from liquor and tears and she rests it on folded arms as she watches them. (Sometimes, it's not so hard to believe.)

“You didn't want to go,” her father says, low and mournful. “I should have listened.”

“You followed the orders,” her mother answers. “What was the alternative? They would have killed us and taken the girls back if we had made even one misstep.”

None of them had a way out, Yelena thinks, they never had. A super soldier and a Widow, weapons both, with daughters destined to follow in their footsteps. Maybe that's still true. Maybe there is no peace when all you've ever known is war.

But they'd had each other.

“It was real,” she murmurs, as her eyes drift closed. “Natasha said it was real.”

-----

A public memorial for Tony Stark is held on the National Mall. Steve Rogers is consecrated at the Smithsonian, again. But no one seems to know quite what to do about Natasha Romanov. The Black Widow, the female Avenger, the Russian-born assassin, only claimed by America, it seemed, when they wanted to accuse her of treason.

Still, Yelena flies to Washington DC, half-curious and half-desperate to burn off the fog she’s been wandering around in since Melina’s suspicions had been confirmed.

Captain America, the new one, had announced the events on a world-wide broadcast -- making a point to mention Natasha by name, Yelena had noticed -- and so she heads to the museum first, though she's not entirely sure what she hopes to learn. The Avengers have saved the world several times over, but those conflicts are usually reduced to heroic platitudes when it comes to the public, and she expects this to be no different.

She's mostly right, but the exhibit is worth it for a few glimpses of Natasha fighting alongside the Captain, scattered throughout the pictures and video of the Avengers’ years together. That's how she finds herself in a darkened theater, watching a compilation of newsreel footage, broadcasts and shaky cell phone shots, the valiant timeline of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

She feels him sit down beside her, catches the glint of metal in the sleeve of his leather jacket before she can even clock his face. Her nerves are instinctively on edge, but if he came for combat, they’d already be in it, so she stays still and quiet, waiting to follow his lead.

“ты сестра?” he asks softly. You're the sister?

Yelena turns to face him, the question and answer on her lips. But the Winter Soldier speaks again before she does.

“She showed me the pictures once. From when you were kids.”

Yelena couldn't count them if she tried, the nights she spent in the Red Room, rubbing a finger along the torn seam of her photo strip, willing the thought that Natasha was out there somewhere, holding the other half, to be enough to comfort her enough to sleep.

She turns away before he can see the tears in her eyes, but it’s no use -- they’re there in her throat when she speaks.

“They didn't even know her.” She nods back to the crowded museum and hopes he can grasp her meaning. There’s no way Natasha can be properly memorialized by government officials, who knew her as little more than a recon file, or the adoring public, who only thought of her when the world was ending.

“She liked it that way.” He means it as a comfort, but still, it makes Yelena flinch.

He notices, and she knows he understands when he tries again. “They were never gonna do her justice.”

The world never would, never could, Yelena thinks. A spy. A sister. A survivor. A lost girl, who fought her whole life for the kind of peace she’d never allow herself. These are not the people who get parades in their honor, holidays in their name.

“I will,” she says, and the stubborn tears win their battle, spilling down her cheeks. “I will do her justice.”

The Winter Soldier nods, with as much of a smile as he seems to allow himself. “I hope you will.”

Then he's gone, back the way he came, and Yelena thinks it's time to leave this city, with its buttoned-up bureaucracy and privatized secrets.

She doesn't care much about the Stark memorial, but skirts around the periphery on her way back to the airfield, catching a glimpse of the enormous photos and expensive-looking displays.

Natasha’s in these too, off to the side or just out of focus. It's starting to wear on her, the way these people seem to barely even notice the Black Widow, how quick they are to disregard one of their greatest heroes because she didn't fly or transform or wield some mystical weapon.

Shouldn’t that have made her even more impressive?

She's standing in front of a tribute to the Battle of New York just beside the bridge, weighing that unanswerable question, hands clenched unconsciously to fists, when Valentina finds her.

“I've been looking for you.” It sounds more like a taunt. I found you.

Yelena scoffs. “Probably a bad idea, if you know anything about me.”

“Oh, babe, believe me. I know plenty,” the woman answers, offering up that ridiculous name, a business card and a tone that's too familiar for Yelena's liking.

She's not to be trusted. That would be clear even to the Red Room’s youngest and most naive recruit. But it's this gleeful performance of espionage, or maybe villainy, that keeps Yelena from writing her off entirely. From the outfit to the attitude, she's either insane or untouchable. Or both.

And then: “So I have some… let's call it interesting information about your sister.”

Yelena clenches her fists tighter, digging her fingernails into her palm. “I don't believe you.”

Valentina seems to anticipate this, and is already reaching into her bag at the answer. She pulls out a thin, soft-bound book, printed with colorful block lettering: Parkside Elementary School, ‘95-’96.

Instantly, Yelena feels like someone's tightening a vice around her ribcage. “No.”

The woman shrugs, with that haughty grin she's already starting to loathe. “See for yourself.”

She flips it open, turning only a few pages to find the first grade classes, and there she is. Six years old. An innocent smile on her face and a fake last name beneath her picture. Orange juice spots on the collar of her shirt -- Melina had scolded her when they brought the photos home.

“How did you get this?” Even if it's a fake, it was done by someone who knows far too much.

“Well, you don't trust me, so I won't bother telling you,” Valentina snaps, taking the book back before she can look for Natasha. “Let’s call it proof that I know a lot of people who have been keeping a lot of secrets.”

Yelena tries to look unimpressed, dropping her shaking hands to her sides when she realizes they're giving her away. “You and me both.”

“Ha! No kidding,” Valentina replies. It's not actually a laugh. “That's exactly why we're gonna work so well together.”

Maybe it's the grief clouding her judgement or residual conditioning left over in her frontal lobe. Maybe it's the unspoken threat to the rest of her family. Or maybe she was just born for this -- a soldier like her father, an assassin like her mother. Whatever it is, Yelena can feel herself agreeing to Valentina’s “offer” before she's even made it explicit.

“We'll start you out small,” the woman assures, but she knows better than to be comforted. “How do you feel about some light arson? There’s some documents and hard drives at a warehouse in Bethesda that need disappearing.”

“Fine,” Yelena answers, ears already buzzing, as a small voice in her head sings along. Fire is the devil's only friend.

-----

When the money from her first job comes in, she buys an old Chevy C/K and drives to Akron, with a useless hope to disappear again. She's lucky enough to find a modest apartment with a kind neighbor who's always happy to dogsit, which becomes a blessing -- Valentina’s demands only increase as the corners of her fake smile tighten.

But it's enough. Enough that when Yelena thinks about home, she can once again think of Ohio.

Not long after, Alexi and Melina keep a promise she’d asked them to make, and return for a few days. She picks them up at the airfield, and drives to the spot she and Fanny found on one of their long walks together -- under the trees that are just starting to blossom with pink flowers.

Alexi lifts the heavy gravestone from the back of the truck and places it at the end of a row, under a tree, where the ground can't be dug up anyway.

“Toughest girls in the world,” Yelena hears him murmur as he runs his hand over the inscription.

Melina hasn't spoken much since they landed. Yelena thought at first that she didn't want to come back, but when she closes her eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath as they stand facing the grave marker, she understands that it isn't that at all.

“Big girl,” her mother begins with an uncharacteristic, watery softness, and Yelena is transported back to another lifetime once again. “I’m so sorry...”

There might be more to say, but the long, mournful silence is broken by the sound of another car pulling up. All three of them go on alert, until Yelena spots a familiar flash of metal from the driver's side.

“не волнуйся,” she says, still stepping defensively in front of her mother. “It’s OK.”

The Winter Soldier -- Sergeant Barnes, she reminds herself -- parks and exits quickly, moving to the rear of the car to help an elderly man step out and straighten himself.

He isn't what Yelena expected, but once he's at full posture, it's impossible not to recognize him. He's the man from the news, the internet, all the posters — give or take a few decades.

“Captain America.” Under normal circumstances, she might chuckle at Alexi’s awed whisper.

“Forgive us for interrupting,” the Captain says by way of a greeting. He sounds like him, too, so it must be true. “And, in advance, for not explaining. I just… I thought both of her families should be here.”

“If that's OK,” Barnes adds with a look, first at Captain Rogers, then back at the family.

Yelena nods her acceptance, but feels her heart sink a little when Melina turns back silently to face the gravestone. Only Alexi steps forward, extending his arm, first to the captain, then to his comrade.

“Alexi Shostakov,” he offers. “You probably don’t…”

“The Red Guardian,” Captain Rogers interrupts, and Yelena tries not to let her eyes go wide as they shake hands proudly. “The Soviet super soldier. Of course I know who you are.”

Alexi puffs his chest up for just a moment, and gives himself a pleased nod, before returning to Melina’s side. It's proof of his grief, Yelena thinks, that that's the end of it.

Then it's her turn. “You must be Yelena.”

“Captain.” She nods once and then twice, looking past him. “Sergeant.”

“Buck mentioned you two had run into each other in Washington,” the older man says with a well-worn, knowing smile.

“I would say we're glad to have you,” she offers as a reply, “but now I'm mostly worried that I'm not covering my tracks as well as I should.”

“Don't worry about that,” Captain Rogers replies, with a shake of his head. “I had to call in multiple favors to find you. Big ones, too.”

“Well then,” she sighs, “I guess I should say I'm sorry you went through all that trouble.”

Another small smile, and then the captain steps closer, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially. It strikes her that, while he's likely still one of the most powerful men in the universe, there's nothing about him that feels threatening to her.

“I don't know if you've noticed,” he tells her, “but I'm getting up there in years. Why don't you save us both a lot of time from now on, and only bother saying what you mean.”

He means it as a kindness, Yelena can tell, but there's only one question she wants to ask, and it's screaming in her mind like a klaxon horn.

“Will you...” she begins, stopping to swallow when her throat turns to sandpaper. “Will you tell us what happened?”

“Yelena,” Melina says sharply, and she almost takes it back. But she knows the curiosity will eat her from the inside out if she doesn't take the chance now, when it's literally right in front of her.

“No, I want to know,” she tells her mother before turning back and steeling herself once again. “I want the truth.”

Captain Rogers purses his lips and tilts his head, like he's seeing something different in her now.

“You really are her sister, aren't you?” he muses.

She scoffs, almost reflexively. “There's no family resemblance, if that's what you mean.”

“Isn't there?” She hears Alexi chuckle softly behind her and makes a mental note to elbow him in the ribs later. One super soldier at a time.

“Please,” she asks again, and the twinkle leaves Captain Rogers' eye as he nods solemnly.

“Natasha sacrificed herself to retrieve the last of the Infinity Stones.” Yelena only understands part of that sentence, and she's not sure if it's the important part.

“The stones were the key to bringing everyone back, to defeating Thanos once and for all,” he explains. “We made a plan, as a team. We each had our assignments, but we didn't know the cost.”

The cost, it's evident now, had been Natasha, and it grates again at Yelena that all the other Avengers had returned from this mission for their final battle, while her sister’s sacrifice had merely been part of the unknowable set up.

But Captain Rogers continues, and she finds consolation in the fact that at least he doesn't take Natasha's death lightly, not in the slightest.

“I went back, after,” he reveals, sounding close to tears. “I tried-- I tried like hell to get her back. I never should have let her go.”

“You wouldn't have been able to stop her.” Melina’s voice comes out of nowhere; even she seems surprised to have spoken. But they all nod at the truth.

“Clint said he-- she wouldn't let him go in her place,” Rogers adds. He’s turning something over in his hands, but when Yelena looks closer, it seems to be just a simple pack of bubble gum. “She was just too…”

His eyes, cast towards the sky, return to their group, and he speaks first to Alexi, and then to Melina. Yelena reaches out for her mother's hand, and it's taken with a fierce squeeze.

“I'm not sure I ever really understood her until now,” the Captain says. “I thought her strength, her heart, who she was, was in spite of what she'd been through. But I know now, it was because of it.”

Yelena’s eyes have blurred with tears, but she can see him turn to her next. “We fought that war for her,” he adds. “And I think she fought it for you.”

It's the eulogy Natasha deserves, the one none of them could have hoped to give, and it feels both fitting and unfathomable that it comes from Captain America, of all people.

They sit in it for a moment, each thinking of Natasha in their own way, until the silence is broken by two people speaking in unison -- perhaps the two that understood her best.

“She would have hated this,” Yelena mumbles, only realizing after a moment that Barnes had said the same thing.

A reserved chuckle rumbles through the five of them, and then a deep, forgiving breath. It’s time to go.

But Yelena drops Melina’s hand as the rest of them turn back for the road, suddenly unable to move. She can’t pull her eyes away from the grave, stuck staring at a legacy that makes her feel six years old again, a metaphorical pair of shoes she'll never be able to fill.

When she doesn't hear either car start, she expects maybe Captain Rogers or Alexi, but surprisingly, it's Barnes who returns to her side.

“I haven't… I didn't make a speech or anything,” she admits, gesturing at the stone with her sister’s name and titles, and willing him, once again, to understand the feelings she can’t put into words. “I don't know what to say to her.”

He's quiet for a moment, and when he speaks it's lower than she’s expecting, like he’s drawing the words from somewhere deep. “Nat never shared much with us,” he tells her. “I understood that. It's hard to talk about memories you don't think you deserve to miss.”

Yelena knows she’s felt that too, that kind of arrested nostalgia. And she’s seen it in the Widows she recovered before the snap. It's not a surprise that the Winter Soldier could understand it as well -- what it’s like to be freed from a prison in your own mind, but constantly aware of how easily that door could slam closed on you once again.

