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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

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Pretty Thoughts {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final mission. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~2700

Warnings: Kissing, Teen Angst

Author’s Note: This is an (un)official Part 2 to Pining in Potions Class. I like writing one shots that could go together if you’d like, but you definitely don’t need to read any other stories to know what’s going on. I love the idea of a clingy Sebastian. Teens finding their first love can feel amazing but they also don’t know how to act. All they know is they want to be with that person at all times.

Songs (if interested):

Kill the Director - The Wombats

Whatever You Like - Single Version - Anya Marina Cover

Wallpaper - Matt Watson

How Long - TALK

You had found Sebastian around you a lot more lately, not that you minded. You enjoyed it, actually. But at the same time, it kept you on edge. Though you hadn’t known the Slytherin for long, this behavior seemed very out of the ordinary for him. When you were first getting to know him, he would be brief and to the point with you, then he was off. He was always prioritizing practicing new spells in the undercroft or going over every book he could get his hands on from the restricted section.

At first, you thought maybe he had a falling out with Ominis, but then you saw them walking into the dining hall seemingly fine with each other. And then, you made yourself paranoid it had something to do with Anne’s health. But to your relief, he updated you on something funny she wrote in her latest letter to him.

Your early conversations mainly consisted of discussing the things he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book, but that was only a small portion of the time these days. More often than not, the two of you weren’t saying anything at all. He was just there with you. Whether it be studying, laying in the grass and basking in the sun, or sitting with you at breakfast going over some last minute homework.

He was getting dangerously close to you lately too. He might not have thought anything of it. But you on the other hand? Your mind went reeling. Every time you were together, he would do something simple that made your stomach dance with butterflies. He’d brush your fingers with his, lay his head on your lap while you laid in the grass, and touch his shoulder against yours whenever you sat together in the dining hall.

It was your final class of the day, and you were barely paying attention, your mind thinking back on those light touches you and Sebastian shared. Looking up from your notes to sneak a glance at him, you found he was already staring back at you. The both of you quickly averted your eyes.

With Professor Hecat’s dismissal, all the students made their way out of the classroom. Sebastian caught up to your side.

“Have to cancel our library session. I need to meet with Ominis. Can I still try to see you later?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes, as if he needed you to confirm he could, in fact, see you later.

“O-Of course, Sebastian. I’ll probably be in the library for the rest of the night if you need me.”

He gave you a small smile and nod of his head. He took a few steps backwards to leave, keeping his eyes on you a moment longer, then he turned and went on his way.

Rubbing at your eyes, you were relieved to be nearly done with all of your homework. It was the weekend now, you didn’t need to worry about finishing it all that night, but Sebastian hadn’t come to see you yet. So you stayed a bit longer than anticipated. It was getting late and everyone was gone except for you and Madam Scribner at her desk at the library entrance.

You’d feel bad if Sebastian showed up and you weren’t there to at least tell him you were done and heading to bed. But if you were too tired, you were too tired. Sebastian wouldn’t be crushed if he turned up and you were gone... right?

You shook the thought from your head and rubbed at your blushing cheeks with the back of your hand. Sebastian doesn’t feel that way about you, he needs to focus on helping his sister. If he wants anything more, he’ll tell you. But then you began thinking about all his small touches again, pulling yourself back into the fantasy.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you knew you needed a distraction. You decided to get up from your table and explore the shelves for another book. Nothing education related, there had to be something in this humungous library that was just meant for enjoyment. Some fictional story to take your mind off of everything.

Aha! You believed you found just the book. You couldn’t quite tell from the cover, but the title was “My Beloved”. That sounded like a romance novel, right? Plucking the book from the shelf and running your hands across its bindings, you made your way back to your table. Not wanting to sit thanks to the lingering nerves, you opened up the book to a random page and read it over to see if your prediction on the content was correct.

You found it was a romance that took place in a small village. Before you knew it, you were engrossed in the story, picturing yourself and Sebastian as the main characters who were in love. You slowly placed both of your hands on the table, leaning on them as you kept reading, forgetting you could sit back down. It’d really come to this, you were so head over heels for him you were picturing the two of you in a romance novel. A dreamy sigh escaped your lips.

“What are you reading?” Sebastian asked, coming up to your side. Your attention snapped to him. He chuckled at your startled expression and very red complexion. “Uh oh, catch you reading something interesting, did I?”

"Um...”, You started, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Your mind was still recovering from the romantic scenarios you were just picturing the two of you in.

Shaking your head and avoiding his gaze, Sebastian took this to mean you were upset with him. His heart sank. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Ominis and I decided to try a new spell and it took us forever to figure out. I was so focused on getting it right, I lost track of time. You’re not leaving soon, are you?”

You gave a small wave of your hand, dismissing his apology. “It’s alright, Sebastian. I got caught up here and... well, lost track of time myself.” You slid the book away from him, slowly closing it, hoping you didn’t look suspicious.

But, of course, Sebastian thought you looked suspicious. He raised a questioning brow at you and glanced at the book.

“What?” You asked innocently, turning away from him and looking down at the romance novel, firing off ideas in your head of how you’d put it away without him figuring out what it was.

“That book you got there. Why are you acting so secretive? Did I catch you reading something interesting after all?” Sebastian got closer, leaning one hand on the table next to the book and peering at it over your shoulder. His chest pressing up against your back. There he went again, giving you the slightest touch and driving you mad. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, intoxicating you. In that moment, you were tempted to yank him close and bury your face in his neck.

He turned his head to look at you for an answer, but you couldn’t get yourself to look back. He was so close, his lips were so close. You could make out his freckles out of the corner of your eye, feel his breath against your skin. Did he know what kind of effect he had on you? Was he teasing you? Your lips were moving to speak but no words would come out.

He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder, prodding you to answer him. “Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

And it wasn’t that bad, at most he would tease you for reading a romance novel. What was holding you back at this point was how nervous Sebastian was making you. As if you weren’t tense enough, he took it a step further and placed both of his hands on either side of you on the table, trapping you in. He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking another peek at the book.

“I never realized how much taller I am than you.” He chuckled, chest humming against your back. Keeping you in place, his callused hands grabbed yours to remove them from covering the title of the book. He held your hands in his while he read it over, then he gave a quiet, amused hum.

You turned in his arms and he lifted his head off your shoulder to meet your gaze. He smiled at you, but it faded when he saw your face.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally facing him, even with how close he was, your desire took over your reason. And, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to be selfish. “You make me nervous, Sebastian.” You told him in a low tone.

He didn’t think you looked nervous at all. Something was written on your features but he certainly wouldn’t call it ‘nervous’. Your eyes were dark and you licked at your lips. It was brief but it caught his eye, seeing a quick glimpse of your tongue made his head race with all sorts of thoughts.

You too glanced at his lips, not caring if it was obvious what was on your mind.

Seeing your eyes shamelessly stare at his mouth, he froze. He was afraid if he made one wrong move, you’d run. He had wanted to kiss you for a while now, and right then it looked like you wanted to kiss him too.

Then you did, and his heart went rapid. He had been convinced you could feel it when your hands moved up along his chest until one snaked around his shoulders and the other rested on his neck. His hands left their place on the table to grab your waist, pulling you closer, holding you in place. His warmth enveloped you.

You pulled away to kiss at Sebastian’s neck and his knees went weak. You kissed around the area you pictured he sprayed his cologne. You took an inhale and breathed out, “I always loved this scent on you.” You kissed at the area one more time, sending a pleasant tickling sensation up the back of his neck. His fingers dug deeper into your waist.

You go back to kissing his lips, which were softer than you had imagined. The way he earnestly moved his mouth against yours ignited sparks in your chest. You had wanted him so badly, and you finally had him there in your arms, on the tip of your tongue, for the taking. One of your hands moved to his hair and you reveled in the feeling of his locks between your fingers.

But the abrupt sound of heels walking along a marble floor slowed your kiss to a halt. Madam Scribner. The two of you were so swept up in the moment you completely forgot other people existed (faculty that Sebastian does not have a good reputation with included).

The two of you left each other’s embrace just as Scribner came into view. Sebastian, hair slightly askew, gave a cough and acted like he was looking over some important papers which were actually your homework pages for a class he didn’t have. All the while, you had managed to open up the romance novel, nodding your head as if you were learning some new herbology methods.

Madam Scribner eyed the two of you while she put away a few books. “Getting late, best finish up before curfew.” And then she was gone, returning to her desk.

You and Sebastian looked at each other, cheeks flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. You bit at your lip and he rubbed the back of his neck. Clearing your throat, you started gathering up your homework and books.

Sebastian watched with an ache to pull you back in and keep kissing you senseless.

“I-I’m sorry I did that. That was selfish of me.” You stammered, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked, returning to your side, thinking through anything he could have done to make you feel this way. You had helped him through so much, if anything he thought he was the selfish one. You came in as a new fifth year with seemingly endless catching up to do and you had to learn how to wield ancient magic on top of that. Yet, he was unabashed in asking for your help countless times, anything to steal you away for himself.

“Well I-I know how busy you are with your research for Anne and I’d hate to be the one who slowed you down just because I-.” You went quiet, unable to finish the sentence, fingers fumbling to organize the papers in your hands.

“Just because you... what?” He urged on.

“Merlin, Sebastian. Do I need to spell it out for you?” You exhaled, leaving to go put away the books you borrowed, him following close in pursuit.

“Please do.”

“As I said,” You sighed. “You make me... nervous.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

Putting the last of the books away, you turned to face him again. “Good, I suppose.” You confessed, barely above a whisper, unable to meet his gaze.

He tried to bite back the giddy smile forming on his lips. “I make you nervous in a good way.” He repeated back, almost sounding proud.

You nodded your head, looking down at your twiddling thumbs, listening out if he would say how he felt about you.

Sebastian glanced over to Madam Scribner, who made it not so subtle she was keeping an eye on the two of you. “We should start heading to our rooms now, I suppose. Curfew and all.”

Your heart dropped, he didn’t say a thing about reciprocating your feelings. Not even a simple “I feel the same.” He must have only been swept up in the moment, enjoying the attention. Perhaps teenage hormones could make kissing enticing no matter who you were with? Embarrassment filled your every limb and you wanted to run and hide. You gathered your things to go.

“Um, yes. You’re right. We should be going.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“No, that’s alright. At this point, I’m asleep on my feet and you must be exhausted too. I’ll just floo and go straight to bed.”

Your rejection took him aback. “Oh. Well, alright then. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Maybe. I’ve got some assignments outside of the castle, might not have time.”

“Well, let me come along to help.” He offered eagerly.

“Don’t worry yourself, just send me an owl if something comes up for Anne. Sleep well, Sebastian.”

Before he could say anything more, you sped off to the library floo, and then you were gone. He was baffled at your sudden shift, everything was going so well. The two of you kissed and you had confirmed you felt the same as he did. He couldn’t believe he could make someone like you nervous. Hearing you say how you felt about him made him so happy he could burst. But then you were rushing to leave, rejecting his offer to help again. He didn’t think he said anything wrong, he barely said anything at all. Yet off you went, like you couldn’t get away fast enough.

He groaned in frustration as he made his way to his room. He had managed to kiss you and he still felt as distant as ever from you. He had never had the courage to outright tell you how he felt, so he would constantly toe the line with his touches. The brushing fingers, laying his head on your lap, sitting as close as he could to you in the dining hall, and now a kiss, all of which you seemed to welcome.

Sebastian laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, going back and forth in his head what your actions tonight meant. You had waited in the library for him all that time, you initiated the kiss, said you liked - no - loved his cologne, told him he made you nervous in a good way, and then you wanted nothing more to do with him. He replayed the whole night and he couldn’t pin down where he went wrong.

He’d have to find you first thing in the morning, before you could leave.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow angst

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mr-president · 11 months

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I think one of my favorite Funtermina things is how it uses characters as narrative foils, specifically in how those characters interact with each other and everyone else.

Karin and Daan’s is the most discussed as it’s probably the most apparent within the text: their volatile opposing viewpoints on life via their upbringings (despite being extremely similar otherwise). When Karin and Daan interact, it’s like a person arguing with themself. They clash like ammonia and bleach, unable to reconcile how similar they are (haha cleaning chemical analogy) yet toxic in their association.

Marina and Levi represent the different realities of Prehevil, what with Marina’s privileged upbringing versus Levi’s absolute shitshow of an existence. And yet, they get along incredibly well and form a cadence with one another because through each other, they can reconcile their upbringings in Prehevil. Levi is the Prehevil Marina tried to escape—Marina is the Prehevil Levi hoped to return to.

Marcoh and Olivia are interesting because—and I will argue this to the death—their relationship is wholly as siblings. And they’re also deeply connected by their relationships with their sisters, specifically how those sisters formulated and defined how they see themselves. Marcoh has done nothing but live to protect his sister, while Olivia has forever lived in her sister’s shadow. Their identities revolve completely around their sisters, and this also colors their relationship with each other as siblings.