“She wouldn't care what you say here,” he continues. “She would care what you do out there.”

Suddenly, Yelena wonders if his heightened senses include a bullshit detector, if he can somehow see the marionette strings Valentina has looped around her conscience.

“I might have lied to you when we met,” she admits, telling him as much of the truth as she can muster. “I'm not sure I know how to do her justice.”

“I think you do,” he answers. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it takes a while.”

She turns to face him, and he’s staring at the gravestone like he can see something more than the paltry words they had paid someone to carve in Natasha’s memory.

“Nat was haunted by the red in her ledger, but she also thought it was what made her a good Avenger. She thought it made her fearless, unbreakable.” Yelena looks down and watches the metal of Barnes’ bionic hand curl into a fist, and then release. “But I'll take a wild guess that she was fearless before that, wasn't she?”

Through the years of mind control and conditioning, Yelena has never forgotten the feeling of Natasha’s arm wrapped around her back on that airstrip in Cuba, screaming and threatening men twice her size to try and keep them both safe.

“You may not know what to do now. You might feel like the things you've done, or the things you want to do, have set your future in stone,” Barnes continues, cutting through the haze of her memories.

“But there's gonna be a moment, maybe in the future, maybe soon, when you're faced with a choice. And in that moment, if you choose to be the person she thought you could be, that'll do her justice.”

Yelena looks up and Barnes’ eyes are there to meet now. Whatever he knows, it’s enough.

“Thank you for coming,” she tells him. “Truly. And thank you for bringing the Captain.”

“Couldn't keep him away,” the man admits, with his little half-smile. “The two of them...I think that was as close as they let themselves get to anybody. I know he’ll always blame himself, but I hope this helped.”

Yelena nods her goodbye, thinking idly, mournfully, about the way Natasha never gave any thought to her future -- wondering if that’s something she and her teammates had shared. But as Barnes returns to his car, the back window rolls down and Captain Rogers flags her down with something dark and folded in his hand.

“I found this with her things on the quinjet,” he says as she approaches the window, and her throat is tightening with new tears before he can finish, before she can even reach out to touch the familiar fabric. “Thought maybe you might want it. It’s pretty nice, it’s got a lot of pockets.”

-----

When she returns Melina and Alexi to the airfield a few days later, it's the most Yelena has felt like a real person in a long time, maybe the whole of her adult life.

“You’ll come to visit, yes?” Alexi asks, but his raised eyebrow tells her it's more of an order than a request.

“I will.”

“Come for Christmas!” he booms as he climbs out of the truck. “I will tell Santa Claus where to find you.”

Melina doesn't follow him out the passenger door right away, turning back to face her and looking for all the world like a typical worrisome mother.

“Yelena…”

“мама, I'll be fine,” she promises, trying not to hear how hollow it sounds.

“I know you will. But please, watch out for yourself.” Yelena’s stomach knots at the memory of Melina telling Natasha the very same. That was the last time they were all together, she recalls. It always will be.

“And if you need us,” Melina adds, “just come home, where it’s safe. OK?”

It's something about the way she says it that steals Yelena's planned reply from her lips. She doesn't want to lie, not now.

So she ducks forward, pressing her head against her mother’s and willing them both a little bit of peace.

“You are the best of us. Strong like your father, smart like your mama,” Melina whispers. “And like Natasha, through everything, you’ve kept your heart.”

Yelena pulls back then, swiping at her eyes, unable to stop herself from asking. “You don’t think that’s a weakness?”

“Maybe, at one time,” Melina admits. “But now, I think it’s lucky. Because now, you have a place to carry her.”

She can do that, at least, Yelena promises herself, reaching down to tug instinctively at the hem of her vest. Natasha died for them, and so she can live for her. She can do her justice.

“Stay safe, Малышка,” Melina says again, kissing her on the cheek before climbing out and following Alexi towards the runway. They two of them turn back to wave before boarding their jet, and Yelena’s heart knocks in her chest to remind her. That’s my family.

She puts the truck in gear and is pulling out to the main road, brushing away a few stray tears, when she notices it. A cassette, half-ejected from her ancient tape deck, with a Post-it stuck to the end.

She peels off the note and grins at the mismatched handwriting -- “Love, Mom. And Dad,” both in Cyrillic -- before pressing the tape in and starting to sing along.

“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…”

#first mate fic #black widow fic #yelena belova #yelena belova fic #black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #romanogers (if you squint)#post-bw

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

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Inukag angst w/happy ending

Two weeks after the accident, Inuyasha received a phone call from his ex to check on him. She’d just heard about the accident and wanted to make sure he was okay. He knew he’d sworn to cut off all contact, but in his grief, Inuyasha latched onto any form of comfort he could and agreed to meet the woman for lunch one last time. Miroku tried to advise against it, only backing down when Inuyasha swore he would cut off all ties after this last meeting. It was just lunch, what could it hurt? It was only fair of him to cut the woman off face to face instead of cowardly through a phone call.

It was a little awkward, he couldn’t lie. But the lunch had been progressing well in a platonic way. Inuyasha was careful not to do anything that might lead the woman on... at least that’s what he believed because to him they really were just friends. They’d dated through high school, but when they graduated, Kikyo decided she wanted to pursue college away from their hometown, and that a long distance relationship rarely worked in her eyes. Inuyasha hadn’t been happy about it at the time, but life went on. He went to the local college and started working for his father’s company when his coworker Miroku introduced him to his then girlfriend Sango’s best friend and the rest as they say, was history.

By the time Kikyo returned, Inuyasha was absolutely smitten with his new girlfriend Kagome. He’d let his anger about his ex go and agreed to remain friends. What did it matter to him anyways since he was happily in love. Inuyasha could never have realized that just five years later that choice would cause his whole world to come crashing down.

“Oh, Inuyasha,” Kikyo reached over the table and took his hand. “I’m sorry this happened.”

He hung his head and ears drooped. “I just keep thinking about how I could’ve prevented all of this.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Kagome chose to act childish and emotional, that’s not your fault.”

Inuyasha pulled his hand away and eyes narrowed at the woman. Did he just hear her right?! “She was upset, with every right to be since I was being stupid. That doesn’t make her childish.”

“Inuyasha please,” the woman rolled her eyes. “Kagome doesn’t deserve your protection. Weak people like her aren’t worth stressing over.”

It was an instantaneous lightning bolt strike to Inuyasha’s head. He knew Kikyo could be harsh, but throughout the entire time he was with Kagome, the woman never talked so lowly of his girlfriend. Yet now that Kagome wasn’t around to defend herself, Kikyo’s true colors were blatantly shining through. Inuyasha immediately pushed away from the table and stood up. “All this time,” the deep growl evident in his tone, “I thought Kagome was just being ridiculous in her accusations, but you’ve just shown me she was telling the truth all along.” He glared at his ex, his eyes turning red in anger. “I’m such an idiot for defending you! It’s because of you we fought that night and now she’s still paying the price! I’m done Kikyo.” He gritted out. “Don’t you ever contact me again or so help me I will make you pay for your part in this!”

“Inuyasha!” She called after his fleeing form. “Inu don’t do this! I still love you!”

But he was done. He stopped cold to address Kikyo one last time. “No, you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t try to hurt me, but all you’ve done is hurt me. It’s over!”

Ugh! How he wanted to tear something apart! Inuyasha got into his car and gripped to the steering wheel of his car so tightly his knuckles were blanched white. “Fucking bitch!” He roared as he gunned it out of the parking lot towards... towards... “FUCK!!!!” Where? He hated being in his empty house and the guilt tearing him up inside at that moment, it just wouldn’t be right to go to the hospital. Miroku was bound to give him the I told you so speech and while deserving, really wasn’t what he needed or wanted to hear.

There was only one place he could think to run to.

He knocked at the family’s door with his head hung unable to look the woman in the eyes.

“Inuyasha?”

“Momma Higurashi, can I come in?”

“Of course,” she moved aside and gestured for him to enter. Once he dropped onto the living room couch, she sat beside him with a hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re gonna hate me—”

“I don’t think that’s possible, so just tell me everything.”

If his head could sink lower it would at the words unloading like a waterfall after a storm as he recounted the twisted triangle, he now knew was real. Kagome had been so right all along about Kikyo, but the woman’s devious and manipulative nature tricked him into believing it was just in the rival’s head. All this time Inuyasha thought Kagome was acting like the jealous one, and in the end, it was his ex all along. How is he supposed to fix this?

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hate me for what I’ve done to your daughter, but I just couldn’t go home...” Tear pool in his eyes ready to burst just thinking about how empty he felt in that moment. “I can’t stand being in our home without her there, it hurts too fucking much.”

“Inuyasha, I don’t hate you. Am I upset, yes, but there’s no hate in me. I can see that you understand now along with the pain you’re going through, and that encourages me to forgive you.” Mrs. Higurashi cradled his face and brought it up so she could look into his eyes. “How could I hate the man who loves my daughter so much that he’s willing to bear his soul to their mother like this? I couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law.”

“But look at how much pain I’ve caused, how can you be so nice to me?”

“Because Kagome wouldn’t want me to hold this against you.”

With that, Inuyasha lost his remaining composure and sobbed even harder, letting the motherly figure simply hold him tight and stroke his back while he processed her words. She was right, Kagome’s heart was the purest he’d ever encountered who would look past the flaws and hold onto the positives. She wanted him for him, and if a person were deserving, fought to show them they are worth so much more. That’s probably why it took so many years for Kagome to leave that night. She’d always held out hope that Inuyasha would see the truth.

As Mrs. Higurashi soothed the despairing Hanyo, she spoke. “I know how hard this is Inuyasha, but Kagome’s body is healing and getting better every day. When she wakes up, she’ll need our love and support more than ever to get her through this.”

“I know...” he rumbled into the woman’s shoulder. “It’s just so scary to think, she won’t even know who I am.”

“And that’s why it’s so important for you to stay strong and help her remember, to show her the man she’d fallen in love with is still there for her.”

“You’re right… do you think she will… love me again?”

“I think so.”

The woman’s words seemed to satisfy Inuyasha for the time being. If Kagome woke up not remembering him it’ll hurt, deeply, but that just meant he’ll need to try even harder to win back her heart— and damn it! It was a challenge Inuyasha was not willing to lose. He couldn’t lose this fight or the road it might lead him down was... not something he ever wanted to think about. This time around he had the advantage of knowing all the things that make her happy, so he’ll put it all to good use. And if at some point Kagome regains her lost memories, hopefully the fact he remembered and did such things gave her the strength to forgive him.

Inuyasha released a grounding exhale. Now that he had a pseudo plan, a tiny weight felt lifted from his shoulders. But one remained. He pulled away from Momma Higurashi as he wiped away the drying tears from his cheeks. “Could I ask for one more favor?”

“Sure, dear.”

“I don’t wanna go home tonight. It’s too lonely.”

“Oh,” she smiled gently. “You’re welcome to use Kagome’s old room. Maybe it’ll bring you a small measure of comfort.”

Whether or not it would, it was better than a cold and empty house. “Thank you.”

And it did help to some degree. Kagome’s lingering scent in the room was both a comfort and a curse. It reminded him of her absence, yet the familiarity was soothing enough to relax him, to remind him of her presence and the importance of staying true to his choices. So, as he lay there that night staring up at her ceiling, Inuyasha allowed the happier memories to come back. Of nights when they first started dating, or times he’d snuck into this very room to watch her sleep. In those early days, he’d been much more brash and walled off to her advances— yes, her advances. He had still been in pain from the break-up with Kikyo when they’d met, but Kagome’s gentle pushing and prodding eventually morphed into something more. She was a shoulder to cry on, and the strength he needed to mend a broken heart. Even the anger he once felt about losing his mother at a young age had haunted him, and it was Kagome who helped those wounds to heal. He really owed the woman a lot, and now it was his turn to return the favor.

#inukag #inukag au #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inuyasha x kagome #angst w/happy ending #ch 3 #missing memories #petri808

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dettiot · 4 years

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Fic: late-night interruption 9/11

late-night interruption Author: dettiot Rating: G Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic. Note: There's only two more chapters to go after this one! I'm really excited about sharing the conclusion to this fic, and I really appreciate everyone who have let me know they're enjoying the story. Also, I love how I explained Satine's survival after Maul stabbed her with the Darksaber, so even though I'm sure it makes no sense--after all, it's Star Wars. Nothing makes sense. :-)

Also on AO3!

XXX

As he gently rocked Luke in his arms, watching Ahsoka make faces and smile at Leia, Anakin Skywalker felt at peace for perhaps the first time in his life.

Before this moment, the closest he had come to this feeling was in his earliest days. When he was with his mother, wrapped in her love and care. But growing up on Tatooine as a slave, bothered by strange impulses and advanced reflexes, his fear and worry had worked against his mother’s calm, centering presence.

Then came the years of training, butting heads with Obi-Wan while seeking his approval, the whirlwind of his romance with Padmé, the start of the war, the secrets and hiding . . . there had been no peace.

Not until now, when he had broken the Jedi Code beyond redemption and the Chancellor, the man he considered a mentor, might be the true source of all the galaxy’s problems . . . now, he felt the serenity he had always been searching for.

And then Leia opened her mouth and yowled, followed by Luke a moment later.

“What did I do?!?” Ahsoka yelped, holding Leia away from her body. Leia’s face was red and her fists were balled up as she cried.

Chuckling softly, Anakin rocked Luke as he lifted Leia up and held her close to him, so she could cuddle up against both him and Luke. Within a moment, Leia settled down and her brother did the same. “Nothing, Snips. She’s a baby, sometimes she’s just gonna cry.”

“Now I wish I had spent more time in the crèche,” Ahsoka said with a sheepish smile. She tilted her head to look at him. “I know you spent even less time there than I did--how are you so good at this?”

Anakin shrugged a little. “Don’t know. It just . . . I feel like I know what to do.”

“You always had good instincts with kids,” Ahsoka said.

“Thanks,” Anakin said. “If it wasn’t for the Force, I’m sure I’d be useless.”

“I doubt that, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said softly.

That made him look at Ahsoka, really taking her in. She had gotten taller, and her montrals were longer, with more defined patterns there and on her face. But the physical was only part of how she had changed. She seemed . . . more guarded. Less open. She held herself differently and didn’t react like Anakin expected.

It made him want to go straight to the Jedi Council and ask them if they realized what they had done, how they had discarded Ahsoka like a broken blaster instead of treating her like a person, a member of the Order . . .

But--but that wouldn’t change the past. Even if it would make Anakin feel better.

He drew in a deep breath. Ahsoka had left the Order because she hadn’t felt like she belonged. Perhaps that might change in the future. He hoped it would. Even if he was expelled from the Order, he hoped Ahsoka would find her way back to being a Jedi one day.

And even if she never did, he knew Ahsoka would always do what was right. She would always help people.

“Ahsoka, I hope you know that--no matter what, I care about you,” he said, stumbling a little over his words. “You--you’re like what I imagine having a sister is like, and--just because you’re not part of the Order--I mean . . . even if you don’t ever come back, my feelings won’t ever change.”

A warm smile lit up Ahsoka’s face. Something more mature than her old cheeky grin, but no less joyful. “Thank you, Anakin.”

“I mean it,” he said, rocking the twins a little. “You’re part of my family. Just like Obi-Wan is, which is the only way I was able to get him to be here when the twins were born.”

“I know you mean it,” Ahsoka said, looking up at him--but not as much as she used to. “I can feel it. And I meant it when I said thank you. It . . . it makes a difference, knowing that . . . that I’m not alone in the galaxy.”

“Not as long as I’m around,” Anakin promised. “And I bet the kids will feel the same way about you. You’ll be the cool aunt who tells them all the cool things she does.”

Ahsoka let out a soft laugh. “And Obi-Wan will be the cool uncle?”

“I don’t know about that . . .” Anakin said with a grin. “Although he does have a bunch of stories about me being an idiot, so I suppose that could hold a bit of appeal for the twins someday.”

That made Ahsoka laugh harder, only to bite it off when Luke made a little snuffling noise. “Oh, sorry!” Ahsoka whispered.

“It’s okay, Snips. Here, hold Luke--he likes everyone, it seems,” he said, handing Luke over to her.

She looked down at Luke, rubbing his back a little. “His eyes look just like yours, Anakin.”

“Yeah, Padmé and I were talking about how much each of them look like us. Leia’s gonna be just as pretty as her mother, aren’t you, my little love?” he cooed to Leia. She blinked her brown eyes at him, then patted her little hand against his chest.

“That’s right,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “Pretty like Padmé and stubborn like me. It’s a good thing Uncle Obi-Wan has so much experience with stubborn Skywalkers, since he’s gonna train you someday, isn’t that so?”

“Oh, Force.”

Anakin blinked and looked at Ahsoka, who was staring at Luke. “Ahsoka?” Anakin asked. “What is it?”

“I . . . I think Luke has connected to me?” she said, sounding confused. “It--it feels a bit like my bond with you.”

Stretching out, Anakin used his feelings to explore his son’s. His discovery made him beam. “Uh-oh. Looks like Luke knows who he wants to train him.”

Ahsoka stared at him. “Anakin!”

“Hey, it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen,” Anakin said, trying to reassure her. “Look at your bond with Master Plo.”

“That felt different from this,” Ahsoka said, looking back down at Luke, her face softening--probably without her realizing it, Anakin thought.

“There’s also a lot of time before either Luke or Leia are ready to be Padawans,” Anakin reminded her. “Especially with everything that’s going on--”

Leia tugged at his tunic, interrupting him. When he looked at her, there was something about her face that made him think of Padmé. He rubbed her back and looked at Ahsoka. “And . . . and they might not be trained as Jedi anyway.”

His former Padawan’s eyes went wide. “What? With how Force sensitive they are?”

Anakin breathed out slowly. “Padmé had a really strong reaction to the twins being so strong in the Force. It was right after she gave birth, so her emotions were all over the place, but--but I think she feels conflicted over the idea of giving the twins to the Temple.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka said, her natural empathy showing in her voice. “That must be very difficult to think about. Especially when you’re holding your newborns and you think you have to give them up.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “And . . . well, I’m done hiding things from the Council. But if I get expelled, I wouldn’t even be there to keep an eye on them. Not that I don’t trust you or Obi-Wan or the other Jedi, but . . .”

“It’s not the same,” Ahsoka said, nodding her head. “But, Master--I don’t think you’ll be expelled.”

There was such certainty in her voice, Anakin had to look at her. She gave him a small smile.

“Last night, before I contacted Obi-Wan, I felt something in the Force. A shift that seemed to mean there was something good coming. I think it might have been the birth of the twins. So I don’t see how something the Force sees as a positive would lead to your expulsion.”

Could it be? Could his children be so important? He hadn’t felt such stirrings, but then, he had been a little distracted, what with Padmé giving birth. Perhaps Obi-Wan had noticed something--he would have to talk to him later. Once their meeting was over, once they knew exactly what was happening with the clones.

Once Obi-Wan finished reuniting with his lost love.

Anakin looked at Ahsoka. “What do you think is happening out there? With Obi-Wan and the Duchess?”

“I’ve been trying to give them privacy, even with how emotional they both feel,” Ahsoka said, which Anakin acknowledged with a nod. “But . . . but I think it’s going to turn out okay.”

“I sure hope so,” Anakin said, gently rocking Leia and moving her towards the crib. “I think we’re going to need both Obi-Wan and Satine for what’s to come. Although if anyone deserves a break from putting the galaxy first, it’s those two.”

“Now that I’ve seen them together, I agree,” Ahsoka said. “I wonder what they’re doing.”

XXX

Never before had a silence held so much.

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop staring at Satine as Padmé ushered everyone else out of the room. In the back corner of his mind, he wondered if he should feel grateful to the Senator for allowing him these moments with Satine.

And that realization left him standing as silent and still as a nerf surrounded by banthas.

Like so many times in their past, it was Satine who took the first step. “Obi-Wan--”

Her voice made him squeeze his eyes shut. She was thin and pale, clearly still recovering from her injury and the toil of her recovery. Her beautiful blonde hair was cut close to her scalp, and her eyes were shadowed with pain and worry.

But her voice was the same. Strong and sure, steady and unyielding.

And there was no trace of anger or judgment in her voice. No unspoken accusation about him leaving her for dead.

He supposed he felt enough of that for both of them.

How--how could he have not realized Satine was still alive? He had held her close, extending his emotions for any flicker of her presence, searching for a heartbeat, but there had been nothing.

“I don’t understand,” he said softly, opening his eyes to look at her. “I . . . I was sure that you were dead.”

“So was I,” Satine said, her eyes warmer and softer than he had ever seen them. “I would not have told you how I felt about you unless I thought I was dying.”

His heart clenched in his chest and Obi-Wan opened his mouth, ready to--he wasn’t sure what he was ready to do, and he didn’t get a chance to find out, because Satine took two steps towards him and covered his mouth with her hand.

Her skin was warm and smooth against his lips, and he could catch the faintest hint of lilies--the perfume she had always worn, even during their year on the run when it could have been used to identify her. The scent that had once wrapped around the both of them, when they had--

“No, Obi,” Satine whispered, jerking him out of his lustful thoughts. “You don’t have an obligation to say anything. I only told you because--because I wanted you to know. So you knew there was someone who . . .”

She let her voice trail off, then swallowed and dropped her hand from his face.

“The first Mandalorian Jedi created the Darksaber. You know that, of course,” Satine said, not waiting for any acknowledgement from him before continuing. “What the Jedi didn’t know is the Darksaber has a will of its own. Something special about the crystal that powers it, so the legends say.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to rise above his emotions. “Kyber crystals pick their Jedi. So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that the Darksaber has similar characteristics.”

“Yes,” Satine said, clasping her hands together. “So when Maul used the Darksaber on me . . . it did not wish for me to die.”

“But--but you were stabbed,” Obi-Wan said, knowing he sounded like a fool for stating the obvious. “Straight through your chest.”

Satine gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “I’m as confused as you are. As disbelieving. Yet here I stand. As best as my doctors can determine, the Darksaber shifted itself as it entered my body, reforming the blade to allow my vital organs to be dealt only glancing blows. My muscles were shredded and I needed a new set of lungs, but . . . but I survived.”

It was so extraordinary, so seemingly impossible. Yet . . . he was a Jedi. He had seen so many remarkable events in his life, witnessing what most would call miracles.

Too often, he had faced heartbreak and tragedy--random, chaotic, meaningless. And he had consoled himself by remembering it was all the will of the Force. Could it be, for once in his life, the will of the Force brought happiness and renewal?

Such thoughts weren’t very Jedi-like of him. All things came from the Force, and its will moved in mysterious ways that couldn’t be fully understood. But right now, Obi-Wan didn’t want to act like a Jedi.

He wanted to act like a man. A man reunited with the woman who meant everything to him.

“Satine,” he said softly, moving towards her. He reached out and gently wrapped his hands around her clasped ones, savoring the warmth of her skin.

She never hesitated to look in his eyes. To meet his gaze and listen to what he had to say, even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. And this time was no different. So he could see the hope in her eyes.

“When we first met, no one had ever looked at me and just knew me so quickly, so thoroughly,” Obi-Wan said, gazing at her. “And even though we both grew and changed, you still know me.”

“I do,” Satine said softly, turning her hands in his grasp in order to lace her fingers through his. “Just like you know me.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan smiled at her, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. This close to her, he could see the fine lines on her face, the way her lips oh-so-slightly trembled, the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

And even though he had always thought confessing his feelings to Satine would be the most difficult thing he would ever do, it wasn’t.

“I loved you always . . . and I always will, Satine,” he told her, purposefully repeating the words of her own confession. “I do not say this out of obligation--but because it’s what I feel, and to hide that is wrong--”

“Oh, shut up,” Satine said, going up on her toes and kissing him softly.

It was like the whole galaxy burst into song. Not simply because they were kissing, but because . . . they were in love.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and kissed her back slowly, taking his time, feeling every precious emotion Satine created within him, drawing her close and into his arms.

All too soon, Satine pulled back and he followed her lips, bending down to kiss her.

“That was quite rude, my dear,” he said, pressing soft kisses along her jaw. “Telling me to shut up?”

“Oh . . . well . . . Jedi are so much talk and so little action,” Satine breathed out, tilting her head to give him more access to her skin.

“Only some Jedi,” he said, lightly nipping her earlobe.

Satine let out the most gratifying little gasp of a whimper and drew away from him. “Obi, as--as extremely pleasant as this is--”

“We have work to do,” he finished for her, nodding. But that didn’t stop him from reaching out and holding her hand. “But Satine, just so we’re clear . . . once our work is done? I am yours. No matter what.”

Over the years, there had been a few moments when he had seen Satine happy. They were moments he treasured, how the light of her Force presence increased and her smile reached her eyes. But right now, he could tell Satine was more than happy. She was practically radiant in her joy.

And Obi-Wan wanted to make her that happy for the rest of his life.

XXX

If there was one thing Padmé Amidala knew, it was maintaining a secret romance. She understood how hard it was to stay professional when you wanted to be with your love, to show some sign of your relationship.

It was wonderful that Satine was alive. Amazing, in fact. Padmé had grieved for the Mandalorian Duchess, a woman who had inspired Padmé to balance both the political and the personal. To remember she was also Padmé as well as Senator Amidala, and that she couldn’t be an effective Senator if she wasn’t also a person, too.

So the least Padmé could do was give Satine and Obi-Wan a few minutes together. To allow them time to talk, to resolve their emotions. Because Padmé had never seen Obi-Wan so emotional as when he saw Satine.

Unfortunately, though, their time was almost up. The meeting was scheduled to begin soon, and while their other guests hadn’t arrived yet, it was likely to happen any moment now.

Taking a breath, Padmé looked at Lady Kryze and smiled. “It shouldn’t be much longer before the meeting begins. It’s probably time to remind everyone about the meeting and gather in the living room. Goodness knows Anakin loses all track of time around the twins.”

Lady Krzye nodded, her lips quirking upwards. “And someone should go make sure Satine and Master Kenobi are still clothed.”

“Ah, so you . . . are aware of their past?” Padmé said, tilting her head to one side as she settled on an appropriate euphemism for the relationship between Satine and Obi-Wan.

The Mandalorian woman snorted. “Of course. No one makes Satine lose her temper like he does.”

“I don’t think anyone unsettles Obi-Wan like Satine, so I suppose they’re equal.”

With a nod, Lady Kryze said, “I’ll take care of my sister and her jetii.”

“I’ll meet you there after I’ve gotten Anakin and Ahsoka,” Padmé said, feeling a flutter of gratitude to Lady Kryze for volunteering to handle the more awkward situation.

The two of them separated and Padmé headed to the nursery, excited to get a few moments with the twins before she had to focus on work.