I wish it was explored more, but I think there’s a level of disenfranchisement when Marcoh fervently tries to protect Olivia the same way he protected his younger sister (edit: rb for amendment). He clearly sees her in that role, and Olivia’s already got guilt written into her about her disability making her a “charity case.” I say this also because of their different opinions on guns, power, and death: Marcoh has no bloodlust and seems exhausted when he has to hurt others, while Olivia becomes almost jubilant when she receives a gun. And those reactions to enacting violence are directly informed by their relationships with their sisters: a begrudging responsibility vs empowerment.

My favorite is probably Abella and O’saa as foils. As characters they’re probably my favorites, and their foil makes it even better.

Abella easily connects with everyone around her, ensuring that they’re all getting along (or not killing each other) and she tries desperately to help everyone, even at her own detriment. She cares, so much, even too much.

O’saa on the other hand, is the exact opposite. He actively chooses to connect with everyone as little as possible, to the point where you can kill someone in front of him and he won’t give a shit. This is, obviously, to his detriment in terms of his goal towards enlightenment. He cares too little, even if at all.

They perfectly represent the dichotomy between altruism vs selfishness, the mundane vs the macro, democracy vs individualism. Fundamentally, both Abella and O’saa get shit done, and what makes them so compelling as foils is how similar the results of their different processes are.

Both of them are the only two that are capable of saving everyone. Abella does so by interacting with many of the other contestants, while O’saa does this by ignoring everyone and just occam’s razoring that shit. They both get shit done and to the greatest net success, but in both cases, because they operate on extremes, it’s to the detriment of themselves. The game shows this literally because, well, they sacrifice themselves to Logic for the greater good, but the game also implies this detriment via their moonscorches.

Chaugnaur represents how others have reduced Abella to a sexual object for their pleasure or a mindless brute for labor. It is a physical manifestation of how interacting and connecting with others can be to one’s detriment because Abella often cannot control how people see and define her. Mastermind, on the other hand, is O’saa’s brain swelling and overtaking everything else on his head to the point where he is blind (save for the eye) and mute, only able to speak in mumbles. Mastermind is how O’saa values logic, knowledge, comprehension over anything else, becoming blind to other viewpoints save for his own. Additionally, it’s unable to communicate or connect with anyone else, only able to ruminate get never share its thoughts.

Abella is one of the first to Moonscorch; O’saa is one of the last. I love them as foils because even though they’re the most different in terms of anything, they don’t hinder one another at much all. They’re just kinda chill. And this makes sense because their dichotomies aren’t volatile like Karin and Daan’s, nor complementary like the others. Rather, they operate in balance—you cannot be too altruistic without some selfishness. To help everyone and to achieve enlightenment, you must consider both the mundane and the greater picture. Society operates on a shared democracy and on empowering individuals.

Still, the fact that even operating on the extremes has the greatest positive effect (in terms of utilitarianism) really says smth abt whether these values even matter. But I’d argue that they do matter, cause it’s that question of whether it’s worth it to suffer or even sacrifice for the greater good.

As a whole, each foil represents a central theme/motif of Fear & Hunger: internal vs external locus of control (Karin and Daan), environment dictating identity (Marina and Levi), relationships and their impact (Marcoh and Olivia), and the thematic shitshow that is Abella and O’saa.

Tldr; the game is about some girls and their boy best friends.

#fear and hunger termina #i could be stretching all of this and completely delusional but i wanted to do some thematic analysis on funger since i haven’t seen much :#feel free to add on #also for the record i don’t ship abella and o’saa mainly bc abella is a hunky lesbian and o’saa is highkey aro ace to me #they’re like the ‘can u text this for me? oh don’t be too mean tho’ besties if thag makes sense #mr president’s state of the union address #i’ll draw soon trust u gotta hear mh deranged analyses first tho

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mauselet · 5 months

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The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty.

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in.

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath.

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away.

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni.

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes.

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again.

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together.

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around.

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room.

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her.

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear.

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else.

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her.

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back.

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said.

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

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browneyesandhair · 14 days

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Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Polin

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Polin edition:

These Days Will Fade Out by noveltyromance

Summary:

Penelope walked in and inspected the silvery words embedded on her skin. She really did meet her soulmate. It wouldn’t have turned colors if he was not hers. “So he said your words,” she mumbled softly to herself in the mirror, “but you didn’t say his.” It only meant one thing. Colin was her soulmate. But she wasn’t his.

tend my garden by runimpossiblegirl

Summary:

The forget-me-not on Penelope´s upper left arm had appeared when she was just sixteen. [Orinally posted with 5700 words on 31/12. Now updated to final version with 6900 and extra Colin POV on 01/01]

i'll use you as a warning sign by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

The words on his body sound like Lady Whistledown. His soulmate - the person meant to capture his body and heart, his partner and love of his life - ruins lives. Perhaps it makes sense that she’s already ruined his. - Or, soulmate AU where the words you write show up on your soulmate's skin.

i might lose everything if i lose the pain by frankchurchillsaysrelax

Summary:

Based on the prompt: On your 18th birthday you get a soul mark - one that would be identical to your soulmates. Colin is devastated that his does not match Marina’s. Trying to lighten up his mood days later - his brothers teasingly console him by saying that Penelope could get his mark when she turns 18 and that’s when she overhears him say that he would never marry her because he didn't think she's his soulmate. And as is Penelope's life a couple years later she gets an identical mark. Now she plans to hide it because she can’t handle his disappointment.

Give Me All The Pain (Give Me Everything) by wasteddarlinglover

Summary:

Penelope Featherington's soulmate hated her. She was alright with that. She hated him just as much. The only reason for their bond to exist was to bring each other pain. Colin Bridgerton's soulmate gave up on him years ago. He was not worthy of love and patience that their bond required. He learned to accept that and move on with his life. When two broken souls are brought together, Penelope and Colin find hope. Neither one of them can be with their soulmate, but maybe they can build something remarkable together. If they manage to let go of the pain, maybe they could even let themselves fall in love.

All the Time in the World by dontmakemeover

Summary:

All ladies of the Ton are instructed by their Queen to implant a TiMER on their wrists when they enter society at age 16. It is the truest and best way to find a Soulmate, with the TiMER counting down until the first time they will meet. Countless marriages have started this way (with at least a few of them ending the same way!) But Penelope Featherington does not highly rate this technology, for when her TiMER was implanted, the screen was blank. And what's more, she has seen the timer of the man she would like to be her true love, Colin Bridgerton, and knows that whoever her soulmate truly is, his is not her.

Latibule by The_Readers_Muse

Summary:

It was said you would be drawn to your one. That was the only advantage you had.

For the Both of Us by logogram

Summary:

A conversation with Fife and Cho leaves Colin wondering whether Penelope is his soulmate. Unfortunately, she seems to have become stubbornly attached to her gloves.

And So the Yandere Met the Bonnet Assassin by Seaowl

Summary:

There was a reason Violet was so hell bent to see all eight of her children married. The most valuable things to them are their soulmates and the family is told all their life that you are to do anything to protect and keep your soulmate. Lie, cheat, kill, frame, anything is on the table. The family that is so big on love that they become quite possessive of those who marry in, even if it is the soulmate of one of their siblings.

i'm the lock and you're the key by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Penelope is ready to move on. Pining after Colin Bridgerton requires too much energy, too much of her soul. Penelope wants to find her soulmate, but maybe that may not be Colin after all. But… perhaps one last effort is necessary to completely eliminate Colin from her heart and mind. - Or, the “you must sleep with someone to determine if they’re your soulmate” AU.

Would I Lie To You? by LightLeadingMe

Summary:

It has been said and even written that true soulmates cannot lie to one another. They simply were unable to. Not even a small fib could be said to the person. Penelope began to resign herself to the fact that she'd never meet her soulmate, but then she ran (quite literally) into Colin Bridgerton.

Soulmarks by Seaowl

Summary:

Colin has found his soulmate, now he just has to find out who she is.

just let me adore you by TheSushiMonster

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton falls off his horse at age twenty-one and laughs. It’s a full-body laugh, bright and bold and gut-wrenching, as if his soul is finally free. Then he feels a burn across his left bicep, just beside his shoulder and when he inspects his skin, the outline of a detailed feather stares back at him. - Or, now that Colin knows Penelope is his soulmate, he vows to make her laugh in his presence so she can be his too. Or, the role reversal soulmate AU.

#rec list #soulmate aus #fandom soulmates #recs #fanfic #bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #penelope/colin #penelope x colin

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auramgold · 2 months

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On Acht and Romance

going into side order, from the september direct trailer where Acht was first revealed i remember the joke at the time clearly being "and now Marina's ex is here".

the way this line [image description in alt] was written was basically the only evidence for this kind of idea, when the theories were kind of "Marina's order tantrum is sucking people in from her past and the DLC will be about going through her memories", so ellipses in a line like this is basically all theory crafters on no info need to go for shipping.

i'm not one who's super into plot theory crafting, i know full well the tendency to theorize something that's cooler than what you actually get and being disappointed that the story didn't live up to your imagination. the things i was obsessed with in side order promotional material was the obvious bleached coral theme, the symbolism of coral ejecting it that which keeps it safe out of stress being mapped onto Marina, the idea of her pushing those she loves (and those that keep her colorful) away out of a spiral (and it does turn out that was basically exactly what the prologue was going for)

so the whole "Acht and Marina exes" thing was kinda just a joke to me, wasn't even on my radar as something they were actually going to lean into, frankly i was still scared nintendo was going to make them kill pearlina by sending Marina to superhell or smth and we'd end up with a splatoonified destiel meme

so when the DLC comes out and it is legitimately a "they knew each other since childhood" thing, and the running bit is Acht feeling awkward third-wheeling pearlina, and it's explicit in text that one of the reasons they're coming back after the DLC is over is to scope out Pearl as the girl who took down the NILS statue who is now dating Marina... it struck me as really interesting.

at first it was me keeping up the "Marina and Acht are exes" as a joke, but as i kept reading dialogue lines, it slowly became less of a joke, they were to some degree dating because opposite but complimentary autisms, and then drifting apart as Marina got pulled away on the big girl assignment with DJ Octavio, and then the despair of knowing Marina left without even saying goodbye to Acht... it fits well into that reading, it slowly became less of a joke to believe that

but the thing that really makes me think this is intentional subtext is the final Acht diary entry you get from clearing Eight's palette. through the rest of side order talking about Acht's backstory, it seemed like they were retconning the OE lore that Acht had gotten themself sanitized intentionally, losing themself so they could explore their music deeper. but in the final diary, where Acht directly says they drifted into the deepsea metro to fall into their music, because, and i quote

"Hey, Marina. You can guess the chaos your desertion caused. I ended up without much to do except make music. "

they fell into a depression spiral when their girlfriend deserted their society without so much as saying goodbye, falling into their music deep away from interacting with everyone else, to the point that, as the old lore implies, they chose to give up their identity to escape the depression, but sanitization so thoroughly did it that they forget even making the choice.

so when they get brought out of that haze back into being themself again, with the only the barest strung-together horrified memories of what happened in the half a decade interim gap in their life, only to find themself replaced by some inkling they don't know at all, of course they're gonna be awkward seeing the two flirting.

they put on a stoic face because that's clearly their coping mechanism within this damaged body they barely recognize, hiding their eyes behind their tinted glasses so they can't be seen beneath. but the only time they let themself be vulnerable, the only time their eyes can be seen, is when they charge out in the climax when the world is at stake, diving in to try to save Marina, leaving the elevator and its protection behind to help the only person they remember ever caring about.

it's why i don't really like the aroace reading that much, because i think this reading is even more tragic and fits into the themes. the world has changed, it can't go back to how it once was, you can't put the octolings back in the canyon bottle. Marina abandoned Acht to the point they got their identity destroyed willingly to escape the pain, and when Acht came back they were replaced by the inkling whose voice they remember even through the haze of sanitized memories.

the lingering effects of sanitization have changed how they relate to everything (i think there's a fair argument to be made for the idea that sanitization took their gender can't have shit in the deepsea metro), but Acht clearly still cares for Marina and still, the slightest bit, resents having to be reminded repeatedly every time pearlina flirts in front of them how they were replaced.

#acht splatoon #side order spoilers #dedf1sh #side order #splatoon 3 side order #seriously i'm so normal about this you have no idea #splatoon #splatoon 3

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melis-writes · 9 months

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The Other Woman [Michael Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 5 – A Part of The Family.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 4 / Chapter Masterlist / Fanfic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

"Michael cares about you, don't forget that." / "Forget Kay. This has nothing to do with her."

With the Las Vegas gala approaching, you can neither get your mind off of spending the formal evening with the Corleone's nor do you hear the end of it at the Lake Tahoe compound. Growing closer with both Anthony and Mary who've begun to open up to you and enjoy your teaching, your career as the Corleone household's governess thrives and is noticed by Michael and Kay for different reasons altogether. Kay has slowly begun to doubt her parenting skills from observing you whereas Michael is no longer waiting for you to give in but making his first move. In the meanwhile, what you've learned about the Corleone family only further convinces you Michael may be living in Vito Corleone's legacy, but is nothing like the bloodthirsty mafiosi that killed your brothers. Patience between the sexual frustration mounting between you two will take you both to Las Vegas, but Michael intention isn't to be the center of attention at a gala his family his hosting–it's to make you his.