Seeing Anakin hold both the babies made her heart melt. Padmé stepped inside quietly and walked over to him. “Hello, my darlings.”

Anakin smiled widely at her. “Hey, angel. I was just going to put the twins in their crib.”

“Are they asleep?” Padmé asked, noticing how Ahsoka slipped out of the room. She managed to smile quickly at the Togruta before turning her attention to the children.

“Not yet, but they’re definitely sleepy,” Anakin said, showing her Leia’s face smushed against his tunic, her eyes drifting shut and her lips pursed.

Padmé gently stroked Leia’s head, then lifted her out of Anakin’s arms. She settled Leia against her chest, swaying from side to side. Leia let out a soft little sigh, looking up at Padmé with so much love and trust in her eyes.

As she gazed at her daughter, Padmé couldn’t help smiling. Leia was just so precious and unique. The idea of getting to watch Leia grow up, taking pride in her successes and helping with her challenges, was a humbling one. Getting to do that with Luke as well made Padmé feel even more humble.

There wasn’t much time before the meeting. Part of her wished she could just stay here, and sing Leia to sleep and then cuddle Luke while telling him a story. But this meeting would mean so much to the whole galaxy. It could lead to the peace which would allow her to spend such time with her babies.

Still . . . there was enough time to spend a few minutes with the twins.

“Aren’t they just perfect?” Anakin whispered.

And Padmé could only smile and nod at him. Because he was right.

End, Chapter 9

#anidala #obitine #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #padme amidala #bo-katan kryze #star wars #late-night interruption

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crimziedrawings · 4 years

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A Last Chance, Part 3

Immediately, Thomas straightened. “Absolutely not,”

Sophie sighed with exasperation. “Thomas-”

“Do not listen to anything he says, mama. It isn’t true,”

“I know that, darling. Please, excuse us for just a few minutes,”

Alastair watched as Thomas looked to his father, his eyes begging for him to do something.

He did that. He interrupted this family’s grieving, in their own home, and spat insults to their face. And now, the one he’s trying to redeem himself to, the one he cares about, is feeling useless, unable to prevent his mother from being left alone with Alastair.

“Sophie, my love-” Gideon began.

Sophie cut her husband off with a single glance. “I will not ask again.”

Gideon looked softly at his wife. The two of them seemed to be having a conversation that no one else understood. Eventually, he nodded and walked towards the library doors, pausing to ensure that Thomas and Eugenia were following. Eugenia stood silently, sparing one misty look towards her mother. Thomas shook his head and, reluctantly, left the library. The glare he gave Alastair held a promise that set his heart racing. Alastair watched the door close, wishing he could leave as well, fearing whatever came next.

“Please, sit,” Sophie said, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Alastair nodded, carefully sitting in the chair as not to seem disrespectful.

“You are dedicated, I see. I imagine it must’ve been very hard to come here, especially if my son knew of these sayings. He is very protective of his family, my Thomas. You said he was upset with you? If his actions today reflect any of his previous behavior towards you, I will talk to him. I cannot apologize on his behalf, however, as he is his own man and is fully capable of making his own decisions. Nevertheless, I can address him on how he treats others, even those who mistreat him. A mother’s job is never-ending,” Sophie finished with a sad look.

Alastair didn’t know what to say. Except, “I am sorry about Barbara,”

Sophie looked away, but Alastair saw the glossy eyes. She exhaled slowly, composing herself before turning back to Alastair. She gave him a slight nod and he knew that that was all she could muster. She did not want to grieve the loss of her daughter with a stranger.

“You know, my husband was very much like you when he was your age,”

This was shocking. Gideon Lightwood, the real side of Gideon Lightwood, was only ever kind and understanding. Alastair could not fathom Gideon as cruel as he is- was.

“His father was… a difficult man. A sick man,” she continued. “He was an elitist of a sort. Arrogant and proud. And he taught his sons to be the same way. I had never met Gideon in this stage when I was a servant at the Institute.” As she said this, she straightened her chin, almost daring Alastair to react in an ill manner. “But I had heard stories.”

Despite the serious atmosphere, she smiled. “Then he took his travel year to Spain,”

Thomas had went to Spain as well, Alastair realized with a pang.

“Spain had transformed him, had erased his father’s voice in his head, he told me. Though it did not make him a better man. He did that himself. He realized the ideas his father practiced were not right and he turned away from him. But he did not leave his family. He worked to save his siblings, in particular Gabriel who was gobbling up every word his father said, not bothering to think for himself. He never gave up. Not on his brother, not on himself…. not on me. You see the kind of man he is now?”

Alastair did not want to break her flow so he simply nodded. But it seemed she had a different idea.

“And what do you see?”

He thought about it, recalling all that he had observed about Gideon Lightwood. “He’s kind and patient and… honorable,” he finished, with a new respect for the man.

“But he was not always so. He learned. He grew. And before he became better, what had motivated him, was his pain. He did not like the man he was. He did not like the relationships he had with those around him. So, before there was a change, there was suffering,” Sophie’s head tilted as she looked at Alastair with a gentle look. “Are you suffering?”

Alastair was taken aback by the turn of conversation. She so easily changed the topic to Alastair, as if he were part of it all to begin with. He did not know how to answer. He didn’t have to answer, he realized. He didn’t owe this woman anything. But that mysterious ability of hers, working so much like the Mortal Sword, was drawing his words out before he even understood what he was saying. “Yes… I have been for a while, I suppose,” he said, looking down at his hands.

Alastair felt betrayed by his own self. He did not realize how much he was hurting; He did not even realize he was hurting at all.

“My dear, I am sorry,” Sophie said.

Alastair head shot up. “You? Sorry for what?”

Sophie was still looking at him with that soft look in her eyes. “For everything. I am sorry you followed the wrong people. I am sorry for whatever situation you were in that allowed a little boy to think and speak with such hatred. I am sorry that it was never dissolved, that you had no one to help you. I am sorry that you are lost and in pain,”

Alastair could feel the tears running down his face, but he did not care. He was absolutely disgusted with himself for ever believing such wrong accusations about this woman. He was immediately filled with rage as he remembered those that still whisper about her to this day. She did not deserve this. She was better than any of the pure-blooded Nephilim he had met, and Alastair would not be surprised if she were made by the angels themselves.

Sophie moved to sit on the coffee table so she was directly in front of Alastair. “You say you want to fix yourself? There is nothing to fix. We all have a past to be ashamed of,” Something dark flickered in her eyes, so quick that Alastair thought he imagined it. “But we wouldn’t be who we are today if the past did not happen. Hide the shame all you want, but don’t ignore it,”

Alastair nodded, the tears still streaming. Before, he would’ve hated the idea of being so vulnerable in her presence. Now, he felt it was only natural to do so.

Sophie reached out to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I forgive you, Alastair Carstairs,”

Alastair had never felt so light.

°°°

Alastair Carstairs is dedicated to becoming a better man. This means owning up to his actions in the past. He starts with the family that he hurt the most, the Lightwoods. But he leaves the family’s home filled with a mixture of emotions, after the reactions he received from them.

This is part three of a story about Alastair Carstairs facing the Lightwoods, because before I can accept Thomastairs, I need Alastair to own up to his actions.

Tags: @thatdemonicchild @fairchild-squad @daisyherxndale @lizlightwood-herondale @vampire-mojo-strikes-again

Let me know if you would like to be tagged as well!

#the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #sophie lightwood #sophie collins #gideon lightwood #eugenia lightwood #the infernal devices #the shadowhunter chronicles

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “ What Death Tastes Like” Part 5

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The Joker feels his face covered in soft kisses and although generally speaking he loves being pampered, this particular instance awakens his self-defense mechanism.

“What time is it?” J mutters.

“Let me see,” you stretch for your phone. “12:03 am.”

“I should go,” he lifts his head up from the pillow and you pull him back in your arms, yawning.

“Stay for a little bit longer, ok?”

“Why?”

“I wish to hold on to my birthday present for a few more minutes,” Y/N pleads with the man she senses doesn’t want to be there anymore. “Don’t worry, I’m aware it was a casual affair,” your sad smile prompts a completely out of context answer:

“If you noticed I fell asleep, you should have woken me up!” The King of Gotham complains.

“I fell asleep also,” you snuggle to him and since J is suddenly quiet you whisper. “It was amazing.”

He keeps staring which makes you wonder what the hell is going on in his mind right now.

“At least for me,” you underline after you grasp he won’t comment on the subject; you didn’t have a clue he’ll convert the night you spent together into awkwardness for no reason. “Get out of my tent!” you snap at his behavior, irritated. “Get out!” you shove him and The Clown Prince of Crime doesn’t budge.

“Why are you mad?” he finally addresses the annoyed Y/N.

“Because you’re a jerk!”

“Come again?!” The Joker frowns and Scarecrow’s daughter has a clever response; she doesn’t share his genes for nothing.

“I would but I guess you’re not a big fan of us having sex a second time!!!”

“Wow!” J bitterly scoffs. “You sure can twist a guy’s words, huh? If you really must pry into my personal life, I’ll have you know that I’m not used with small talk afterwards, understand?”

While you wonder if he’s bluffing, you can’t help offer the benefit of doubt served with a side of insolence.

“Well, maybe if you would give it a try with someone that actually cares, you’d have stuff to discuss.”

“Miss Crane, what makes you think Mara doesn’t like me?”

The Joker expects a feisty reply to his audacious remark yet he receives a piece of sturdy logic instead:

“If she was crazy in love, she wouldn’t agree and with this on and off relationship you two have.”

J is obviously displeased at your statement thus Y/N has to unleash her creativity in order to push him comprehend what she’s aiming at.

“The problem is you don’t approach anything important, you only shut down everyone. Even Emma believes she’s not yours.”

The King of Gotham was preparing to lash out but your latest sentence totally catches him off guard.

“What do you mean?!”

“You never talk about her mother granted she keeps asking so Emma presumes you probably stole her from an individual you consider your enemy and raised her as revenge.”

“Huh?!” The Joker gets on his elbow, appalled. “She is my daughter!”

“I say that to her when she panics, unfortunately random people do look similar…,” you twirl a strand of his green hair around your fingers. “Steering clear from issues we’re uncomfortable with doesn’t necessarily result in a positive outcome,” Y/N concludes and her partner is not excited at all.

“Are you psychoanalyzing me?!”

“I’m a Crane,” you peck his lips. “It’s in our blood.”

A lot of thoughts rushing behind those blue eyes and you’re confident his patience is running low; add a short fuse to the combo and according to your flawless instinct J will bite soon.

“Take me for example,” you attempt to cram in the main point of your dialogue before it happens. “I don’t care you’re older, I fancy your company nevertheless: you’re super handsome plus emotionally unattractive…”

“I’m what?!” The Joker interrupts.

“Umm… emotionally unattractive?” you hesitantly repeat while watching him jump off the pillows and start to collect his clothes in the semi darkness.

“Serves me right for sleeping with somebody half my age!” he growls at the young woman realizing she upset him with her rant.

“So you’re 46?” you struggle to joke at his affirmation.

“Listen here, Miss Crane!” J dresses in a hurry, angry at your stunt. “If you imagine you figured me out, you didn’t!! Nobody fucks with me!” he violently kicks the mattress and you can’t avoid it:

“I think I just did. Literally.”

The hate in his demeanor makes you regret opening up; your goal was to imply you like him no matter what yet the aftermath is way off what you intended.

“I apologize, OK?” you sigh and reach your hand for his.

“I hope you perish!” he strikes your fingers with such brutality it stings. “You’re dying anyway but hopefully the Cromyxillium kills you faster!” The Joker unzips the tent and leaves a shocked Y/N breathless at his hurtful tirade.

“That’s all you got? Stupid old man…” you whimper and cuddle under the thin blanket with his cushion.

Grief is not the correct term to describe what you experience for the moment: a perfect birthday turned into exactly the opposite in a blink of an eye simply because The Joker proved once more he has no concept on how to handle dynamite; fire suits him better.

***************

Next morning, 10:14am

“Are you hot or cold?” your father inquires since your intravenous therapy commenced 10 minutes ago.

“No,” you gaze at the IV bag and Jonathan lingers by your bed, reminding his offspring about their plan.

“We’ll do 3 hours on, 3 hours off; I’ll monitor your vitals and if you feel strange alert me immediately, deal?”

You nod a yes and his perseverance in aiding you with your terminal cancer evokes a sincere confession:

“Daddy…Thank you for trying to save me…I’m sorry I’m a burden…”

“A burden?!” Scarecrow mumbles.

There are a million facts you should evoke, yet the predominant one keeps hunting you.

“You buried yourself in the lab because of me…and Evelyn left…”

“Evelyn and I broke up for various motives,” your parent grumbles. “Saying I immersed myself into working because of you hints that I was forced into it against my will which is not true. I did everything out of love… I can’t bear the idea of losing you,” he kisses your temple; you wrap your free arm around his neck, squeezing him tight.

“You’re the best dad; I’m lucky you’re my father. If I die… you think mom is waiting for me?...”

Jonathan Crane has the weird sensation he’s choking; his wife died after you were born due to leukemia, now their daughter is fighting for survival: she’s plainly the last fortress separating him from utter madness.

“I couldn’t save your mother, but I’ll be damned if I let you die kid,” he caresses your cheek. “She can wait; I bet she’s not eager to take you with her,” Scarecrow reassures his daughter. “Rest honey.”

“I will…” you consent and Emma barging in the bedroom with her duffle bag switches your attention.

“I’m here, I’m here!” she exclaims. “Traffic was horrible, bad accident on the freeway!”

**************

11 am

“Are you comfortable?” Emma checks with her friend, not entirely certain how to bring up a very delicate topic clouding her usually bubbly disposition.

“Of course,” you smile and she wiggles in her recliner. “Are you?” you wink at her visible restlessness as you attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

“Y/N…,” she taps the fluffy carpet with her feet. “Mmmm… last night after we returned from the river I dropped by to see how you’re doing and… I came to your tent…,” Emma pauses seeing the stupefied expression on your face. “I…I found my father sleeping in there with you…”

You lick your lips and strain to keep your calm even if your heart is pounding out of your chest.

“Did my dad take advantage of you?” she lowers her voice and you can tell she’s torn apart by the horrible notion.

“He didn’t,” you shake your head.

“Dumb girl…” Emma admonishes without any trace of resentment; what else can she articulate in these circumstances regardless?

“I can’t believe I’m inquiring… Did you use protection?”

“No…It just happened…”

“Oh my God!” the concerned judgement pressures you to continue:

“It didn’t end well so it’s fair to assume we’re not in any danger of me becoming your stepmom,” your tone diminishes and she leans over to scold when The Joker passes by the opened door without bothering to peek inside your bedroom; you didn’t spot him but Emma did.

“I’ll be back!” she hisses and you’re confused at her desire to leave you.

“Hey, where are you going?”

She ignores your question and races after The King of Gotham, catching up with him at the end of the long corridor.

“Dad!” Emma shouts and he turns around.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?!” she interrogates the clueless Joker.

“I’m meeting Crane. Is he downstairs?”

“In his lab compounding the next batch of Cromyxillium for Y/N,” she fumes at J’s impertinence. “Didn’t you forget something?”

He seems puzzled and Emma is not tricked by his deceiving performance.

“My best friend is in her quarters, uncertain if she’ll survive the cancer treatment. Are you pretending she doesn’t exist?”

“Meaning?” The Joker sneers.

“I know you slept with her!” the accusation follows instantly. “Don’t deny it! How could you take advantage of her?!”

The Clown Prince of Crime straightens his shoulders, aware he can’t negotiate his innocence out of this complicated riddle.

“I did not take advantage of her! How dare you accuse me of such low move?”

“You didn’t?” Emma closes the gap between them. “You know she has a crush on you and she’s vulnerable; what type of man would prey on that?!”

J is not thrilled with the innuendos and cuts her off:

“She basically begged for some and I obliged out of pity!”

Emma slaps him and The Joker gasps, enraged she had the audacity:

“Do that again and I’ll neglect you’re my daughter!” he growls and the serious threat doesn’t faze her.

“Hurt her more and I’ll forget you’re my father! If you are indeed my father,” she emphasizes while stomping away towards the kitchen.

“I am your father!” J simmers at her impeccable strategy: Emma is retreating to a different corner of the house giving him the opportunity to choose.

Who the heck knows if she’s actually his?

One thing is undeniable though: they share the same despicable temper.

****************

You discern The Joker in the doorway and your body stiffens; you stare at the TV screen wishing he’ll disappear.

“Where’s Crane?” J analyzes Y/N’s IV pole.

You don’t engage so his crankiness emerges.

“I suppose you didn’t flatlined yet!”

“Nope,” you grunt at the provocative declaration that served its goal: you did reply to The Clown’s rubbish.

“Where’s Crane?”

“I heard you the first time and I’m not sure why you focus your energy on a useless interrogation. You know where my father is!”

“Where?” The Joker’s vile attitude can’t compromise for less than instigating his fling.

“Please take your stuff that’s firm now but will get saggy in maximum 20 years and vanish!” the poisonous remark makes him groan.

“What stuff?!”

You check him out glaring at his mid-section before dismissing his presence.

“That’s the rudest fucking criticism ever!” The Joker barks and Y/N crabbily indicates:

“It’s not criticism, it’s reality! Gravity’s a bitch! Mara won’t mind, won’t she? After all, you two share a very special bond: on today, off tomorrow, hookup next week, take a break next month. Such dreamy relationship!”

“Do you have more derogatory references to my private life?!” J grinds his teeth ready to unleash several atrocities your way.

“No, too busy dying…” you show him the needle in your arm. “I don’t feel the pain from the medication burning my veins; I’m used with my sickness, with the ups and downs. What I do feel is the pain of being taken for granted.”

The Joker is not a fan of the insinuated context.

“You said no strings attached!” he stresses the lack of commitment consented the previous evening.

“You’re the one that came to me; I thought it meant you were accepting to be the center of my universe.”

J ogles the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom and assembles a couple of harsh disclosures in his brain when her entitled smirk halts the project.

“You’re buying it, aren’t you?” you chuckle at his astonishment. “I’m just messing with you Mister Joker; who in their right mind would make you the center of their universe?! You have 10 seconds to leave, otherwise I’ll scream and security will come!” you shelter your head with the quilt so you don’t have to see his mug anymore.

No outpour of vexation from his part which is cool: means he bailed.

The blanket is slowly pulled until your eyes emerge; J hovers your face, pissed at the unwelcomed clash.

“I’m checking if you kicked the bucket; corpses are usually covered thus my dilemma.”

“Go away!” you advise. “Or I’ll scream!”

You inhale preparing to yell: The Joker didn’t predict you’d defy him and he swiftly kisses you in order to stop the sounds.

The door is cracked and Emma witnesses the scene, reckoning bizarre elements:

Her father holds grudges and was mad at Y/N earlier due to whatever happened yesterday; nevertheless he still kissed her.

On the other hand, you were definitely miserable after your escapade, yet you didn’t reject him.

Emma may not be informed about the entire story, but one detail is crystal clear: the future is far from being simple.

Also read: MASTERLIST

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagines #joker leto #joker suicide squad #mister j #Mistah J #dc #dcu

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

12. Long Distance

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x17; Hell House

Word Count: 7,182

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sisterly antics

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Let me know what you think! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia anxiously watched the printer in Beth and Taylor's study, her lips quirking into a smile as the professional cursive was inked onto the expensive paper that Beth insist she get for her diploma. She had finally graduated from Stanford and, although she didn't get to attend graduation, she was very proud of herself. Her double major in Religion and Linguistics had been received simply because she was too meticulous and stubborn to let her education go waste.

But now that education was over and she couldn't lie and say she wasn't happy about it. Sixteen years in school was a long time—even though she went two years less than other people she graduated with—and she was glad that part of her life was over. She just wished that her mom and Levi were still here to witness this. Still, she knew they were watching up in Heaven and that was the best she was going to get.

Once the printer spit out her diploma, she carefully set it on Beth's desk so the ink could dry without any smudges. She was just taking a seat in the desk chair where her open laptop was sitting so she could continue working on the case she found for Sam and Dean down in Texas when her cellphone rang.

She wasn't surprised that it was Dean; he had been calling her every couple of hours to check up on her. He wasn't happy that she didn't want to hit the road just yet after Levi's death but he understood and was supportive anyway. He just made sure she knew that he and Sam would check up on her and the rest of the Petersen family. That was sweet and everything and Julia appreciated how supportive the Winchester brothers were being but sometimes there was such a thing as too many calls. She couldn't believe that Dean accused her of talking too much.

Beth and Abby thought it was the cutest thing ever when she'd have to leave the room to talk to Sam and Dean—though it was mostly Dean as she and Sam communicated through a text thread—and not return for a half-hour. Beth and Abby weren't the ones who had to assure a very worried Dean every couple of minutes that they were safe and feeling a little bit better. Usually Julia was the mother-hen but, apparently, in her absence, Dean took up the title.

Julia sighed and flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Dean."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn't see the obvious look on her face. "What's up?"

"Well, Sam just woke up with a spoon in his mouth," Dean chuckled, sounding satisfied with himself. "and I took a picture to send to you."

"Yeah, it's real funny, Dean," Sam grumbled.

Julia shook her head in amusement; Sam and Dean's prank wars were always a hit with Dean, even if Sam didn't enjoy them as much as his older brother.

"Where are you guys?"

"A few hours outside of Richardson," Dean answered her. "Give me the low down on this case you found."

"Okay," Julia pressed the space button on her laptop, waking it up, and clicked on the folder of information she collected. "About two months ago, a group of kids went poking around a local haunted house."

"Haunted by what?" Sam wondered.

"A misogynistic spirit, I guess. Like we need any more of those in the world," she hummed in disapproval; Sam chuckled in agreement. "Anyway, the legend goes that it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters."

"Okay, so what happened with this group of kids?" Dean said, getting her back on track.

"They saw a dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"The body was gone by the time the cops got there," Julia clicked on the police report in the file. "The police think that the kids were playing a joke on them."

"Maybe the cops were right," Sam suggested.

"They could be but I've read some of the first-hand accounts from the kids involved," Julia sighed. "They seemed pretty sincere about the whole thing."

Dean sounded skeptical when he spoke next. "And where did you read these accounts, Junior?"

Julia took a beat, glad that he couldn't see the flush rising in her face. "I might have surfed through some local paranormal websites."

"Mmhm," she could hear Dean's disapproval even though he hummed. "and what's it called?"

Julia sighed as she read the website from the file, "Hell hounds lair dot-com," she heard Sam laugh. "Hey, it could be legit!"

"Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the ass, Julia," Dean sighed.

"Hey, you wanted a case, I delivered," Julia defended herself. "If it's nothing, that's fine, but it doesn't hurt to check it out."

"Especially since we let Dad and Luke take off," Sam backed up Julia.

Julia frowned, still bitter about that. She wasn't mad at Dean and Sam by any means. No, she was angry with her dad. He didn't come when Julia was dying or when Levi actually died but he was fine following John Winchester to Chicago just to see the failed trap the girl who killed Levi set up for them.

It wasn't like his daughters were only a half-hour away, mourning the loss of their older brother or anything. It wasn't like his only son was killed.

"Fine," Dean gave in when he heard Julia's silence. He had been the one to tell her that they saw Luke with their dad and it was heartbreaking to see the expression on her face. He hoped he'd never let her down like Luke did. "We'll check it out. How have you been doing, shortcake?"

"I'm fine," Julia twisted her lips. "I got my diploma today."

"Wait, are you serious?" Sam exclaimed. "That's great, J! Congratulations!"

"I'm proud of you, Julia," Dean added sincerely.

"Thanks, guys," Julia's chest swelled with love. She was so glad that Sam and Dean Winchester were in her life.

"Send me a picture."

"I will," she agreed to Sam's request. "Well, I'll let you go—"

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped her from hanging up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Dean..."

"I mean, you can talk to us."

Julia quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't do chick-flick moments?"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well..." he changed the subject. "How many times have you watched Dirty Dancing since we left?"

Julia hesitated; Dirty Dancing was her go-to movie to watch whenever she was sad. It was her mother's favorite movie and Julia grew up watching it a lot. She absolutely adored Patrick Swayze, the dancing, the music, and the love story that made up the film. It made her happier.

"Jules?"

"I've watched it every night, okay?" she confessed. "Leave me alone, I'm delicate."

"All right, all right," Dean gave in; Julia could tell that he was worried about her and that was sweet but watching that movie was her coping mechanism and it hadn't let her down so far. "We'll talk later, shortcake. Stay safe."

"I will," she promised. "You guys be safe, too. Love you."

"Love ya, too, J," Sam called. "Bye."

"Bye."

Julia closed her phone and set it down on the desk beside her laptop. She pulled up her internet browser and started doing more research for the case, hoping that any information she pulled would help the brothers out.

Dean and Sam walked into the record shop, looking around for the guy that the witnesses said sent them to the house where they saw the dead girl. As they passed by the first table full of records, a worker came out from the back with his hands full of more merchandise to put away.

"Gentlemen, can I help you with anything?" he asked them.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked him politely.

"I am," the worker confirmed as he put a record in place.

"Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News," Dean told him. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

"No way," Craig's face lit up. "I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Ah, good for you, Morrison," Dean chuckled as he began to look through the crate of records in front of him. He completely missed the confused look that Craig gave him but Sam noticed and cleared his throat.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one," Sam smiled at Craig, wishing that Julia was here to get the information out of him—she was much better with the guys than he was.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asked.

Dean nodded, looking up from the records. "That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig said avoidantly.

"Why don't you tell us the story."

"Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer named Mordechai Murdoch used to live in this house with his six daughters," Craig told them after a moment of hesitation. "It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, and he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death, so he attacked them," Craig stated. "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung them up, one after the other. And, when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

Dean pressed his lips together; the story Craig was telling sounded just like that. A story. His words were something out of a dramatic novel, not a true story. And what parent would just kill their kids instead of trying to do whatever it took to make sure they lived?

"Where'd you hear all of this?" he asked Craig.

"My cousin, Dana, told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do," Sam assumed.

"I don't know what the hell to think, man," Craig shrugged. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again."

Dean shared a look with Sam and then nodded at Craig. "Thanks."

A half-hour later, Sam and Dean were walking through mud to get to the so-called Hell House. It was creepy looking, they had to admit, but not anything less creepy than the things they saw everyday during their job. It was just a little run-down house, not much else.

"I can't say I blame the kid," Sam sighed, his eyes searching the grounds around the house.

"Yeah," Dean agreed as they got closer to the house. "so much for curb appeal."

Sam took a look around the perimeter of the house while Dean pulled out the EMF meter. It whirled like it usually did when there was anything unusual around but the way it started up as soon as he pressed it on, made him think that something was off.

He tapped the device, frustrated, as Sam came back over to him.