[WARNINGS]: Sexual themes & mentions.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Another chapter is finally here and an important one marking the end of this "slow burn" between Michael and Marina. 🤭💓 Michael won't stop to get at what he wants and he's no longer waiting for Marina to give in because he knows she can't in front of everyone and peering eyes, of course. 😳 Next chapter and onwards will be scandalous and promiscuous Michael's waited until the Las Vegas gala and he's going to make his first move, if it wasn't obvious in this chapter! 😈

Hired by the Corleone family as a governess, you relocate to the Lake Tahoe family compound, looking forward to your future in Nevada until you meet your employer—Michael Corleone. Your future is then ensnared only in lust and forbidden love for Michael since the beginning, and you find yourself yearning for a married man you can never have. Desire and passion clash with one another as Michael takes you to be his mistress—only having an exclusive sexual relationship with you while his sex life with Kay dies out. Knowing from the beginning you’ll never truly be with Michael and that your place in his life is worlds apart from Kay’s as the other woman, the love you have for him consumes you until it threatens to burn out everything you’ve ever had with Michael.

“I know you’re not used to these sorts of things,” Michael’s tone of voice is low and soothing, his words velvety as he speaks them so close to the side of your neck that you can feel his soft breath on you.

Your heart thunders in your chest from arousal and excitement coursing through you as you linger by the doorway of Michael’s office; refusing to step out and away from this man for as long as you possibly can.

“You will be,” Michael continues, taking a step closer to you and standing directly behind you, “as you get to understand my family name and the hospitality the Corleones offer.”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe back, barely audibly as the scent of Michael’s cologne hits you again.

Michael gazes at your back before letting his eyes wander admiringly over your figure, the curve of your hips and the shape of your thighs clinging against your pencil skirt. “Stay by me throughout the evening and you’ll be fine—if it comes to that.”

You give a small nod, slowly turning around to face Michael as you speak to him. “As long as I’m not disturbing your evening.”

You cannot push away the idea of possibly being a burden to the Corleones on such a special evening and social gathering, seeming as if you constantly need to be watched lest you somehow act out of line or do something wrong in front of hundreds of wealthy investors and businessmen.

“Nonsense,” Michael affirms, looking you in the eyes. “You’re not a burden, you’re my governess. You’re my guest.”

You surprise yourself with how you’re able to step out of Michael’s office without stumbling over your own two feet after having that conversation come to an end.

The tips of your ears and your cheeks sting, burning with blush as all you can think is how Michael’s planning to have this evening be tailored to you and your comfort up to the point where he’s picked out your gown for the evening.

As you make your way out of the Corleone estate and back to your living quarters, you remind yourself that even if you think Kay knows Michael’s done such a thing, you’ll keep everything and anything that happens between you and Michael all to yourself.

‘Everything should be fine.’

You don’t think Kay would mind too much but then again as you think it over, the idea of having your husband pick out an evening dress for another woman stirs a bit of jealousy inside of you that you don’t think Kay is immune to herself.

Maybe Kay would look too deep into it; perhaps Kay knows her husband isn’t the type of man to just “pick” out a dress for someone and since Kay knows Michael like the back of her hand and you don’t, the possibilities are endless.

Kay’s mind may first go to Michael being generous and picking out a dress for you simply because you forgot to choose, or he chose a random one simply for the sake of saving time for the order, but if it comes to overthinking Michael’s picked out an evening dress for you because he thought about what color adorns your skin and body perfectly and what he’d like to see you in… It would mean trouble.

There’s nothing going on between you and Michael that you’re entirely aware of for the time being, but even having the slightest bit of a crush on a man like Michael Corleone must absolutely not be given away or told to anyone.

If you let your fantasies and the beat of your heart delude you into assuming something more with Michael, you may find yourself outed to people for trying to flirt and be with a married man who seems all too unattainable to you even if he was a bachelor.

Nobody can know how you feel about Michael; not now, and not ever. You know your heart would be better off if he doesn’t catch onto how you feel either.

All throughout the week, the only thing mentioned back and forth again with excitement and anticipation is the upcoming gala in Las Vegas this Saturday.

Whether you hear it giddily from Kay or Connie whose been carefully curating the perfect outfit for the evening makes no difference; there’s a thrill sparking inside you when you think of attending your first black tie event with the Corleone family that more often than not blends in with the amount of nervousness you feel about it too.

“That’s what I’m saying!” You overhear Kay excitedly exclaiming to Sandra over in the kitchen. “The family has come so far. I’m honestly so proud of Michael, he does so much for us. All that’s mentioned in Reno and Las Vegas in the business is our family name, you know that? It’s incredible how we’ll we’ve done.”

Something tells you however that Michael hasn’t and most likely won’t be giving Kay all of the details about his or the family’s business but if it’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s just how powerful and influential the Corleone family truly is.

‘Michael Corleone is a hell of a businessman and a good one at that…’

The topic of the Las Vegas gala is all the more unavoidable the closer you are to Kay which is consistent throughout the day as you teach the children, quietly mark homework, and take a break while going through some paperwork.

Sandra, Connie, and Theresa both share the excitement and anticipation for the gala, but none come near the unmatched enthusiasm of Kay.

Of course, Kay’s experience is just as incomparable as her excitement for the gala as being Mrs. Corleone has its benefits and luxuries others won’t share or come close to having

Michael and Kay Corleone together are the hosts of the gala and all eyes and ears will be on them throughout the night above all.

“Hopefully we’ll manage to enjoy a good dinner together,” you hear Kay sigh, “I just know the minute Michael arrives, all of his business partners will do anything to get a word in with him first. They won’t want to leave him alone.”

You find yourself blushing at the mention of Michael’s name, no longer catching yourself or mentally scolding yourself for it.

You wish you can be the one holding Michael’s attention consistently throughout the evening as if it was up to you, you would want him all to yourself for the remainder of the event regardless of whose desperate to talk business matters with Michael.

As Kay’s conversation with Sandra fades off onto another subject, you brush the topic out of your mind and continue focusing on your lesson planning for the day.

You ensure you’ve double-checked your planner so there’s enough time in tomorrow’s lesson for enough repetition and homework check, but also sufficient time to introduce a new unit without all of it being overbearing in one lesson.

‘A final little test for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for piano should wrap up this unit before we learn another piece…’ Distracted, you haven’t realized that the estate has gone completely quiet except for a faint giggle coming from Kay.

Blinking, you sit up straight on the couch in the living room—expecting Kay or Sandra to walk in only to see Michael enter a split second later.

Your face flushes a shade of scarlet instantly from the blush stinging your cheeks, watching as Michael himself remains distracted by adjusting his gold watch over his wrist.

‘God…’ Your muscles tense up from arousal as you eye Michael eagerly, letting a swarm of butterflies rush over you at the sight of him.

Michael’s dressed in a wine-red dress shirt with the first three buttons undone, no tie, black dress trousers, matching leather belt, and white socks.

If you’d missed the sight of him for a few seconds longer, you’d have already picked up on his heavenly sandalwood and musk cologne filling the living room only adding to your sexual tension when you see a peek of Michael’s chest hair from his dress shirt.

Michael’s hair appears slightly damp as if he’s showered recently but a light layer of gel shines through his black locks, neatly slicked back and parted from the middle.

It’s obvious Michael has no intention to be dressed for business and professionalism right here and now, but his appearance is still sharp, and cleans up very well.

Just as Michael finishes clasping his watch over his wrist, he makes direct eye contact with you.

Your heart races in your chest as you give him a shy smile back; hoping to yourself out of embarrassment Michael didn’t notice you gawking at him the entire time before he looked over at you.

Only the thought of what it would be like to be held in Michael’s arms, nuzzle his neck to pick up that scent of cologne so close to you before beginning to kiss his warm skin and lead down to his collarbones takes precedence over your mind.

You can’t stop yourself from fantasizing about the man right in front of you, thinking, ‘God, what I would do to…’ You picture yourself unbuttoning down the rest of Michael’s shirt to kiss and lick up his chest; gladly getting down on your knees right away to undo his belt.

Only a brief moment passes as Michael begins to button up his dress shirt at the sight of you for the sake of being professional and not coming off as sloppy although Michael himself would prefer to show you more as well.

Michael gives you an acknowledging nod back to your smile before he exits from the living room, but the scent of his cologne remains as if his presence is still in here and so does the lingering feeling in your heart.

You can practically feel your heart aching and the sensation growing heavier and heavier upon each confrontation and conversation; you can no longer stop yourself from feverishly desiring this man nor do you want to.

‘Stop, Marina. Just stop… You’re doing this to yourself.’

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperately trying to block out any thought and mention of Michael Corleone from your head for just one minute.

‘I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I did this to myself.’

[ 1 Day Before The Las Vegas Gala ]

Having wrapped up your last lesson before the Las Vegas gala, you spent the last bit of your day doing homework review with all your students to start with a new learning unit next week for everyone.

In the morning, you reviewed math and history worksheets with the Hagens and Sandra’s children, then had a private review session with Anthony as requested by his parents before now doing the same with Mary to end your day.

In the Corleone estate’s study room, you and Mary sit side by side at the center study desk, overviewing a math worksheet from earlier this week.

With the evening air setting in and light rain out, you can see the glisten of the compound’s security lights slowly rotating around the estates outside and enjoy the soft sounds of rain surrounding the estate.

“Anthony says it’s easy,” Mary pouts at the worksheet in front of her, looking at the multiplication homework.

“Maybe it’s easy for him, but not for everyone and that’s okay,” you give Mary a reassuring smile. “We all learn differently, don’t we?”

“Hmm…” Mary peeks up at you, feeling somewhat relieved. “All the homework is easy for you, right Miss Marina?”

“You think it is?” A playful grin forms over your lips.

“Maybe,” Mary giggles, shrugging her shoulders. “Because you teach math really well.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, Kay made her way down the hallway and towards the study room just a few moments prior to pop her head in and take a peek as to how the homework review is going, only to remain in front of the ajar study door and out of sight instead.

Kay thinks to herself that she’ll enter the study room at the perfect moment and chime in on the topic of homework to see Mary’s progress face to face but without interrupting your review and explanations to Mary.

“Why thank you,” you give Mary a beaming smile, “I try my best, but believe it or not, I wasn’t very good at math when I was growing up.”

“Really?” Mary’s eyes widen in disbelief, “no way! How?”

Kay smiles, gazing at her daughter between the crack of the door as she continues listening in on the conversation, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“See,” you chuckle, “when it comes to a subject like math, once you know what you’re doing step by step, all the answers start to come to you and they begin to make sense. That’s why when we do multiplication homework like this,” you hold up the worksheet in your hands, “we like to see and write down all of the steps we took to get the answers for these numbers, right?”

“Right,” Mary nods, looking back at the worksheet.

“So it’s all about understanding and learning the steps first. Then you got it,” you set the worksheet back down on the desk, “and you already did so well on this, Mary. I’m proud of you. Even for the questions you got wrong here,” you gesture to the paper, “you tried, you put in the work and all your steps. That’s why we go through them now, right? So we can see where we made our mistakes and how we can correct them.”

“Yeah,” Mary giggles to herself. “It… It was fun!”

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes light up, “it was, wasn’t it? Maybe not so much the whole homework part, but—” both of you burst out laughing in unison. “But the learning was probably the most fun!”

“Learning with you, Miss Marina,” Mary adds, nodding happily.

Kay feels nothing but joy in her heart to see that sparkle in Mary’s eyes speaking for her enthusiasm and how she’s genuinely improving in her math lessons with you then and there.

“I’m very happy to hear that,” you can’t help the growing smile on your lips. “Actually, maybe you’re the first student to say that homework might be a little fun too!”

It’s when Mary exclaims, “Miss Marina is the best!” and gleefully leans in to give you a hug that the proud and joyful smile on Kay’s face begins to fade.

Kay moves her hand away from the study door, watching as you hug Mary back and say, “and you’re the best student!”

It’s not that Kay’s unable to show her own daughter affection or receive any in return—of course, Mary hugs her mother—but it’s the snuggling and the bubbly attitude of Mary’s she consistently keeps up with you and is more than comfortable in your presence is something Kay has had difficulty keeping up with her own children.

Feeling a sharp pain tugging at her and hating herself for letting a wholesome moment between student and governess hit this close to her own struggles, Kay bites down on the corner of her lip before turning back on her heel and walking away.

Mary and you haven’t noticed a thing, and it’ll only be another five minutes until the homework review is officially wrapped up and Mary skips off back to her room to get ready for bed.

As you begin to organize and tidy up the rest of your paperwork remaining on the desk, you hear a soft knock at the door and recognize that rhythm of knocking can only come from one person—Tom Hagen.