"You got something?"

"Yeah, the EMF's no good," Dean looked around, the powerlines above the house catching his eye.

"Why?"

Dean nodded at the power lines. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"Come on, let's go."

They entered the house, finding that it was unlocked in its abandoned state. They started in the front room and then moved onto the living room where a fireplace lined with various candles was. The walls were covered in spray paint, a bunch of different symbols that didn't really even go together scattered randomly around the room.

Dean whistled sarcastically. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger in his time."

"And after his time, too," Sam muttered, eyeing a symbol of an encircled cross. "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of Sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Dean gave Sam a long took, wrinkling his nose. "How do you know that?"

"I listen to Julia when she talks about this kind of stuff," Sam said pointedly, knowing that Dean checked out whenever something that required a little brain power was brought up.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he walked across the room, looking at more of the symbols on the walls. He stopped in front of one that looked like an upside-down question mark with two little lines on either side. It looked kind of familiar. "Hey, what about this one? Have you seen this one before?"

Sam studied the symbol and took a picture of it with his phone. "No."

"I have...Somewhere," he couldn't place it, though.

Sam cautiously reached toward the symbol, rubbing it with his fingertips. "It's paint," he studied the slight stain that it left. "Seems pretty fresh, too."

Dean sighed and turned away from the symbol. "I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind but the cops may be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe—"

A loud noise cut off Sam's agreement. The brothers instantly went on alert and followed the noise to a door that led to another room. They stood on either side of it; when Sam nodded, Dean whipped open the door and stepped into the room.

He was immediately attacked by bright beams of lights right in his eyes and two groans of horror. When the flashlights flitted away, he could see that there were two guys in front of them, around his age with camera gear.

The brunette groaned. "Oh, cut. It's just a couple of humans," he told his companion, who shut the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean countered.

"Uh, we belong here," the ginger guy with the camera drawled. "We're professionals."

"Professional what?"

"Paranormal investigators," the ginger reached into his pocket and pulled out a card to give to them. "Here you go, take a look at that, boys."

Dean took the card and read it. He groaned in realization, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler? Hellhoundslair.com," Sam read over his shoulder. "You guys run that website?"

Ed, who was the ginger with the camera, nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans," Dean said sarcastically as he passed Ed and Harry to check out more of the kitchen.

"And we know who you guys are, too," Ed said.

Dean and Sam turned to face him sharply. "Oh, yeah?"

"Amateurs," as soon as the words were out of Ed's mouth, Dean pursed his lips and turned away once again. "looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep," the other guy, Harry, agreed. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here."

"Yeah?" Dean noticed a gadget that they must have brought with them on the counter; he picked it up to inspect it. "What do you have so far?"

"Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed prompted his friend.

Harry hesitated. "Well..."

"EMF?" Sam played dumb and Dean saw that he was trying not to smile.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry told him as though he was an expert. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector," he pulled a EMF reader out of his canvas vest. "Like this bad boy right here."

He turned on the EMF, causing it to whirl angrily. "Woah, woah," he exchanged an excited look with Ed while Dean smirked at Sam. "It's two-point-eight MG."

"Two-point-eight," Ed repeated excitedly. "It's hot in here."

Dean whistled mockingly while Sam tried not to laugh. "Wow."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue. "So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before?"

"Once," Ed looked back to where Dean was standing by the counters. "We were, uh, we were investigation this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself," Harry added needlessly.

"Well, we didn't actually see it, we heard it," Ed corrected himself but grew serious again. "And something like that...it, uh, it changes you."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Dean crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to Sam. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, you should."

Dean nodded at his brother and then the door. "Sam."

Sam followed him out of the kitchen and they left the house, not wanting to deal with the kids who wanted to enter the big leagues.

Julia kneaded the sugar cookie dough on the counter in front of her, humming along to whatever Disney song that the radio that was playing throughout the kitchen. Lizzie was on her side of the island, cutting out cookies with a heart-shaped cookie cutter while Beth and Abby were on the other side, decorating some of the finished cookies with colorful icing.

Once that song was finished, a familiar one started, making her smile.

"Oh, I love this song!" Abby exclaimed while concentrating on the flower cookie she was creating. "Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns!"

"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?" Beth joined in.

Julia sang next. "You're the saddest bunch I ever met but you can bet before we're through..."

"Mister, I'll make a man out of you!" Lizzie finished loudly, making Julia, Beth, and Abby laugh.

They continued singing along to the best song that Mulan produced while making cookies. When Lizzie was finished with the rest of the heart batch, Julia slid the tray into the oven. Once she set the timer, she gave Lizzie the last batch of dough, allowing her to cut out some dinosaurs.

"I'm done with the dinosaurs, Momma!" Lizzie announced once the dough was gone.

"Good job, cutie," Beth smiled. "Why don't you go wash your hands?"

"Okay!" Lizzie climbed off the stool she was standing on and ran out of the kitchen to the nearest bathroom.

"Use soap!" Beth called after her; once she was sure her daughter couldn't overhear her, she turned to Julia. "So..."

Julia pursed her lips, knowing what was coming. Since Dean and Sam left four days before, Beth had been waiting to talk to her about something. She had that look in her eyes where she wanted girl talk and it also occurred every time Dean called her. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Julia sighed and started wiping the excess flour from the counter. "So what?"

Beth smiled coyly and Abby shook her head impatiently. "She wants to know about you and Dean."

"What about me and Dean?"

There was no her and Dean, no matter how much Julia wanted that. She had moments recently when she and Dean spoke—especially when Sam wasn't joining the conversations—where she thought Dean might have the same romantic feelings that she had but she wasn't sure. Dean cared about his family and he considered her and the rest of the Petersen family his family. It wasn't like he was pining after her the same way she was pining after him.

"Oh, stop deflecting, Julia Ruth," Beth scolded her. "There's something going on with you and Dean and I—" Abby cleared her throat and Beth corrected herself, "—we want to know."

Julia scoffed and threw her washcloth into the sink. "There is nothing going on. Trust me."

Beth and Abby exchanged skeptical looks. "But you want there to be, don't you?" Beth guessed; she gasped loudly when she saw Julia scratch her cheek. "Oh, my God, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"You scratched your cheek, you liar," Abby pointed out with a laugh. Julia scowled at her. "We're sisters, Jules. Sisters talk about this stuff."

"I've never talked to you about my boyfriends before," Julia protested.

"That's because by the time you had an actual boyfriend you were at Stanford," Beth reminded her. "and you did use to talk to me about boys. Remember that guy you liked when you were in high school?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," Julia groaned; Abby and Beth gave her expectant looks. "Fine, I like Dean. Happy?"

"Extremely," Abby smirked. "He sucked you back in, huh? How old were you when your crush on him finally went away?"

Julia blushed. "Fourteen."

Abby snorted in amusement. "Yeah, now I remember."

Julia sent her a glare while Beth slapped her arm. "Abby, stop," she scolded her before turning back to Julia. "Ignore her, Jules. It were cute."

"A fourteen-year-old crushing on a guy who was twenty? Yeah right," Julia scoffed. "And that's the problem, isn't it? He's almost seven years older than me. He doesn't see me as anything but a little sister."

Abby calmed her laughter. "Jules, Dean doesn't look at you like a sister," she told her baby sister. "He looks at me and Beth as sisters. He looks at you like you're sex on legs."

It was Beth's turn to giggle as Julia's cheeks darkened further and she ducked her head.

"And Sam says that he always checks you out," Abby added.

Julia looked up sharply. "He did?" Abby nodded. "Since when do you talk to Sam?"

"Since he grew up to be a hottie with a body."

Julia rolled her eyes so heavily that it hurt. "No one actually says that, Ab."

"Since when were we talking about me?" Abby protested as Beth laughed again. "my point it that Dean wants to fuck you."

"Okay, the five-year-old is going to be back any second so let's not use that language," Beth smothered her laughter as they heard the faucet cut off in the bathroom. "But, seriously, Julia, he likes you."

"What we're going from sex to feelings now?" Julia asked incredulously. "Sex, I get. I'm hot and Dean loves sex but feelings? Are we talking about the same Dean Winchesters, here?"

"I wanna talk about Uncle Dean!" Lizzie chirped as she ran back into the kitchen. She climbed back onto her stool and looked eagerly at her mom and aunts. "Are you talking about the crush he has on Auntie Jules?"

Julia gaped at her while Abby pointed enthusiastically. "See? Lizzie sees it too."

"That's because Beth's poisoning her mind."

"No," Lizzie protested innocently. "I heard Uncle Sammy and Auntie Abby talking about it."

"Well, I'm so glad that my love life is so interesting to you guys," Julia huffed with warm cheeks. She glanced at the oven, wishing the timer for the cookies would go off so they could change the subject.

"Look," Beth sighed. "Dean calls you multiple times a day, every day just to see how you're doing. Do you think he does that to anyone else who isn't Sam?"

"He's checking up on me."

"Don't give us that sh—crap," Abby shook her head, correcting herself before she could cuss in front of Lizzie. "You're scared that you'll put yourself out there and get rejected."

"Because it's Dean!" Julia exclaimed, frustrated. "Dean, who doesn't do relationships. So what if I want to protect myself? That's good."

"It's good to protect yourself," Beth agreed and grabbed Julia's clenched fists. "but you and Dean...you should see each other. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you're not looking. You move even an inch and he's shifting toward you. The way I see it, is this isn't a passing fancy."

"You're together every day, you fight along side each other, you protect one another," Abby continued. "You trust each other and that's rare in our profession, Jules. Even I can see that you guys have something special."

Julia wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. It was nice hearing her sisters say these things but she couldn't tell Dean about her less than platonic feelings for him. He was too important to her and she didn't want to lose him, even if it meant she had to get over her feelings. Dean didn't do relationships and she had tried the one-night stand thing and it didn't go well for her. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

As if the universe was disagreeing with her, her phone rang from the counter by the fridge. Lizzie eagerly climbed off her stool again and raced toward the phone, flipping it open.

"Hi, this is Lizzie!" she chirped before gasping excitedly. "Uncle Dean, we were just talking about you!"

"Lizzie!" Julia lunged toward her niece, ignoring her flour-covered hands to grab the phone from her. She pressed it against her ear. "Uh, hey, Dean."

"Hi there, shortcake," Dean's voice was coy. "Heard that you girls were talking about me. Are there gonna be pillow fights next because, if you want, you could—"

"Okay," Julia hurried interrupted him, waving frantically at her sisters as they laughed at the mortified expression on her face. "We were, um, we're making cookies actually, so...yeah."

"And I just so happen to come up in the conversation?" she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

"Uh, yeah, because," she walked out of the kitchen and into the bathroom next door, shutting the door firmly behind her. "I was telling Lizzie that you liked pie instead of cookies."

Dean perked up. "You guys are making pie?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Julia agreed even though they hadn't really planned on it. "So, what's going on down there?"

"Eh, we got some more information," Dean sighed, becoming serious again. "Some kid told us that a guy named Mordechai Murdoch killed his six daughters during the Depression but what Sam found didn't quite match up."

Julia frowned. "Well, what did he find?"

"That the guy's name was actually Martin and he had two sons instead of six daughters," Dean informed her. "There's nothing to say he ever killed anyone."

"Huh," Julia wrinkled her nose. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I talked to the police and there's no missing persons, either," Dean paused for a second. "Jules, we dug like you wanted but we don't think there's anything here."

"Well, that's good, then," Julia said. "No spirit, no dead people, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, on your way back, you can stop in Houston," she suggested. "I, um, I got that NASA tour for Levi, remember?"

"Jules, we can't—"

"Yeah, you can," Julia insisted. "I don't want it to go to waste and you love that kind of stuff, Dean. You and Sam deserve some fun once in a while, you know?"

Dean was quiet for a few seconds. "All right. We'll check it out."

"Good," she smiled. "I'll email Sam the information about the tour and hotel."

"Thanks, shortcake," Dean's voice cheered up a little. "I'll call you later when we head out, okay?"

"Okay, talk later. Bye, Dean."

"Bye."

Julia snapped the phone shut and sighed, pressing it to her chest. She was glad that she got to the phone before Lizzie could spill on what they were really talking about. Dean was already insufferable when he knew they were talking about him but if he knew that they were talking about feelings and sex and all that, his ego wouldn't be able to fit in the Hancock building.

She slipped her flour-covered phone into her apron pocket and quickly washed her hands before heading back to the kitchen.

Before Sam and Dean could even leave town, they got a call from the detective Dean spoke with the day before. The sun was still setting when he called, telling them to get to the Hell House as soon as possible. When they arrived on scene, a body bag was being carted to the coroner's van. The detective informed them that a girl had hung herself in the house, which sounded just like the Mordechai story went.

They went back to the Hell House around midnight and dodged the cops when those nerds, Ed and Harry showed up. Mordechai ended up attacking with an ax and was immune to rock salt, which led them to more research.

Dean sat on his bed, drawing that familiar symbol on the notepad that the motel provided. "What the hell is this symbol? It's bugging the hell out of me," he looked up at Sam, who was researching at the table. "This whole fucking job is bugging me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam said distractedly, focusing on his laptop.

"All right, well, that explains why he went after you but why me?"

"Hilarious," Sam looked away from the screen to scowl at him. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah."

"What's up with that?" Sam shook his head. "And the ax, too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again?"

Dean nodded. "This dick keeps changing."

"Exactly. I'm telling you, the way the story goes..." Sam typed in Ed and Harry's website and pressed enter, waiting as it loaded. His eyes widened when he saw a new article about the Hell House. "Wait a minute."