“Evening, Marina,” you hear Tom’s voice just a moment after. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” you look back towards the door, greeting Tom with a smile as he walks into the study and quietly shuts the door behind him.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tom says sheepishly, noticing the pile of paperwork over your desk.

“Definitely not,” you let out a soft laugh, pushing the paperwork in front of you toward the corner of the desk.

“Finishing up for the night?” Tom chuckles.

“Something like that,” you turn in your chair to face Tom.

“How do you feel about tomorrow afternoon?” Tom asks, shifting the conversation over to the Las Vegas gala as you expected him to.

Both of you exchange an understanding glance, knowing the conversation would come to this.

“Well…” You open your mouth to answer before pausing and remaining quiet for a moment as you ponder what to say back to Tom. “I can say I feel strongly towards it.”

“Mm,” Tom nods, smiling at the floor. “I thought so, which doesn’t sound like a bad thing coming from you. It is your first time traveling to and attending a gala, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you confirm. “I’m a little anxious about it but excited. You know, I’m sure that same excuse has been made a million times over, so,” you laugh quietly to yourself. “I don’t know.”

“Sure, but that’s normal,” Tom replies back. “It’s a formal gala and this one only takes place every few years, especially on the anniversary date for the Corleone family business in Reno and Las Vegas.”

“Did Michael send you?” You give Tom a small smile, thinking this may just be last-minute reassurance on Michael’s behalf since you don’t expect him to come into the study to talk with you one on one at this hour.

Only a split second later do you feel embarrassment wash over you, wondering why you just asked Tom that.

“No?” Tom blinks in confusion, “I thought I’d come to check in on you.”

“Don’t think me ungrateful, Tom,” you giggle, “I get it. I really appreciate it. I just thought Michael may have sent you because he’s essentially said the same to me.”

“Of course he did,” an amused grin forms over Tom’s lips. “Which is why he’d want me to tell you that if you do have any questions or concerns, Michael would want you to voice it to him directly, not to me or even through me.”

“That makes sense,” you blush, glancing away.

‘If it’s an excuse to see and talk to Michael, I’ll take it…’

“Michael as I can already guess,” Tom rolls his eyes before laughing to himself, “wants you to feel as comfortable and welcome at the gala as you do here. Still think he’s intimidating?”

You glance back at Tom and the two of you stare at each other for a moment before you both burst out laughing.

“No?” you say through your laughter, covering your mouth.

“I know, I know,” Tom holds his hands up in surrender. “I hate to word it that way, but I just had to ask. I know Michael can be when he wants to.”

“Maybe so,” you lean back in your seat, “but I don’t really see it. I’m getting to know Michael better and understanding the kind of man he is as I am with the rest of the family.”

“Good,” a look of relief crosses Tom’s expression. “Then that’s all you need, hmm? We take very good care of our own, Marina. You don’t have to take my word for it,” Tom puts his hands into the pockets of his trousers, smiling at you. “And Michael cares about you, don’t forget that.”

“Michael cares about you, don’t forget that.”

Tom’s words linger with you long after he’s retired for the evening, and only then do they sink in and you find yourself begging your heart not to overthink it again.

Relaxing your muscles against your seat, you let out a soft breath and gaze around the study room, feeling accomplished to have finished your work for the day, planned next week’s lessons upon your return from the gala, and have all of your paperwork in order.

You’ve had a productive day at the very least, leaving you only to think about how tomorrow will be.

You know Esther went to bed early tonight, exhausted from keeping up with the children and you don’t blame her, but it leaves you without anyone to confide in tonight.

You’re still in the Corleone manor’s study after all but until the pouring rain begins to still or at least return to a drizzle, you doubt you can make it across the compound and back to your room without risk of catching a cold and being completely soaked.

‘No rush…’ You nibble on your bottom lip, pushing thoughts of the Las Vegas gala aside to think about tomorrow when it truly matters.

Brushing a curtain of your hair behind your ear, you stretch out your arms and let out a soft grunt as you rise up from your seat—deciding to indulge in a novel for a bit as you wait for the rain to settle down.

You move towards the bookshelves, stopping in your tracks for a moment to look at the sheer amount of bookshelves and selections remaining before you.

There are well over a dozen bookshelves on both sides of the study, placed for ample room so several people can pick and choose from one bookshelf at a time and so the study neither appears looking overcrowded or empty.

On each bookshelf remains small gold engraved labels stating what genre of books are on what shelf, particularly the books labeled under “history” further specifying years leading to language guides, fiction novels, first edition classics, non-fiction, and much more.

You blink at the selection, pleasantly taken back from so many choices that you almost feel overwhelmed at the thought of picking one novel when you could very well spend an endless amount of time in this study if you wanted to.

You walk over to one of the history-labeled bookshelves neatly organized with pressed newspapers, file folders, and leather-covered books next to well-preserved documents when you notice a label on the top shelf reading “FAMILY”.

You pause, wondering if this is a private section and if you should even be touching t in the first place.

Your eyes continue to wander over newspapers and documents on the top shelf as you gently pick through them with your finger so as not to cinch or damage any of the paper.

Starting at the very left side of the top shelf, common sense tells you that if there’s anything on this shelf—let alone in this study—that you’re not allowed to access or see, it wouldn’t be here.

The first few newspaper articles you touch over mention “CRIME FAMILY” with names of mafia families you’ve heard of and those you haven’t.

The names “Barzini” and “Tattaglia” stand out to you first and foremost, with the articles always mentioning the phrases “criminal underworld”, “boss”, or “big shot” to describe what you assume to be top-ranking mafiosi or the Dons of the crime families themselves.

Many of the newspapers you come across are dating chronologically from the start of the 1930s to all throughout the 1940s, consistently mentioning crime, the FBI, cases gone cold, or how the police are trailing them but it’s not until you get to 1946 that shock suddenly hits you.

You pull out a newspaper article with the front page reading: "VITO CORLEONE FEARED MURDERED: POLICE HUNT GUNMEN".

On the left side of the front page is a black and white portrait of Don Vito Corleone—Michael’s late father and on the right side, a photograph of the police and paramedics carrying a grievously wounded Vito in a stretcher.

‘Oh my God.’ You quickly set that article aside to read before finding another following it also dated in 1946 reading “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” next to a third article reading “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER”.

Setting those two aside with the article about Vito Corleone, the next article dated in 1947 you take out reads “THIRD MONTH OF GANGLAND VIOLENCE”.

‘There’s a pattern here…’ Moving towards the end of the shelf, you notice the coloring of the newspapers change—lighter and newer than the old articles you picked out.

Picking out the most recent newspaper placed last on the shelf, you find a blush hitting your cheeks immediately and almost dropping the article from your hands at the sight of a large black and white portrait of Michael himself on the front page; “MICHAEL CORLEONE: BUSINESSMAN THROUGH CORLEONE LEGACY”.

Gazing at the photograph of Michael, your heart rate begins to race in your chest once more—accompanied by a dizzying wave of butterflies.

Taking that last newspaper with the others you picked out, you look out towards the window and continue to hear the thundering rain.

The study door remains closed as Tom left it and you can’t hear any approaching footsteps, but then again you aren’t doing something you shouldn’t be, even if it may be embarrassing to explain to someone why you’re reading all of these old articles.

Funny enough, the recent article of Michael dated a month back would make the most sense, but not the others in your hands that you’re curious to read and learn more about.

“I mafiosi non sono tuoi amici. Ti useranno e poi ti uccideranno.” (Don’t trust Mafiosi as we did. Mafiosi are not your friends; they’ll use you and then they will kill you.)

You remember your mother and father’s warning words to you after the deaths of your brothers as you take the newspaper articles back to your desk to read.

These articles are nothing but mafia territory and an explanation of it; you know very well who Don Vito Corleone was and the legacy behind the Corleone family, after all.

Taking a seat and leaning your arms down on the desk, you begin to read the article “VITO CORLEONE FEARED MURDERED: POLICE HUNT GUNMEN”.

The article reads that Vito Corleone was found shot five times in the chest at close range while he was out with his son Fredo Corleone at a local fruit market.

It’s mentioned that Vito fell to his suspected demise in front of witnesses and passersby near the fruit stand who fled in terror.

Fredo Corleone—Vito’s son and on scene—was reported to be terrified beyond words; in a state of shock, sobbing and helplessly wailing over what he believed to be his father’s corpse.

Fredo was found by the police covered in his father’s blood and pleading with the paramedics and police officers to help.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, disheartened by what you’re reading.

Fredo is Michael’s older brother and you’re bound to meet him tomorrow as well—hearing from Kay that Fredo’s been in Hollywood for the past two months with his wife, famous actress Deanna Dunn who will also attend the Las Vegas gala.

‘This must be Fredo…’ Flipping the page, you see a somewhat blurry photograph of Fredo sobbing on the sidewalk with his face in his hands as Vito Corleone is taken away in a stretcher by paramedics.

The rest of the article continues to describe Vito as a “hot shot underworld gangster”, although such terms aren’t unheard of to you, especially growing up in Hell’s Kitchen.

The suspected gunmen are being investigated—the article states—and Fredo was also hospitalized due to his state of shock.

Lastly, before the article comes to an end, it mentions Vito Corleone is reported to be in critical condition and it’s not certain if he will make it or not.

The newspaper ends by saying this may be the start of violence as you or anyone else reading this article could have figured out since it’s all too common for full-blown mob wars to start when someone chooses to target a Don.

‘That’s a complete declaration of war, but were the police truly investigating?’ You assume that Vito must have had the police on his payroll for that to even take place.

‘And what about “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER”?’ At first glance of the front pages, you don’t recognize any correlation from the two newspapers but from their placement alone on the bookshelf, you know they must be related somehow.

As you read through both—comparing and contrasting dates and events noted in the articles as you go—you realize the dates of each article are just a week apart.

“POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” was almost stuffed between “POLICE HUNT COP KILLER” on the shelf and revealed all of these events occurred within a week of each other.

The articles tell you that at a small, family-owned, Italian-American restaurant called Louis Restaurant, police Captain Mark McClusky was killed.

The article details that McClusky was shot once in the neck and then in the forehead at very close range and that he had been with a businessman named Virgil Sollozzo who was dining with him.

Sollozzo was also killed alongside McClusky; shot twice in the head which is suspected to be immediately after McClusky and both perished together at the dining table.

“My God,” you mumble to yourself, blinking at the headlines.

Naturally, it makes sense to you that one of the Corleone men—most likely a buttonman considering the stakes and killings done in a public restaurant—must have done this.

‘Does it have anything to do with Vito Corleone being shot? It must be. It has to be for revenge.’

When your eyes gloss over the next newspaper article reading “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” immediately tells you this police Captain McClusky himself was directly involved with the mafia and the dates can only further reveal it must have been either for Barzini or Tattaglia.

Those are the only two mafia families you’ve heard of that have corrupted themselves with smuggling and selling narcotics and you can already guess what a wide-scale scandal this headline must have created.

It makes all the more sense why a man like McClusky and Sollozzo would both be killed, especially together.

If it’s one thing you know about the mafia, it’s that they will not kill an innocent person deliberately; considering the mafia family at hand upholds Sicilian mafioso traditions and customs.

Mafia families have no room to appear anything less than decent and proper, lest they risk exposing their own corruption and members to law enforcement and the public eye.

With two shots in the head a piece—just like how your brothers were gunned down—you know Sollozzo wasn’t collateral damage; he was a target just as much as McClusky was.

Picking up the article titled “MICHAEL CORLEONE: BUSINESSMAN THROUGH CORLEONE LEGACY”, you sigh in relief to see the article has nothing to do with the others you’ve read.

Dated just a month ago, the up close and personal portrait of Michael on the front page has your heart racing and begging for you to stop gazing upon it again and again.

Turning the page, you immediately begin to read the article that explains to you how Michael Corleone, son of underworld bigshot Vito Corleone is a successful businessman on his own terms and by his own hard work and gain.

Vito Corleone himself may have been infamous but was also a respected man, and aside from generational wealth, Michael further gained a positive and lucrative reputation and opportunity for the Corleone family following Vito’s death.

Unlike Vito, the newspaper states Michael does not involve himself in bookmaking, racketeering, or other forms of crime found brewing n the mafia’s hand but invests in businesses, stocks, casinos, hotels, and resorts.

The article also names that the most successful and booming hotel resorts owned by the Corleones are the biggest ones in Reno and Las Vegas and that the Corleone family plans to continue expanding.

Michael’s stated to be very successful in all of the best ways possible building off of his father’s legacy, and is also noted to be a multi-millionaire who married his college sweetheart—a woman named Kay Adams Corleone—in 1951.

With the mere mention of “college sweetheart” alone, you find yourself frowning without even being aware of it—once again feeling a sting of jealousy hit you.

Reading past the part that says Michael and Kay have two children with each other, you’re just about to set the newspaper down and organize all of them to put them back on the shelf when you notice you left one article aside without touching it.