Dean looked up from his notepad. "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site," Sam informed him. "Listen to this: They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now, he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

Dean sat up as he stared at the symbol he had drawn, finally recognizing it.

"Where the hell is this going?"

"I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started," Dean rolled off his bed. "Come on, we gotta go to the record store."

They entered the record store not long after, spotting Craig at the cash register.

"Hey, Craig," Dean called to him over the loud rock music playing through the store. "Remember us?"

Craig sighed. "Guys, look, I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean waved him off as he stopped in front of the record crate marked with the second letter of the alphabet. "We're just here to buy an album, that's all."

He quickly flicked through the records in the crate and pressed his lips together when he found the one he was looking for. On the back of a Blue Oyster Cult record, he saw the symbol he had recognized at the Hell House.

He grabbed it and slowly walked over to Craig with Sam on his heels.

"You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything," Dean told Sam conversationally, his voice hardening toward the end. "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult. Tell me, Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people?"

When Craig turned around to face him and Sam, he handed the Blue Oyster Cult album to him. He took it and flipped it over, eyes flitting over the cover art, which included the symbol that was spray painted at the Hell House.

"Why don't you tell us about that house," Dean suggested. "Without lying through your ass this time."

Craig looked up at Dean for a moment. "All right," he sighed heavily. "My cousin Dana was on a break from TCU. I guess we were just bored and looking for something to do. So, I showered her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted so we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks."

"Then, we found out this guy, Murdoch, used to live there so we made up some story to go along with that," he continued. "They told people, who told other people, and then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took a life of its own."

Dean blinked at him; something about what he said was familiar.

"I mean, I thought it was funny at first, but..." Craig shook his head sadly. "That girl's dead. It was just a joke, you know? I mean, none of it was real. We just made the whole thing up, I swear!"

Sam nodded. "All right."

As they turned away from Craig to leave the record store, Dean muttered to Sam, "If none of it was real, how the fuck do you explain Mordechai?"

Dean was trying so hard not to smirk as he watched Sam wiggle around in his seat, trying not to scratch at his crotch. While his brother was in the shower, he had sprinkled itching powder into Sam's underwear and now he was able to watch the whole thing unfold right in front of him.

If only shortcake was here, too, he sighed mentally.

Sam was in the middle of talking to Julia on the phone, telling her his thoughts about Mordechai being a tulpa when Dean interrupted him, "Dude, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam said avoidantly.

"What's going on?" Julia's voice came from the speaker.

"Nothing," Sam assured her. "So, these tulpas...There was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard that they brought the thing to life out of thin air."

"Okay, well, there are thousands of people on the internet," Julia said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Sam nodded, wincing as he picked at his itchy jeans. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai and then it spreads and goes online where countless people believe in the bastard."

"Wait a second," Dean spoke up. "People believe in Santa Claus so how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Cause you're a bad person," Sam opened his laptop, still squirming, and pulled up a photo of the sigil that brought tulpas to life. He showed it to Dean. "And because of this. That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was."

On the phone, they could hear a thump of a book and then pages being flipped. "Okay, this book says that the sigil has been used to centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people who are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol and thinking about Mordechai...would that be enough to bring a tulpa to life?"

"It would explain why he keeps changing," Dean answered her.

"Right," Sam adjusted his jeans and added, "as the legend changes, people think different things so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit," Dean stated, choking back his laughter as Sam started wiggling more than he had. "So, why don't we get this spirit sigil thing-y off the wall and off the website?"

"I don't think it's that simple," Julia sighed as they heard more pages being turned. "Once a tulpa is created, they take on a life of their own."

"Great," Dean grumped. "So, if he really is a thought form how the fuck are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, that's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us," Sam showed him the video Ed and Harry put up on their website. "Since they posted the footage, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "I've got an idea but we have to find a copy store."

"What are you thinking?" Julia wondered.

"We're gonna give these boys a story and change the legend," Dean told her as Sam forcefully stood up and did a weird walk to relieve himself. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I think I'm allergic to our soap or something."

Dean snickered as Julia spoke up, "What? We use hypoallergenic soap, Sam."

Dean's laughter increased as Sam did a weird lunge in the middle of the motel room. Sam immediately stood up to his full height and glowered at his older brother.

"You did this?!"

Dean couldn't talk, he was laughing so hard.

"You're a fucking jackass!"

Dean continued to laugh, standing up from his chair to dodge the attack coming his way.

As Sam chased Dean around the room, they didn't notice as Julia sighed, "All right, I'm gonna hang up now."

After Dean and Sam told Ed and Harry about this new legend that they found—in which Mordechai would be killed with a pistol and wrought-iron bullets—and a little prank Sam pulled on Dean—where he superglued his beer bottle to the palm of his hand—they headed back to the Hell House to kill the tulpa once and for wall.

They entered the house with their firearms drawn and slowly walked their way around, looking for any sign of Mordechai.

Dean winced as he tightened his hand around his gun. "I barely have any skin left on my palm."

Sam snickered. "I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole."

Dean pressed his lips together, irritated, and flashed his light straight into Sam's eyes until he flinched. Once he was satisfied that he got some sort of revenge on his little brother, he continued on through the living room and into the kitchen. "So, do you think old Mordechai's home?"

"I don't know," Sam pointed his gun at the door that led to the basement.

"Me either."

Sam and Dean whipped around at the new voice, pointing their pistols in Ed and Harry's faces.

"Woah, woah!" Ed shouted while Harry lifted his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

Sam raised his gun away from them. "What are you trying to do, get yourselves killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?"

Before either of the irritated brothers could say another word, a crash came from the basement door. They instantly went back on alert, aiming their guns back at the door.

"Oh, shit," Ed muttered from behind them, focusing his camera on the action. "Hey, guys, do you wanna—you wanna open that door for us?"

"Why don't you?" Dean dared him.

None of them even stepped closer to the basement door as Mordechai burst through, growling at them while waving his ax in the air. Dean and Sam immediately took their shots but Mordechai didn't falter. It was only after full rounds that he disappeared but not in the way they wanted him too.

Sam and Dean immediately left the kitchen to check the other rooms on the first floor.

"Wait a minute?" Ed said breathlessly. "He's gone? He's gone."

"Did you get him?" Harry asked him urgently.

"Yeah, they got him."

"No," Harry shook his head. "On camera. Did you get him on camera?"

Ed faltered. "Well, I..."

Harry grabbed the camera from him. "Let me see it, let me see it."

He flipped open the little screen but was pushed to the floor as Mordechai appeared, smashing the camera with his ax. Dean ran back into the room after hearing some loud noises and glared at them.

"Hey, didn't you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?" he barked at them.

"Of course we did," Harry answered, getting to his feet as Sam came back into the room. "But then our server crashed."

Ed nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"So, it didn't take?" Ed and Harry shook their heads at Dean's question. "These guns don't work?"

"No."

"Great," Dean sighed and turned to his brother. "Sam, any ideas?"

Sam shrugged; no ideas. None whatsoever.

"We're getting out of here," Harry spoke up.

"Yeah," Ed agreed quickly. "Great idea."

They left the kitchen, only to run into Mordechai again. They screamed and ran for the front door but it was locked and they were unable to get out. They turned to see Mordechai and followed them to the front door and was slowly advancing toward them, raising his ax.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

"The power of Christ compels you!" Ed shouted at the tulpa. "The power of Christ compels. THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU."

Any other time, what Ed was saying would make Dean laugh so hard. But, alas, now was not the time for amusement. Sam ran up to the front door and shouted at Mordechai, getting his attention.

"Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!"

While Sam and Mordechai fought and Ed and Harry ran out of harm's way, Dean found some lighter fluid in the kitchen. He quickly sprayed it all over the floor and onto the cupboards before heading into the living room to spray it there, too.

"DEAN!"

Hearing Sam's shout of help, Dean quickly grabbed a bottle of spray paint and pulled his lighter out of his pocket before running toward his brother and Mordechai.

"Hey!" he shouted at the tulpa before lighting his lighter and spraying the paint at the same time, creating a homemade blow torch.

Mordechai let Sam go and disappeared; Dean grabbed Sam and helped him run back into the living room.

"Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him? We improvise."

He showed Sam his lighter and clicked it out before throwing it onto the floor. The old wooden beams lit up immediately and Sam and Dean took off, knocking down the front door and jumping off the porch.

As they ran into the trees, Sam turned to Dean incredulously. "That's your solution?" he pointed at the flaming house. "Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"Well, nobody will go in anymore," Dean shrugged. "I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well, then, we'll just have to come back."

Sam sighed at Dean's nonchalant answer and turned back to the house. "Kind of makes you wonder," he said. "Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."

Dean didn't answer but he thought about what Sam said as he continued to watch the house burn. It did kind of make him wonder but he couldn't really consider that. No matter if a supernatural was real just because someone believed in them, they were still killing them and saving people.

It was the family business, after all.

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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The Conjuring 2’s Enfield Case: A True Story That Still Haunts Us Today

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Lorraine Warren has seen true evil at the start of The Conjuring 2 and wants to call it quits — at least for a while — but when the Hodgson family finds itself under siege by a terrible haunting, the paranormal investigators have no choice but to help. Set in the late ’70s in the London Borough of Enfield, The Conjuring 2 ticks off many of the same boxes as the original: haunted house, demonic possession, and a relentless pace full of jump scares that doesn’t let up until the Warrens are back in their spooky museum, locking away their latest ghostly trinket just before the credits roll.

And like the first movie, which is based on the real-life investigations of demonologist Ed Warren and the clairvoyant Lorraine, The Conjuring 2 is heavily inspired by a true story, one that captured the attention of British tabloids — and even the BBC — just as Jay Anson’s The Amityville Horror was hitting bookshelves. The film nods to Amityville, the Warrens’ most famous case, in its opening scene, and later ties it to Enfield through the recurring “Nun” demon Valak.

But there was no demon in the real Enfield case but a poltergeist, a malicious spirit that haunts people through physical disturbances such as shuffling things around a room, levitating its victims, or banging on doors at night. And in the film, the Warrens, who tag along with British paranormal investigators Maurice Grosse and Anita Gregory, do suspect a troublesome spirit before the third act reveal that there’s actually something demonic behind the creepy ghost of Bill Wilkins.

The real-life Hodgson family began experiencing poltergeist activity in their Enfield home in 1977. At first, Peggy, a single mother of four, didn’t believe her daughters Janet, 11, and Margaret, 12, when they told her the chest of drawers in their bedroom was moving on its own. But when the chest slammed against the door, locking Peggy out of the girls’ room and forcing her to run to her neighbors for help, she was convinced.

Peggy called the police, and like in the movie, a constable reported that “a large armchair moved, unassisted, 4 ft across the floor,” according to the Daily Mail. The police officers’ quick exit from the house is played for laughs in the film, but a terrified Peggy Hodgson probably wasn’t laughing at all.

The disturbances only got worse from there. The Hodgsons reportedly suffered all manner of strange happenings in the house for the next 18 months, including furniture being overturned, toys being thrown, banging noises, writing appearing on the walls, and even levitating children. In 2012, Janet told iTV (via People) that cups would inexplicably fill with water, things would randomly burst into flame, and that disembodied voices would speak to them, too.

According to Janet, “The most frightening [encounter] was when a curtain wrapped itself around my neck next to my bed.”

Peggy eventually turned to the press for help, reaching out to the Daily Mirror. The tabloid sent a photographer, Graham Morris, to the house to capture the hauntings, and that’s when all hell broke loose. The Enfield case might be one of the best documented paranormal cases in history, thanks to Morris’ disturbing pictures of his visit to the Hodgson house.

Among these images is a photo of Janet being tossed across her bedroom by the poltergeist while her sister Margaret watches in horror. As you might suspect if you’ve watched The Conjuring 2, it’s very possible that the picture is staged, Janet leaping off her bed and onto the floor, but we can only go by Morris’ account here, and he seemed convinced.

“It was chaos, things started flying around, people were screaming,” Morris said of his visit, according to the Daily Mail.

The Daily Mirror and the Hodgsons next called the paranormal investigators of the Society of Psychical Research, including Maurice Grosse and Anita Gregory, along with Guy Lyon Playfair, who isn’t depicted in the movie.

“When I first got there, nothing happened for a while. Then I experienced Lego pieces flying across the room, and marbles, and the extraordinary thing was, when you picked them up they were hot,” Grosse told writer Will Storr about the first days of his investigation (via the Daily Mail). “I was standing in the kitchen and a T-shirt leapt off the table and flew into the other side of the room while I was standing by it.”

Then the poltergeist decided to speak.

As in the movie, the ghost of Bill Wilkins reached out to the investigators through Janet, a raspy voice emanating from the little girl while her “lips hardly seemed to be moving.” The spirit told Grosse and Playfair that it had died of a hemorrhage in the living room. Investigators later confirmed with Wilkins’ son that a man by that name had indeed died in the house many years before, according to Daily Mail.

In the video below, you can hear Wilkins’ supposed voice for yourself:

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There were skeptics from the start, of course, and the debate around the Enfield case continues today. Even Playfair observed in his case notes that Wilkins generally “refused to speak unless the girls were alone in the room with the door closed” and that the Hodgson children were “motivated to add to the activity with some tricks of their own.” Playfair wrote that when Janet knew cameras were on, nothing seemed to happen. But Grosse and Playfair were believers.