The last newspaper you set out has a bold headline reading “THIRD MONTH OF GANGLAND VIOLENCE” and when you pick it up, it details that over three months of violence ensued between the Corleones, Tattaglias, and Barzinis but even the newspaper has worded such “conflict” in a crafty way so as not to state it explicitly.

This article appears to be the next one chronologically dated after “POLICE CAPTAIN LINKED WITH DRUG RACKETS” and stresses that a bloody mafia war has cost the families in lives and millions with no sign of stopping or being sidetracked.

It’s only when you reach the very end of the article do your eyes widen in shock as you clasp a hand over your mouth.

The last bit states the eldest son of Vito Corleone and his protegee—Santino Corleone—was assassinated by what is suspected to be the Barzini family.

“Jesus…” You remember Tom briefly mentioning Santino, his, Fredo’s, and Michael’s eldest brother but from the looks of the article, it’s very apparent to you that Santino was a full-on mafioso and completely involved in all activities of the family.

You know you should have no pity in your heart for the death of any mafioso, but you can’t help yourself but feel empathy for Santino Corleone’s death even though you’ll never meet him or understand the man he was behind his criminal activities.

‘He was a Corleone too, after all.’

Finally setting down all of the newspapers before you in a neat pile, you take a deep breath and rub your sore eyes.

Your gaze meets up with the locked door of the study once more as you mentally remind yourself that you’re not doing anything “wrong” or “snooping” but that what you just did actually benefit you in learning more about the Corleone family on your own terms.

Everything you’ve just read may have explained the bloody mafia history behind the Corleone family name amidst others, but nothing shows you Michael is or was ever involved.

The article revolving around Michael practically sings of his praises, saying Michael is a young, witty, and cunning businessman who holds the reigns of the Corleone family and leads it to success.

Yet again, you have no second thoughts about Michael, no doubts in your heart about his integrity or honesty and you believe and trust in Michael to be a good person.

You want him to be and you trust him to be, just the way you trust Michael to show you that side of him to you tomorrow.

[ Next Morning ]

With the excitement ringing through the compound coming from the Corleone women up early to have bodyguards and chauffeurs begin packing their bags, you momentarily went into a panic thinking you must have slept into the afternoon.

Recognizing it Sandra, Connie, and Kay’s anticipation put them in a rush to get packed and ready, the first thing you do in the morning after refreshing in the bathroom and pulling on a simple shirtwaist dress is putting your one piece of luggage outside and next to Kay’s three to be loaded into one of the cars.

By the time you’re out to set your luggage down, Kay and the others are back in shouting hairstyle and makeup suggestions back and forth to each other to get it all done before the afternoon.

You smile to yourself, turning around and squinting your eyes up at the warm sun soaking over your skin. You know you won’t be spending half as much time getting glammed up for a plane ride to Vegas and that you’ve got ample time in your day to get ready.

Just as you’re about to turn back on your heel and head back to your living quarters to properly begin to get ready you hear Michael’s velvety voice calling for you from behind.

“Good morning, Marina,” you hear Michael speak as you stop in your tracks and suddenly you feel almost bare and hardly semi-presentable before him.

‘Oh my God.’ With instant reaction, your muscles clench from arousal in the presence of Michael—eagerly gazing at the new tailored, three-piece, black and silk Italian suit he’s wearing; black silk tie and gold cufflinks.

Michael’s hair is gelled back and parted through the middle neatly; not a single hair loose nor a wrinkle in his suit with all the awareness you’re not able to get your eyes off of him even if you wanted to.

“I hope you slept well,” Michael’s eyes meet yours as you turn around to face him; briefly admiring your natural beauty under the glowing rays of the sun.

‘This man… I swear.’

“Michael,” you breathe back, smiling at him. “As well as I could. I hope you have as well.”

Michael gives you a nod before gesturing his hand towards a bodyguard approaching from the other end of the compound, pointing towards your luggage in specific—not Kay’s or Connie’s.

“Thank you,” you whisper to the bodyguard who gives you an acknowledging glance before taking your luggage to pack next.

“It doesn’t hurt to be proactive and pack for this afternoon, however,” Michael glances back towards his and Kay’s estate. “Rest assured we’re still leaving at our planned time; no sooner, no later.”

“Right,” you chuckle. “I was just going to head back and get ready my—”

“ANTHONY! Anthony!” You hear Kay cry out from the estate in a hurry. “Sweetheart, don’t forget your tie! It’s not put on right! Come here, please.”

“Well,” Tom’s voice chimes in as he exits from the Corleone estate. “At this rate, we’ll all be ready by the afternoon. Hi, Marina.”

“Hi, Tom,” you give him a small wave, “are two cars taking us?”

“That’s right,” Michael nods.

“We might actually be back in three if…” Tom cringes, giving a short shrug. “If Fredo is bringing Deanna back to stay with us for a bit.”

Although you can tell Tom is more than just mildly irritated by the idea, you see Michael’s expression hardens at his suggestion but he doesn’t react further.

“Not something you look forward to?” You break the momentary silence falling in between you three.

“Uh,” Tom scratches the back of his neck, “I suppose not. Miss Dunn can be a handful and well, so can Fredo sometimes. You’ll see.”

Michael takes a step closer towards you before you three look back up towards the Corleone estate to see the front door burst open and Anthony snickering, rushing out with a loose tie over his neck and a helpless Kay following after him.

“Anthony, seriously!” Kay huffs, “Anthony, this isn’t funny! Get back here!”

‘Ah, Anthony…’

You notice as Tom grins and gestures towards Anthony. “Kid’s full of energy, what can you do? I’ll get him for you, Kay.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Kay sighs in relief, looking back over at Michael who redirected his gaze to yours almost immediately.

“Marina?”

“Yes?” The scarlet blush over your cheeks deepens.

“Walk with me,” he gestures, turning his back on Kay and the estate.

Nodding, you walk up closer to Michael and remain by his side as he leads you away from his estate and further back toward your living quarters, barely having acknowledged Kay in the midst of all that.

Kay blinks in confusion, watching Michael and you walk away together but from the exhaustion of keeping up with Anthony and hearing Mary calling back to her whining a bow fell out of her hair, Kay can’t keep her thoughts straight and think much else of it.

Michael doesn’t need to pull you away or talk to you privately, he simply prefers to.

“You’ve packed everything you need?” He finally asks you once you’re both away from anyone else’s hearing distance.

“Mhmm, everything’s good to go,” you reply back.

“There will be something else when you arrive at your hotel suite in Vegas,” Michael tells you.

“Something else…?” Your eyes begin to widen with curiosity.

“You’ll see when you get there,” Michael makes direct eye contact with you. “Kay tells me you have everything you two ordered…”

‘Ordered. You were the one who picked out that dress for me…’

“It’ll be ready in your suite as well when you arrive.” Michael finishes his sentence. “That’s all.”

‘What?’

“Right,” you nod back—the smile on your lips growing. “And thank you again for that, Michael. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You can thank me by wearing it,” Michael replies—surprising you with his response instead of saying “You don’t need to” or something similar when he hears you thanking him again and again. “I want to see you in it tonight.”

“Of course…” From Michael’s words alone, the arousal pumping through you feels as if your pussy has a heartbeat of its own despite your mind begging you not to take Michael’s words the way your body craves to.

“Is there anything else I can do to make your experience more comfortable?” Michael asks, putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers as you begin to approach your living quarters.

“I’m sure there’s a million more questions I’d like to ask but none of them come to mind,” you admit, sheepishly. “Knowing me.”

“Then as I’ve requested, stay close with me tonight,” Michael comes to a stop, facing you. “And then I’ll know.”

“I…” Blushing furiously, you give your head a small shake. “I know we talked about this and—”

“We did,” Michael reaffirms. “But I’m no longer suggesting it or offering it to you. I’m asking you to do it.”

“Wouldn’t Mrs. Corleon—”

“Forget Kay,” Michael interrupts, looking sternly into your eyes. “This has nothing to do with her. I want you there with me tonight, understood?” With your heart beginning to pound in your chest, you hardly have a moment to reply back to Michael before he adds, lowering his tone to a soft, ushered one, “Knowing you, I don’t know where else you’d want to be.”

#the godfather #al pacino #michael corleone x reader #michael corleone x oc #michael corleone fanfic #godfather au #michael corleone smut #michael corleone x reader smut #michael corleone #the godfather x reader #godfather x reader #the other woman fic #the other woman fanfic

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ablobwhowrites · 8 months

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Can I send a Splatoon request (m/n) is a Octoling male idol and everyone is crazy yandere for him.anything about him will be gone in seconds, like (m/n) merch gone,concert tickets sold out etc..

Life is good, being apart of deep cut after marina and pearls final splatfest. M/n was the fourth member of the deep cut as he was friends with bigman and he was able to get m/n in the group plus shiver and frye loved having m/n around. Having a unique made m/n stand out a lot like with his hair being similar to Marina's but just more short like her old hair style. Plus luckily everyone thought m/n wears some kind of eyeliner and many things about him being different than other octolings on the surface but shiver tells everyone that m/n is just a different species of octolings probably from another city away from here.

M/n sighed after the camera turned off for today as the director yelled "all right everyone where on commercial break!" Frye looked at m/n seeing him look down a bit "you okay m/n? Your not all happy like you are usually" frye said looking to him as shiver looked at frye then m/n as m/n quickly sat up straight "oh! Nothing, just thinking about things really. Just woke up on the wrong side of bed" he laughed a bit trying not to worry the three "well you can tell use anything if you need anything off your chest" big man said with the screen he holds turns off for now as m/n sat there in silence for a few seconds "no I'm good....just going to go to the bathroom" m/n said as he got off the stage and walked away to backstage into the hall, but not going it the bathroom but just leans on the wall and going in his phone.

Then when to splatagram (work with me here, I don't know many Splatoon canon apps) many post of some ads, inklings showing off food at restaurants or food trucks, but then m/n stops scrolling and sees a tag that caused m/n to raise his brow "fanclub? I didn't know I had a fan club....I thought shiver, frye and bigman or anyone else had fanclubs.." he said to himself as soon as he clicked the tag, a boat load of post ranging from inklings to octolings even others from far away not even in this city. It was terrifying to m/n seeing so many things about him and the merch that he didn't even know existed of him, plushies, shirts, pants, hats, figures and so much more "I never made these brand deals?! How is there so many!" M/n then was panicking not from the people who loves him cause he just tried to make himself thing it's just everyone supporting him, even making himself think it was all just a phase everyone was going through a obsessive phase but the slim chance that dj Octavia could find this, he could get kidnapped like Callie that one time, he could be brainwashed, so many terrible thoughts run through his head thinking of so many things that could happen if he was found out, would he be sanitized? Just like all his friends to be his mindless killing machine if he's taken back? M/n screamed as he felt something touch his shoulder as he quickly turned to see who was it that spooked him so bad and it was just the jellyfish intern "mr.m/n, where about to come back on soon" the intern said as m/n's heart was still racing "right...right, tell them I'll be there just give me a bit to um...just get myself ready" m/n told the intern as they nodded and walked back to the studio to tell them which has m/n all alone again "your just paranoid, nothing bad can happen...dj Octavia won't know, even if he does marina is a long ways from here so she's safe and Octavia wouldn't do something that ambitious" m/n said to himself as he turned off his phone and walked back to the studio with his head held up high hoping this might be a good week or even a good year.

"sir! We found something you might like" a elite octoling said as she held what looked like a small keychain, it was shiny and had the picture of m/n on it, in pastel colors seeming happy with the other side having his 'friends' all with him and all looking happy, DJ Octavia was silent, he was taking in the details of this keychain pictures "m/n is on the surface...just how marina is" Dj Octavia said as he took the keychain onto his tentacle and examined it, the underground felt so empty without m/n around. The small splats of colors on the walls or just anything that was colorful he could put anywhere, the small city's of the octarian underground loved the small splats of colors, any kind it made the underground feel less gloomy but after DJ Octavia's defeat in inkoplis and that damned squid sisters music that Octavia hated so much, salt in this wound those agents gave him taking away power to the city and then now this, Octavia felt humiliated that the only octoling soldier that made the situation of the octarians being under ground feel a bit less gloomy and just less of a hell hole was on the surface cause of the now lazy inklings and the octoings that managed to get on the surface now having audacity to rub this in his face just saying to Octavia that m/n was theirs now, it made Octavia livid that his m/n and only his m/n is now on the surface, his tentacle gripped the keychain in his tentacle until a crack was formed on the sides and his grip loosened. His gaze goes back to the elite octoling soldier "bring m/n back here, no matter who you have to hurt, no matter what you have to do, bring m/n back here" Octavia said the soldier nodded and was about to go get some of the other octolings to get ready for this mission "wait, take this" Octavia handed the soldier a pair of glasses, the same ones callie had on when she was kidnapped here "it'll make it more simple but these ones will make sure m/n won't be able to fight back so easily" Octavia said as then he waved his tentacle to dismiss the soldier, the elite octoling walked out to tell her team the new mission now with the hypno glasses in hand...to be continued

(I hope this is good, I've been trying to work on my writing more)

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dogtoling · 2 months

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Tbh ever since I saw a post mentioning it I'm wondering....why has no one questioned Marina for making the tower how it is?

Obviously I'm NOT talking about order/smollusk, that was a freak accident she can't really be blamed for. But like....why (potentially) make it an endless battleground? I get the logic behind "repetition is good for engraining things into the brain" but really? Making the sanitized octolings fight more to regain their memories after managing to get out of the metro? Why not pick like....a rhythm game or something considering how important music is in inkfish culture/how the calamari inkantation seems to be able to snap people out of trances/bring them back to themselves

This is a good question! And it actually has an answer which is that Marina didn't make it like that. As far as I remember there's a piece of elevator dialogue where Marina reveals that the Jelletons actually used to look cuter and were meant to be more like staff that assist you with the tasks along the way, so I assume the tests itself would've been the 8-ball, tower, zone variety- type repetition, but without the part where fish try to kill you the whole time - and we know it was presumably supposed to be like, just the 10 floors. It was Order that hijacked the tower and turned the Jelletons into what they are, and we don't know for sure what they looked like or would've done exactly... I have to wonder if the creatures in the Square are uncorrupted Jelletons? We don't know.

Anyway point being it wasn't INTENDED to be a battleground at all to my knowledge. However... with the ending of Side Order and them just kinda leaving Smollusk there? It kind of feels like they're just intending to leave it to be a battleground which is WEIRD. We don't know if Marina managed to talk things through with Smollusk after the final events of Side Order and turn the spire back to how it was supposed to be, and we just don't see this because of course it's meant to STAY replayable for us... but it kinda doesn't seem like it, so it's just weird lol. It should've absolutely just been a rhythm game.

#mailbox #side order spoilers

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xmortuarykittyx · 6 months

Text

Ever Locked

Part 5: Now You Know From What

Part 4: Good Night, Bunny

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of eating out, build up to enjoying trauma and being stalked

extra: i’m so so so so so sorry for the wait! it’s been insane and this job is killing me. I really can’t wait to find another. I’m still livid i lost my original chapter 5 :( I promise i’m gonna be back to writing, at least one chapter a week since i’m working 10 hour shifts a day for 5 days a week.

"So...", green eyes stare back at me as the hands of the waitress move from my vision. "So?", the warmth of the coffee cup is nice against my hands, the rain and near negative degrees having frozen my fingers as i stretch them against the warm cup. "Don't pull that shit on me.", the deadpan delivery nearly had me snort out coffee as her emerald eyes squint. I had no plans of telling Marina anything, nothing about the man from the bar. Nothing about the years before I came to Seattle. "He really unnerved me is all, asking about me and saying we dated. I never saw him before-", the sharp laughter from her voice in reply to my words had me jump, the liquid bit back at my bottom lip, causing me to wince.

"Don't believe me? Ask Ryan.", I nearly rolled my eyes at my best friend. Her lack of trust was not for no reason, but she just needed to drop it. I didn't want to bring her into the world of Leon Kennedy and the undead, it was hard enough having seen it first hand.

She'd just say it was insane sounding or that i must be lying once more. There seems no real way to get out of this but tell her but i truly did not want to. If it were up to me, Ryan wouldn't even know. With relationship came time to come clean, telling him in detail how my ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old ex treated me and the night that lead up to my old home being burnt to a crisp in a bombing.

"I will not, he'll lie to cover your ass. You're that kind of couple.", her tone was not friendly, her accent heavily German, as she took a bite of her eggs. Her eyes narrowing into mine, i could tell just in that look that she was over having to be left out of a good part of my life. She asked to get breakfast out, How could I say no? "You don't trust me and that's starting to upset me.", she continued, cutting another piece of the white fluffy eggs. "It's not that, Marina." the sigh that left my lips heavy and present within our conversation. "You're wonderful and so, so generous. You started hanging with me since day one at White Wolf, I could never not trust you.", the words came out so quick before i could process them. Yet, here i sat, lying to her face. How could she handle the horror that came? Anyway... it's not like Leon is that stupid to try something so many years later, right?

Blackness swirling across my vision, fingers digging into the hallows of my eyes. "I just need to quit attracting all the weirdos and psychos.", a dull bit of laughter fell from my lips, into the tense air that swam around us. "Hey, at least you've never been on a Dateline episode.", she shrugged, if only she knew how close I truly was to having my photo slapped across tv screens across the country, all the "she lit up the room when she walked in" bullshit. "Yeah, you're right.", the words felt a bit more... distanced than before, it seemed the normality crept away after seeing the blue eyes of an angel of pain.

The sound of my phone buzzing brought me back to reality, carving out a piece of waffle, the phone near my grasp as i reach for it. "Anyway, what time do you-", the number that flashes across the screen attached to the message was unfamiliar, the slightly blurry letters mumbling out a 'Bunny... i know you're angry with me, but give me a chance. I was only protecting you and now you know from what.', i felt like the back of my throat was kissed with acid, the hand holding the fork tightening as my brows pinched together. "Hey- earth to weirdo-", Marina's voice came back into recognition. Her laughter cut off as she realized my look of confusion hadn't changed. "You good? What happened?", her fingers wrapping around the glass of her cup, bringing it to her lips as she sucked from the straw.

"Someone texted the wrong number is all.", my eyes lingered on the glass she held before i looked up at her. "That's common right?", she nodded, "Why do you look like you saw a ghost?", did i really look that upset? My fingers gripping the Razr tighter, "They just said some weird shit.", my hand waved her off as i looked back down at the waffle before me, soaked in with syrup and butter. "You need to relax, honestly. You're so strung up over that guy from the bar and it's ridiculous. If you're being honest then he's just some fucking creep who doesn't want to keep it in his pants.", she shrugged, "simple as that.", and how i wished her words weren't more then a hopeful thought. "You're right, you're right.", i concurred, the waffle being stabbed by my fork before shoving the sickly sweet bite between my lips. The sticky, thick heavy taste of syrup carving its way between my taste buds. I could feel a drip, dribbling from the corner of my lips as my phone goes off once more.

'If you'd gone out with me, I'd love to taste that drop of syrup. You should be more careful, Bunny. Don't wanna stain that pretty black shirt, it's so pretty from the back.', my eyes now widened, feeling my pupils bug out from my head as i snap my head around, searching for the brown scruff or the blue eyes. "Hey- you're acting hella weird, girl.", Marina gave me a 'the fuck is wrong with you?' look. My eyes didn't stop searching for the man himself as I knew he had to be here, somewhere. He was a bold bastard, he knew how much this was bothering me as i got another text. 'Aw, searching so hard for me... i'm not easy to catch, Bun.', the sound of a motorcycle revving up caught my ears, snapping my eyes through the window to see a black leather jacket with white pin stripes. Mother fucker- that's him. That's the same jacket he had at the bar. That fucker was watching me.

I had half a mind to hop up and chase down his ass but that would accomplish nothing more than give him more of an opening to my life. He slipped the black helmet over his now brownish hair, fingers clicking through buckle in place as he revved up once more, taking out of the diner parking lot and heading back deeper into town. "Hottie on a bike- you have a boyfriend, miss thing.", Marina joked as i tried to crack a smile for her. "Yeah... just interested in the bike is all.", my words weren't the strongest but i giggled to give her more of a confident answer. The waffle now half eaten as i ran my fork over the pooled up brown amber liquid. "The bike?", her scoff was humor filled. "Yeah, sure and i'm interested in seeing anything as long as it's under a hot man.", she laughed as her explicit meaning was caught. My eyes rolled back as far as they could before i leaned over the table once more. "Shit up and eat your eggs before they get cold from all your talking.", i pointed my fork towards her plate as she poked my fork with hers. "You do the same, been on that waffle for 30 minutes now.", this is why we were best friends, her attitude rivaled mine but in the best way possible.

——————

"You're sure it's him.", I didn't see Ryan much at work, usually just at home or at a restaurant for his breaks. "Yes, i'm sure.", my arms crossed tightly under my chest, his eyes flickering to my tits before back up at me. "You said his name was... Leon...", he snapped his fingers, left hand on his hip as he tried to recall the creeps name. "Leon Scott Kennedy.", my eye narrowed, it seemed everyone had a great 'let's piss her off all day' meeting yesterday. "Right, you still got the test and the number?", he reached out for my phone, his large fingers brushing mine as i passed off the flip phone to him. "Yeah, just- hurry up and get back to me about the restraining order.", my hand fell to my hip. "I don't know if he's going to try anything but just knowing that he was watching me at Benny's.", a shiver ran up my spine at the thought. What if he came into our home? What if he had been watching for longer than i thought before?

"I promise, my love-", his lips pressed to the crown of my head, "-you're my priority at the moment.", he squeezed on my bicep, opening the flip phone and reading the message. His hand gripping the phone in a grip so hard i thought he’d snap the device before he handed it back to me. His hands pulling up his slacks before he wiped at his nose, eyes on the floor before he looked up at me. "You tell me as soon as you get another message. I don't care where you are or if he's watching. Call me and tell me.", he pointed at the phone in my hand. I knew his jealousy had a mean steak but this seemed to tip him off harder than before as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"He like that when you were together?", it was rude, his tone asking and demanding an answer rather than the sweet one usually used to not push her. "No... he was shy back then and a little unexperienced.", i'm not sure why i answered but i did, just to make him feel better. My words seemed to have the opposite reaction of deescalation to escalating the entire thing- before i knew it, my back was pressed to the top of his desk, papers and cups falling over the other side of the mahogany desk. "He didn't know how to treat a pussy as good as yours.", his words came quick as he snatched the joggers off my legs, the wet patch across my underwear definitely not from seeing Leon on that bike from earlier. Something has to be wrong with me... to get so turned on from my psycho ex stalking me.

"Pussy's so wet f' me.", his lips pressed a kiss onto the soaked gusset of the pink underwear. "So soaking wet, don't even gotta ease you up, bed you could take my cock right now.", has i know jealousy was the one thing to break the man- i would've told him more about the men at work. His tongue danced across the gusset, drawing small photos as he teased. "Ry-", my lips bit between my lips. "Be quiet, slut.", he scoffed, his fingers ripping the pink fabric before his pointer and middle fingers tucked the material into the parting of my lips. "Dont need all my coworkers hearing your whore mouth. They'll try to get in this pussy too, you'd like that wouldn't you? Pussy so full of cocks, that's why you didn't tell me about your ex, right? You wanted all day to come to me and tell me he was watching you. Bet he likes to watch you shower too, see you fingers that cunt-", he breathed onto my wet slit, causing a shiver to crawl up my spine.

I know that i shouldn't be turned on by thinking about Leon Kennedy, especially after all the shit and trauma he put me through, but some trauma's manifest themselves on weird ways- mine being i am always turned on by the things he did. That's why i stayed those days... maybe he's not the only fucked up one. Maybe he fucked me up, made me some stupid, small girl. Made me conform to what he gave me... in that little of time, he conditioned me to his type of affection and god- did i love and hate it.

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absgay · 1 year

Text

“I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night, and now I see daylight.” (part one)

words count: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ ptsd, friends to lovers, angst, smut, death, owen, violence, fluff, grammar, idk tbh. (she/her pronouns) writing for fun!

summary: friends don’t look at each other this way, do they? You couldn’t stop thinking about her, things will never be the same.

part two,

• “Please— No.” you thought, as someone walked in. You couldn’t fight anymore, couldn’t even move from the ground. You didn’t know what to do or what to say as a stranger approached you, quietly and armed. He looked nothing like them. “Are you okay?” You breathed in and out, trying to remain calm as your hands were still shaking from the attack. You looked at their bodies, just laying there, bloody and almost unrecognisable. “I’m Owen.” he said. “What’s your name? What happened? Are you hurt?” You remained silent as the man kneeled next to you. “They killed them. They’re all dead, they’re gone, and it’s all my fault.” You trembled as the words left your mouth. Owen sighed and touched your shoulder. “Okay…” he hummed. “Hey— Look at me, you’re gonna need medical attention, you’re bleeding. We need to take care of these wounds.”

• “Wait— Who’s that?” Abby asked. “I’ve never seen her before. I thought Isaac didn’t allow any new members at the moment.” She looked at you from across the room as you stood next to others, visibly intimidated by the crowded hall. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Nora said. “Owen and Danny went on patrol last week and found her. Owen’s the one who heard the attack as they were driving near the marina. Apparently, she wasn’t alone, she was travelling with a few other trespassers but they got attacked by Scars.” Abby nodded. “From what I've heard, it was pretty violent. She’s the only one who made it.” The tall woman stared at you, intrigued. “She was in shock when he found her.”