Anita Gregory concluded that the case was overrated, and many skeptics accused the Hodgson family of making up the haunting for fame or financial gain. At different points, the investigators caught the girls bending spoons themselves and banging on ceilings with broom handles. Like in the movie, catching the girls in the act seemed to be enough for Gregory and others to close the case.

In 1980, Janet admitted to iTV (via Daily Mail): “Oh yeah, once or twice [we faked phenomena], just to see if Mr. Grosse and Mr. Playfair would catch us. They always did.” Just ahead of the movie’s release, Janet told Daily Mail that only “two percent” of the occurrences were faked.

But what about the other 98 percent? Many other investigators outside of the SPR visited the Hodgson house in those 18 months, including the Warrens. While Ed and Lorraine didn’t have to save the kids from any demonic nuns in real life, whatever they did see while at the house seemed to convince them that supernatural forces were indeed at work.

“Those who deal with the supernatural day in and day out know the phenomena are there – there’s no doubt about it,” Ed said of the Hodgson case, according to People.

Meanwhile, a magician named Milbourne Christopher dropped by to check things out, and said the activity was the work of “a little girl who wanted to cause trouble and who was very, very clever.” Ray Alan, a ventriloquist, said Janet was playing tricks with Bill’s voice because she enjoyed the attention.

By 1979, the tabloids had moved on from the Hodgsons, while the experts couldn’t agree on a logical explanation. Despite the movie’s happy ending, the real-life case was never truly closed. Janet told Daily Mail in 2015 that things began to “quiet down” in the fall of 1978 when a priest visited the house. But the next family that moved in reported strange incidents too, including hearing voices downstairs and encountering a man walking into rooms. They only lived in the house for two months, according to Daily Mail.

Years later, Janet called the events she lived through in that house traumatic, revealing she had a “short spell” at a psychiatric hospital and that she was bullied at school, where her classmates called her “Ghost Girl.” She told Daily Mail that her mother also had a nervous breakdown. It’s not surprising, then, that Janet “wasn’t very happy to hear about the film” being made about the Enfield case, as it dug up old memories she’d hoped to leave behind when she moved out of the house at age 16.

But The Conjuring 2 wasn’t the first to dramatize the events of the Enfield case. The BBC’s controversial 1992 mockumentary Ghostwatch took a rather different approach. Disguised as a special live investigation of a haunted house on Halloween night, the 90-minute program was hosted by real-life broadcaster Michael Parkinson and featured several other TV presenters to lend it an air of credibility. The mockumentary even had a call-in number viewers could dial into to share their own ghost stories.

While the reporters are highly skeptical of the hauntings at first, strange things begin to happen that become more difficult to explain as the film progresses, and Ghostwatch crescendos when the reporters and their paranormal expert realize they’ve fallen prey to a very real poltergeist. The terrifying final scene of the film proved so controversial that the BBC received thousands of complaints after the airing as well as calls from frightened viewers who thought the program was real. The BBC never aired Ghostwatch again, although you can now find it on the Internet Archive. Today, the film is considered a cult classic among horror enthusiasts.

But in the end, The Conjuring 2 and Ghostwatch are just two more chapters in a story that continues to fascinate believers and skeptics alike more than 40 years later. And despite the many attempts to investigate the case or dramatize it, no one but the Hodgsons will ever know what truly happened inside that house in Enfield.

The post The Conjuring 2’s Enfield Case: A True Story That Still Haunts Us Today appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet: click here Tumblr: explore here Genre: Multi-Chapter, Romance, Comedy Rating: M for sensitive language and content

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There's just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women's apartments. Just living the life.

The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight's Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of "My Star Can Dance".

There's another problem: it seems like his star isn't that bright since his partner, one of Fiore's prominent ballerinas, doesn't know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn't notice?

…

Who knows where we're going And who knows what we'll find I want to see the world The way I see a world with you

– A World With You, Jason Mraz

…

The sound of waves crashing against the shore. The smell of fresh, afternoon breeze damping his skin. The feel of sand rushing past his bare feet. Gray took them all in and he couldn't remember a place more calm, peaceful and serene. Despite the crowd scattered around the beach lane, Hoopster felt at peace. But no matter how beautiful the place was, it held no candle to Juvia.

Down the famous beach lane, just a merely ten meters away from the Lockser Mansion, Gray and Juvia walked on foot with him carrying both his shoes and the ballerina's sandals. His free hand held hers, tightly enough to let her know that Gray wasn't letting go anytime soon. Their fingers intertwined, fitting the spaces perfectly like they always meant to be. They walked in bliss as the sun started to descend from its throne. In about a minute or two, the beautiful beachside would be dressed in the golden hour.

Gray looked around. As much as he loved the view in his apartment in the city, the beachside was something else. The boisterous laughters coming from a group of children playing in the water caught his attention. A part of him was screaming he wanted one, maybe two or a dozen, and he'd want them to have the freedom to run around and play at the expanse of that beach.

Not now. Not any time soon. With everything in his plate, that dream was to far for reach.

"It's unfair."

His girlfriend's complaint pulled him out of the thought of chasing little ones around the sand.

"I feel so exposed." Juvia pouted, having spent the day learning about herself and none about Gray.

"Well, I like it." He said, kissing the knuckle of the woman whom Gray had the pleasure of knowing her deeply.

"C'mon." She whined, walking ahead only to turn around and face the man. "Tell me something about you too."

Tit for tat.

Gray stopped in his tracks, pulling a pouting Juvia to a halt. He put two fingers under his chin, pretending to think about what to tell her.

"What do you want to know?"

"I wanna know…" she teased, "if Gray really is this elusive playboy the magazine claims him to be."

"By magazines you mean your collection?" A lone brow quirked up at Juvia's direction.

Blue eyes denied the accusation but there was no more hiding about her secret 'Gray-fanatic' era. Juvia's parents made sure of that. She frowned at him and when Gray pulled her into an apologetic embrace, Juvia couldn't keep the frown up anymore. She broke the hug first and returned to her interrogation as they continued the sandy trail along the beach.

Since her secret was already out in the open, the ballerina indulged her teenage fan-girl self whom she long have forgotten. She seized the opportunity and asked Gray about the scandals imputed to him.

"You fought with a fellow Knight because of a girl."

"False. I would never steal a brother's girl."

Juvia raised a questioning brow at him but Gray maintained his innocence.

"Club 413? End of the 88th NBA Season?" Juvia hinted, hoping it would jog Gray's memory and it did.

"Man, that guy could throw a punch." Gray massaged his left jaw as if receiving the hard knuckle yesterday.

"So?" Juvia tugged at him, asking for further explanation.

"First of all, Jenny gave me those cookies. I only punched him 'cause he ate all of 'em."

"So, you got into a fight with Natsu because of cookies?"

Juvia did a good summary of what went down on that fateful night the Fiore Knight's Team Captain and Vice Captain started a brawl outside the 8-Islands bar. Her judging tone and narrowed eyes made the whole story sound ridiculous.

"Hey! In my defense, her cookies were to die for. And don't give me that look. You haven't had a taste of Jenny's cookies."

Despite his warning, Juvia still rolled her eyes at him with palpable judgment. And here she thought Jenny was one of Gray's great loves.

"Anyways, she actually thought we were fighting over her." Gray kicked a scattered pebble and didn't even look to which direction it went. His boy's laugh mixing with the serine sound of waves crashing with the shore. "Like that would ever happen."

"I can't believe that the only thing that could make Gray Fullbuster abandon the 'Bro Code' is a bunch of cookies."

"Yeah." Gray admitted unabashedly, pausing for a while to do some reminiscing, face twisting in satisfaction. "Next question."

"You'll choose food over me."

"False. I like you more than food."

With Gray, that proclamation carried so much weight, it surprised even him. Unlike with the girls that came before Juvia, however, he didn't feel the sudden need to run away or sabotage whatever it was that was happening between them. He wasn't scared at the realization.

"Mirajane Strauss–"

"False. Never dated her. Although, I admit I did try."

"–I wasn't finished. Mirajane Strauss and her sister Lisanna?"

That was one scandal that got Gray some beating from his own mother.

"False!" He denied with conviction. "You've seen their brother, right? The giant wrestler?"

"But you tried?"

"True." Now he answered with regret. Whilst he tried to score one night at some club where the two supermodels frequented, Gray couldn't get pass through the brother-bouncer. But the twin blondes more than made up for it.

"The Vice President's daughter?"

"False. Although, she did try." The corner of his mouth tipped.

"Then what is real?"

"This," He answered, pulling Juvia against him, "this right here is real."

Gray brushed his lips against Juvia's, tasting salt at contact first before his favorite sweet taste of the ballerina's lips. Then, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, cradling Juvia's small frame against his own. They got lost in the intimate act that they almost missed the reason why they were at the beach. It was Gray who broke the kiss, albeit repentantly, because he wanted to cherish the moment. He wanted to add that memory in the list of his firsts with Juvia – their first sunset.

He spun her around so that they were both facing the horizon. Gray enveloped Juvia in a gentle embrace, pulling her against his chest. Her back was pressed against him. The two stayed in quiet as the sun slowly disappeared.

"You know," he whispered into her ears, "can't help but notice that your questions were all about the girls I allegedly dated." He continued in a tone that teased the bluenette. "Are you asking for my number?"

Juvia swatted his head in denial without taking her eyes of the sunset.

"Don't ruin the moment." She warned. But if Juvia was being honest, Hoopster was right.

Gray planted a light peck on her cheeks before he rested his chin on her shoulders and basked in the beauty of their first sunset together. He heaved out a long sigh. For the first time in his life he wasn't afraid of how he thought he felt. He didn't think about running away from it. He was at peace.

Could it be the scenery? The beach? The cold breeze? Maybe a combination of everything. Despite the beauty around him, his eyes only recognized the bluenette in his arms, staring at the orange sky. Her hair rivaled the pristine waters. Her mellow smile was warmer than the golden hour. Gray was in awe. There was no other way to describe how he felt – happy. Gray was happy.

...

The night brought more revelations. All still about Juvia. It felt like some detective perusing her past and every single skeleton in the closet was being uncovered. She didn't mind watching Gray seated beside her at the dinner table, laughing and listening to her old man about every little information he let slip out.

After dinner, Julian still insisted she and Gray sleep in separate rooms. Juvia had no qualms about it. She hadn't quite figured out where they both stand in the relationship and it was too soon for that. They needed to have the talk but not any time soon. She was happy with how things were and if she was being a little honest, she was scared to tip the boat.

"Hey, hon."

Olivia suddenly appeared at her door, pulling Juvia's attention back to reality.

"Done unpacking?"

Juvia stood from the bed, heaved out a long sigh and as she abandoned the task at hand.

"Almost."

"Gray settling in alright?" Olivia walked up to her daughter.

"I'll check on him after I'm done here." Juvia informed, maneuvering the space in-between her scattered bags.

The older Lockser sauntered into the room and sat on the mattress, tapping on the space next to her as an invitation to Juvia. She gladly accepted.

"I went down the store yesterday to get these."

Olivia handed the young Lockser a paper bag. Juvia didn't notice it earlier when her mother entered the room.

"What is it?" Juvia almost dropped the bag when she realized what was or what were in it.

"I didn't know they had a lot of sizes and… types."

Juvia didn't hear her mother. She was busy fighting and controlling the wave of shame that suddenly hit her. Juvia didn't need to ask what was in the paper bag. She recognized it easily. And Olivia, apparently being the good mother that she was, got enough to last Juvia and Gray a week.

"Mother!" After Juvia recovered from the initial embarrassment, she picked her jaw from the floor and found her voice again. "I won't need these!" She shoved the paper bag back to the surprised Olivia.

It was too soon for that. They haven't even had the talk yet and Juvia wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

"We're not even there yet, mother." She confessed, to Olivia's surprise.

"Huh." Olivia mused. "That's quite surprising. When your dad and I were dating, we can't keep our hands off each other."

Juvia felt the second wave of embarrassment sweep her off her feet.

"The first night we–"

"–I don't really need to know about your first night, mother." Juvia cut Olivia off before she made a revelation that would haunt Juvia to her grave.

The uncomfortable daughter wasn't even sure why they were talking about it. There was nothing to talk about. Gray and Juvia were just not in that place in the relationship. Well, not yet. Juvia stood from the bed hoping her mother would get the idea and leave her alone. Why they were talking about first nights was beyond her.

"I guess your dad and I should just use them."

Good thing Juvia wasn't holding anything valuable and breakable.

"I didn't really have to hear that."

Olivia was just probably pulling her leg with the way she laughed at her daughter's reaction. Juvia had no plans on finding out if there was truth in it though. There were things better left unsaid.

Juvia returned to her unpacking when she heard the light tapping of heels against her floor. As she turned around, Olivia was at the door with the teasing laugh still on her red lips. She placed the paper bag on the tall lamp table near the door.

"I'll just put them here. In case the need arises."

Juvia cringed.

"Besides, I don't think your dad and I would be needing them."

Did she just hint at…

Juvia almost doubled flipped in embarrassment.

"Nobody needs to know what you do in your bedroom mother. My goodness." She shouted after her.

Whatever plans Juvia had to drop by at the guest room to say good night to Gray, she abandoned. This scene right here was going to haunt her for weeks like the 'dancing is like making love' shenanigans.

...

Writer's Corner: DID I JUST FORGOT TO POST CHAPTER 11 HERE?!?!?!!? Please forgive me. Anyways, Chapter 12 is up! #GruviaForever

#gray x juvia #gruvia #she's in your court #siyc #gruvia fanfiction #gruvia au #gruvia modern au #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #modern au #writeblr

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