• “Fuck me.” you murmured to yourself, the words directed to your insomnia as you turned around in bed, staring at the ceiling, once again. You walked towards the library, enjoying the calming atmosphere as the stadium didn’t feel as loud and overwhelming as it usually did. During your last conversation with Whitney, she had mentioned the library as you talked about your sleepless nights with her. “It could be nice, it could distract me.” you thought. And as you walked in, you weren’t expecting to see anyone there. You wandered throughout the alleys, looking at the different sections as you searched for the right book. “Who’s there?” someone asked, the unexpected question giving you chills as you turned around and gasped. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Abby chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” The blond woman was laying down on the bench, a book in hand. “I— It’s okay, I was not expecting to see anyone here at night.” you sighed. “I’m Abby.” she said. “I know.” you chuckled, nervously. “I mean— I heard about you, I’ve seen you around and,” Abby smirked as she sat down. “Everyone is always talking about you, somehow. It’s pretty admirable, even intimidating.” Abby scoffed and shook her head. “What are you reading?” you asked. “The Great Gatsby.” Abby answered, glancing at the book resting on her thighs. “Insomnia?” The woman asked. “Yeah…” You turned back to the bookshelves near the blond. Abby didn’t mean to stare at you so intrusively and deeply, but couldn’t help it as she noticed the bruises and wounds on your arms. You glanced at her, the blond looking away as she hummed, embarrassed. “Any recommendations?” you asked. “Well,” she cleared her throat, then closed the book, leaving it on the bench as she stood up. “I don’t know, it depends on your preferences.” You shrugged. “Anything sounds good, as long as it is entertaining and keeps me busy.” you laughed, sarcastically. “I see.” Abby nodded. “Are you—” she sighed. “Are you okay? I mean— Of course not, but— Shit.” For someone who appeared to be extremely tough, she sounded and seemed surprisingly sweet and gentle. “It’s okay, don’t worry.” you said. “I just— I’ve been struggling to fall asleep lately and I think it’s mainly because I’m afraid to.” you shrugged, looking at her. “God, this is ridiculous.” you chuckled as Abby frowned. “I— I don’t even know why I'm telling you this, we don’t know each other, we just met and I’m already complaining about my shit. I’m sorry.” you said. “You can talk to me, I mean— I understand and I don’t know if you have any friends here yet, or if you have anyone to talk to.” you sighed as you suddenly felt the pain in your chest getting too heavy to contain it. And Abby immediately noticed the distress on your face. “Or not, we— Listen, we don’t have to talk about it, unless you want to. We can talk about something else as well.” For the first time in weeks, a little smile appeared on your face as Abby waited patiently for you to say something. “Okay.” you said. “I don’t wanna talk.” Abby nodded, understandingly. “But, I don’t wanna be alone either.” You couldn’t bear the idea of going back to your cold, empty room. It meant nothing but to deal with your own thoughts. “I need to do something.” you thought, walking to the bench and sitting down as you grabbed the book Abby had left there. “Is this one interesting?” you asked, innocently. “It‘s decent.” Abby answered as she watched you open the book. “I’ve never read it. I’ve heard about it, though.” you said. “Sounds like shit to me.” The blond woman laughed and sat down next to you, a little confused and amused as you both seemed so comfortable around each other, two strangers. “I could read it,” your eyes met hers as she talked. “To you.” You nodded in agreement. “I haven’t told you my name.” you said. “It’s Y/N.” Abby didn’t say anything, she took the book and smirked as she opened it. “I know.” she confessed. “Ready?” she asked, glancing at you. You nodded and watched her attentively as she started to read.

• At first, it wasn’t meant to turn into anything regular, it wasn’t meant to become something so important to you or to Abby, but it did. Now, the darkness didn’t seem as threatening as it used to. Now, you’d sit in your room and watch the sun go down with excitement as it meant you’d be reuniting with Abby soon. “Oh— Shut up.” Abby mumbled as you both laughed. It’s funny because you didn’t even know how important it was for her too. You guys never talked about it, for some reason. You didn’t know how much these moments had impacted Abby. “I’m not reading Harry Potter.” she said, as you both sat down on the ground, right against a bookshelf. “It’s all about fantasy, witches and monsters. It doesn't even make sense.” she continued. “Wizards, Abigail.” She frowned as you took the book. “And, there’s absolutely nothing that makes any sense in our own world. A little fantasy can’t hurt.” you said, pouting. “Fine…” Abby sighed, defeated. “You better stay awake this time, I’m doing this for you.” she said. “Come on— It happened once.” Abby scoffed. “Twice.” You didn’t know what to say, or more specifically how to admit it. “When we’re together, the pain doesn’t seem as heavy as it used to.” you thought, as she started to read, softly. “And I feel so guilty, for how good it makes me feel.” Two hours in, Abby looked down at you as you grew silent throughout the reading. “Y/N.” she chuckled, your head resting against her shoulder as you snored peacefully. “Dammit… I knew it.” She closed the book and put it down as she sighed, closing her own eyes.

• “Fuck…” Abby mumbled as she grew impatient. The tall woman walked around the empty library, examining the shelves without much interest as she tried to remain calm. “Come on, where is she…” she wondered as she waited for you. “Dammit— I’m ridiculous.” Abby said to herself as she realised how much this situation affected her: your casual little meetings at the library were always by far, the greatest moments of her week. “Fuck it.” she breathed as she left the library, walking straight towards the dorms. After spending the day out on patrol, Abby wanted nothing more than to see you, to hear you, to have fun with… her friend. The idea of hanging out with you at the library tonight had been the only thing that motivated her during the entire day. And even though she wouldn’t dare to admit it, she truly enjoyed reading the Harry Potter books with you. “What the fuck…” Abby mumbled as she approached your room. She couldn’t get any closer, genuinely shocked at the scene playing in front of her: You were standing by the door with Owen, kissing him passionately. Abby swallowed hard, confused by the sudden sickness overwhelming her. You smiled as the boy walked away, disappearing in the distance. The blond woman nodded as she exhaled, bitter. Abby turned around and left as you locked the door, heading towards the library with excitement. “Abby!” you called happily as you stepped in the quiet room, eyes searching for the blond’s silhouette. “Abs!” But, she wasn’t here. You didn’t find anything, besides the book you guys were supposed to be reading, left on the bench.

• “Something’s wrong.” you thought. Abby would never miss an occasion to see you, to see her friend, right? “Yes, we talked this morning, she’s at the gym.” Whitney said. “But, she seemed a little— Upset.” You sighed. “Okay… Thanks.” You felt anxiety pressed like a blade against your throat as you headed to the gym. “Hey, Abby!” you waved awkwardly at the blond. “What do you want?” she asked, all sweaty and panting as she stood by the machines. “Oh—” you paused, genuinely hurt. “Nothing— I was just wondering how you were doing.” Abby shrugged. “What happened yesterday? Weren’t we supposed to meet at the library?” you asked. “I didn’t know we were supposed to see each other everyday. I had things to do.” you blinked. “You’re right, we don’t have to.” Abby hummed. “Anything else?” You couldn’t save this conversation, it was over as soon as the pain in your chest suddenly came back. “I’ll see you later.” you walked away, humiliated. For the first time in weeks, you stayed away the entire night, the nightmares and voices coming back to get you.

• On Saturday, Owen decided to throw a massive party at the aquarium, which included Abby: the main reason you had agreed to come. God, it was awkward to stand there without talking or even acknowledging her as you both chatted with your friends, pretending not to see each other. “I miss you.” Abby thought as your laugh echoed through the room. “Fuck— Why does she have to looks insanely good tonight.” you thought as you danced with random guys and tried to forget about her. No matter how much you both wanted to talk to each other, you couldn’t find the courage to do it. “She’s really cute.” Jordan said to Owen as they watched you walking around in the tiniest skirt ever. “I need some air.” Abby said, taking a shot. You frowned as she disappeared through the crowd, eyes searching for hers. You waited until your friends seemed busy to leave. “So— You’re just gonna stand there and say nothing?” Abby asked a few seconds later as you both leaned against the wall and stared at the stars. “And, why should I be the one to start the conversation?” Abby sighed, inaudible music playing in the background. “You’re the one who followed me here, Y/N.” you chuckled. “You wanted me to.” Abby’s features softened, delicately illuminated by the moonlight as you both turn to face each other. “Nice skirt...” she complimented, glancing at your legs. “I found it during my last patrol.” you explained, proudly. “Right,” Abby shook her head. “I completely forgot that you started going on patrols with Manny and Owen.” It wasn’t true though. Abby had secretly been listening to Manny and Owen’s conversations for days, trying to get the smallest information about you. She was worried about your safety. Every morning she’d watch Manny leave the apartment, feeling sick at the idea of something happening to you. “You know— I’ve seen so many things out there and I’ve been dying to talk to you about it.” you admitted. “Actually, I have something for you.” Abby frowned as you inspected your small pockets. “One time, we were reading together and you told me about your coin collection.” Abby’s heart melted. “I thought you’d like it.” You dropped the coin in the blond’s hand with a smile. She couldn’t believe it as she stared at you, she had never met someone so sweet and caring before. “I don’t deserve it.” she said, ashamed by how poorly she had treated you lately. “It looks really cute…” she said, glancing at the skirt, again. “Shit— I wanted to look hot, not cute.” you groaned, touching the fabric. Abby’s mind went wild as she stared at your curves more attentively, something switching inside her. “Abby.” you murmured, the blond’s heart becoming too heavy for her own chest as you caught her staring. She couldn’t deny it: you were an attractive woman. And there was nothing wrong with admitting it, but feeling it… It meant something totally different, something inappropriate. “I don’t know what to say…” Abby murmured back, blushing from the alcohol in her veins or the sudden tension rising between you two. “Fashion isn’t really my thing.” you smirked. “What’s your thing, Abigail?” It could’ve been an innocent conversation with someone else, but not with you. Abby sighed as she watched you step closer, eyes filled with lust. “Boob— Books, Books…” she said flustered, you were staring at her lips without even trying to be discreet about it. “Right— You’re an intellectual and beautiful.” Abby chuckled nervously. “I’m not beautiful, not like that, not like you.” you shrugged. “To me, you’re so much more than that.” Abby’s whole body trembled as you leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Dammit— You’re drunk.” Abby said, trying to play it cool. And as she sensed the frustration and desperation in your sigh, she almost gave in. You weren’t thinking rationally, your thoughts wandering around the blond’s body as she held you by the waist and pulled you closer so effortlessly. “There’s so many guys staring at you tonight, Y/N.” she said. “I couldn’t care less about them.” you murmured as Abby smirked.

• Unfortunately, or fortunately; you weren’t sure. Nothing had happened between you two that night. But emotionally, it completely wrecked you both. It’s true, Abby has been trying to convince herself that it meant nothing. “It was the alcohol.” she thought, leaving the aquarium. “What’s happening to me?” you had asked yourself. Abby didn’t know about the rest though, about what happened as soon as she left and how you ended up in Owen’s bed that night. Obviously, it was mainly to forget about what had happened between you two, to deny it. But as the man pounded into you recklessly, your thoughts went back to your friend. And when you clenched around him as you reached heaven the only thing you could think about was Abby Anderson.

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nipotazzi · 2 months

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My thoughts on the antagonist of Side Order (spoilers ahead).

So... are we just gonna gloss over the fact that Smollusk is kind of, sort of... Marina's kid?

This AI was generated from her wish of order, and so when (overl)order was created it also influenced her at the same time (turning her into the Agitando form), but once defeated and made powerless it turns into a completely different entity: from scary HAL9000-likesque AI with it's own "the part where it kills you", to an angry kid that is platonically sent to it's room because it misbehaved.

After it gets beaten again and again by Eight and more palettes (aka souls) are freed, we can see in it's notes how confused it seems in following it's own directives. Frankly, it's staggering how similar but different Smollusk is compared to Commander Tartar:

It must be extremely afraid of Eight and, even worse, it's own creator, since Marina doesn't really seem willing to help it (heck she even helps beating it every time, but at least she invited it to their next concert so it's a start?) Maybe because it's a simulation supposedly it doesn't really get hurt in the process, but this is still Smollusk's reality, it's all real to it...

despite having basically the same objective, bring the world to a new age of perfection and order, one has read I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream, and the other seems more like a scared kid, afraid of chaos by it's own programming, but that doesn't realize the damage it's causing by following it, and because of this it gets beaten the shit out of every time it tries to take over the tower.

Once again, by reading the notes on the palettes we can tell it has feelings, and thus can feel fear, even though it probably has no idea what they are.

I kind of feel bad for it ngl, It's almost tragicomic.

#my posts #splatoon #splatoon 3 #agent 8 #side order #marina ida #pearl houzuki

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amorficzna · 4 months

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you're beautiful

Relationships: (Weeping Scope) Levi/Marina

Length: 864 words, completed

All it took was one night for him to slip away from her arms, and now he was this. Beautiful, but still so sad. “I’ve got you, Levi. Remember? I’ve still got you.”

Marina finds the weeping scope.

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

The weeping scope was crying, huddled off into a corner of the old orphanage. No wonder, considering it was all alone. It flinched as the floorboards of the orphanage creaked beneath her feet.

This lonely place was once its home, and still it seemed to call it back here, so many years later. They were very similar, her and this weeping scope, because she too heard Prehevil’s rancid call for her to come back, to irritate old wounds, to find death and decay. And so she did. And she had regretted every moment of it - except for finding him.

She crouched before it, its long head reaching above her like a giant mammoth. It was beautiful, the way the flesh made a perfect, cylindrical snout to shoot from. A living weapon. It was beautiful, but sad too.

It tried scrambling backwards.

“Hey, you’re alright,” she tried cooing to it.

But the tears wouldn’t stop, flowing crystalline drops from the base of its neck, where a deformed mouth still sat, though it looked like it could barely open it. The tears spilled into that open hole, and so too did it fling its scope over her head, trying to get away from her.

“Levi, it’s alright.”

That seemed to startle it, and for a moment she worried it had stopped breathing all together. She dared reach forward and pressed her hand against the hard, cold flesh of the scope, its ridges becoming familiar to her soft hands.

She tried sticking to the gunman like glue while he was still human. But Prehevil took and took and gave nothing back, even her sweet, gentle gunman, her heroin addicted boy.

All it took was one night for him to slip away from her arms, and now he was this.

Beautiful, but still so sad.

“I’ve got you, Levi. Remember? I’ve still got you.”

The scope relaxed, its tears slowing in their intensity, in their mania, and the snout of the scope carefully nudged her shoulder. She nuzzled her cheek into it, and for a moment it wasn’t a weapon at all. In turn, its hands grasping at the rotted floors eased up, and instead moved out to her. She took each in one of her own hands, and kissed them softly. Hands that could kill so easily, and had, even for her.

“See? I’ve still got you. You’re still you. You’re still Levi.”

The tears began to drip again, and she shuffled forward to rest her head against its shoulder. He still smelled like him, old sweat and gunpowder and tobacco. She nuzzled him there, trying to get as close as she could so she could crawl into his skin and never leave him again, and she felt his shaking arms surrounding her.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered against his skin. He held her tighter.

Daan and Karin had looked at her skeptically when she said she was going to go find Levi.

“You sound very certain,” Abella had said, passing her an extra pistol with ammo, and a few rations, “Take this. Just in case.”

Maybe Abella had known that he would be like this, that they wouldn’t be able to return to the train. She didn’t know, and would never know, but she was glad she hugged the mechanic before leaving into the moonscorched night. She would miss her.

Karin would shoot her on sight if she returned with the behemoth of Levi trailing behind her.

And she wouldn’t leave him.

Finally its tears stopped spilling out, and she moved upwards on her knees to kiss the scope against its side, the hard skin cold and welcome against her chapped lips.

“You’re beautiful. You’re safe. And you’re still mine, remember, Levi?”

The scope hesitated before it did what she assumed was a small nod.

“And I love you like this. I really do. So… we’re getting out of here. Right now. Together. Time to leave the fucking bones of Prehevil behind us for good. Right?”

The scope pulled her in closer in response, and she hugged it as far around its torso as she could.

She didn’t know where they would go, and she didn’t care either. Maybe they would head north, to Oldegård, where the mountains would hide them from prying eyes. Perhaps with enough coin they could get onto a ship to Vinland, where they would welcome the hulking form of the weeping scope without prejudice. Either way, she would be there with him, and they would be together, and it would be enough. She knew it would be.

“Let’s go, then. Together.”

He was tall, so tall that when they stood side by side she only reached his belly button. He had to crouch to not scrape his head against the old orphanage ceiling. She guided him softly out of the old orphanage, his hand so gentle in hers that she was worried he had gone limp. But once they were outside he stood tall, his scope reaching out towards the sky above them, the moon shining down on them.

And in that moment, she knew it would be alright.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, and it nuzzled its scope close against her shoulder.

#fear and hunger termina #fear & hunger #fear and hunger #funger #funger termina #funger fanfiction #writings #ao3 link #levi fear and hunger #marina fear and hunger #fear and hunger marina #marina #marina domek #levi x marina #marilevi #weeping scope

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isagrimorie · 3 days

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I listened to the All Access Trek Podcast. Laurie Ulster said something that piqued my curiosity. Laurie mentioned that the writers of season 5 of Discovery want to be more connected to the larger Trek universe.

Then, Laurie and Anthony Pascal noted how different this attitude was from the early seasons of Discovery. Both Laurie and Anthony were involved in and around Trek productions, and Laurie herself was a host of After Trek (back when it existed).

Laurie mentioned that in season 1 of Discovery, studio executives would freak out if other Trek properties (specifically 90s Trek) were mentioned or alluded to. The TOS era is allowed, but it seems anything related to 90s-era Trek was not allowed.

And, it’s all because Star Trek Nemesis flopped big time.

(According to Jonathan Frakes he was told that Nemesis was the one that actually lost money.)

The effects of Star Trek Nemesis’s flop were so wide-ranging it almost killed the franchise. A few years later, they canceled Enterprise and any upcoming Trek live-action projects.

Nemesis is to blame for why neither Deep Space Nine nor Voyager had a live-action movie.

According to BTS reports and what the TNG actors have mentioned, Nemesis was a troubled production from the start. It got worse when the director, Stuart Baird, didn’t even care to know the actors’ names (famously mispronouncing LeVar Burton’s name). Additionally, he never bothered to watch a single episode of TNG. Marina Sirtis and LeVar Burton have been outspoken about how much they dislike Nemesis and the director (more from Marina on this).

(Both Marina and Gates McFadden weren’t fond of the other TNG era movies either, especially Gates because she was little more than a cameo in the movies.)

After Nemesis flopped it took years for Star Trek to return, and after that, there seemed to be a mandate from the studio to never mention 90s Trek.

This is why Star Trek: Picard was such a big deal, especially since it directly references events from Nemesis.

(And, an even bigger deal for Picard Season 3 reunion getting produced.)

The Nemesis effect continues to have an impact on the movie side of the franchise. The majority of announced projects take place in the pre-TOS era, TOS era, or the Kelvin timeline but there are no projects set during or after the 90s-era Trek.

This is why mentioning a ship class called Janeway was big but even bigger, showing Picard and directly referencing to the Dominion War and Deep Space Nine and Discovery is a big deal.

Anyway, I just wanted to mention all this because it baffled me why the executives were so into TOS-era trek and there seemed to be no interest for 90s-era Trek. And, learning about all this finally answered all my questions.

TLDR, I like TOS era but I’m not into the TOS-era and I enjoy the Kelvin timeline as much as anyone else but it is not the era of Trek I’m interested in. So the movies set all TOS or Pre-TOS era— its just not something I’m going to jump around about.

#star trek #thinky thoughts

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demonic0angel · 1 month

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Chapter 8 of Ghost Games is out!

(Please start subscribing, I'll stop posting chapters on tumblr after this chapter)

Sparrow's eyes widened. "You're the guy that Brittany likes!"

Oleander glared at him viciously. Marina, however, flinched and ducked her head. Sparrow closed his mouth silently, already feeling the judgement through Oleander's dagger-like gaze.

Nightingale and Robin were silent for a moment, obviously contemplating the new information.

Then Robin asked, "Why did you start killing students? What happened?"

Oleander turned to look at Marina, who stared at him with wet eyes. She clutched at his sleeve and he sighed and relented.

He turned to them and began to explain the sequence of events at East High School.

It had all started when a scholarship student had entered the school. The student was Marina, and she had been a target for bullying since Brittany knew about her. No one defended Marina because she had no friends and couldn't speak well, so even teachers didn't like her.

Marina said in a croaky voice, "I-It's because I s-s-stutter."

"It's because I stutter," Oleander repeated gently.

Marina nodded, and said in a softer tone, "It's... it's because I stutter."

Oleander smiled at her gently but when he turned back to them, his eyes seemed like he wanted to eat them alive. Sparrow was low key impressed by his two-facedness.

Oleander continued his tale. He talked about how he met Marina, found her being bullied and then protected her on instinct. To him, it had been love at first sight.

At that, Marina rolled her eyes lightly but a flush still crept over her face, bringing attention to the mangled scar on her cheek. Nightingale cooed audibly and she flushed further, ducking her head. Oleander smiled at the sight and pulled her closer to him, where she nuzzled him.

Even Sparrow, oblivious as he usually was, felt like the two were deeply in love.

Oleander continued and spoke about how the bullying escalated, even when he tried to stop Brittany by getting her in trouble, scolding her, or bringing it to the authorities. However, nothing happened, even when Marina had her face mutilated by Brittany.

"Nothing I could do was enough. I even threatened her and she laughed in my face. I couldn't stay with Marina all the time, and even when I replaced all of the locks in Marina's room, Brittany would still find ways to make her life hell. The teachers and principal defended her whenever I brought it up."

Sparrow frowned again.

"Nothing happened?"

Oleander snarled, "They're all greedy for money. Of course they wouldn't care about a poor student. I'm rich, so I took care of Marina when I could, but my family's money and power wasn't enough to handle Brittany."

It all came to a head when Brittany finally had enough of Marina and turned crazy. She took Marina from her dorm room and she and her cronies tied her up and beat her. Then as a final act of revenge, they hung her in the supply closet.

Oleander's expression was blank as he explained the events. Marina hugged his arm silently, the bruises even more obvious on her skin now that Sparrow knew what had happened. His heart hurt for her and he wished that she wouldn't have had to suffer.

Nightingale clutched him even tighter and Sparrow let her. Robin silently pressed up against Nightingale's other side and Sparrow noticed his clenched fists that were placed on his lap.

"I found her in the supply closet. It was 3 in the morning when I did. I just woke up, I don't know, it was a feeling. When I found her..." Oleander was silent.

Marina, for the first time in a long time, spoke up. "H-He killed himself. For me. Aft-After that, he s-started killing people."

"After that." Oleander said gently.

"After that, he started killing people." Marina repeated clearly. "We... we couldn't speak to each other as ghosts b-but... but because you freed me, I can now speak to him."

She smiled at Oleander shyly.

Oleander kissed her hair and turned to them with a hard look. "You're players, aren't you?"

"You know you're NPCs?" Robin blurted, surprised.

Oleander gave a snort. "All of the ones who can think for themselves do."

Robin's eyes lit up. "What caused you to stay here? Can you tell me anything about the scenarios?"

Oleander glanced at Marina, who was staring at him in confusion. Then he said, "I'm the only one that has a deal with the Lord God. Don't... don't be eager to earn a wish." Then he looked pained and he stood up, moving away from Marina's hold. "I have to go. You completed the scenario, so the bus should be available to you now. Go find it."

With elation, Sparrow realized that they were now free. By helping Marina down, Oleander would reveal himself and then tell them the urban legend. Without finding the corpse here, there would be no way of completing the scenario without any more difficulty.

Coincidences and planning brought them here. The satisfaction of solving this mystery filled Sparrow with satisfaction.

"Ollie!" Marina blurted. "W-W-Where—!" She stuttered, unable to speak in her nervousness as her eyes began to water.

Oleander stroked her hair and said in a sweet tone, "I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll come find you, okay? These people will get you out." He gestured to the three of them and although Sparrow was a little annoyed that a guy who punched him was ordering him around, seeing how he was trying to comfort Marina, Sparrow just sighed and nodded.

"What's going on?" Nightingale asked and Oleander glanced at her.

"When the bus comes, there'll be one last final attack from the scenario. I'm part of it. Take Marina with you and bring her to safety. I'll come get her once I burn down this hellhole." He clenched his fists but then relaxed and smiled at Marina again, who was beginning to cry.

"I'm sorry. I'll come get you though, I promise. Be good. Go with them."

"No! No, no, I'll s-stay with you!" Marina sobbed.

"Be good," he said again and then he turned into a shadow and flew off.

Marina cried with heart wrenching sobs. Nightingale let go of Sparrow to hold her, consoling her gently. "Come on, Marina. Oleander doesn't want you to be sad. You have to listen to him, okay? Don't be sad, he made a promise to you."

"We have to find the bus." Robin paused and then turned to Sparrow, "Sparrow, you go with Nightingale and find the bus. Nightingale, you take care of Marina."

"What about you?" She asked anxiously. Sparrow was also wide eyed, feeling extremely worried that Robin would suddenly sacrifice himself by doing something stupid.

Robin smiled reassuringly at them. "I'm going to go to the library to broadcast an announcement. I'll try to evacuate everyone, you just get to safety."

"But what about you?!" Nightingale cried out. "What'll happen if you get hurt?"

Robin smiled. "I'm Robin. I'll be fine."

Once again, he mentioned 'robin'. Did that mean something?

Sparrow still didn't know, but he sounded so confident that Sparrow couldn't get angry. He held onto Nightingale's arm and nodded once to Robin. "I'll take care of them. Go!"

Robin saluted him and turned to run out the door.

Knowing that she couldn't stop him, Nightingale looked resigned and she called out, "Stay safe! Come back quickly!"

Sparrow pulled on her arm. Marina had finally stopped crying and was silent, just pressed against Nightingale. "C'mon. We have to get Marina out before Oleander does whatever he has to do."

He lead the two girls through the school.

When Oleander said that the scenario would prepare one final attack on them, he wasn't wrong or exaggerating at all.

Ghosts and ghastly looking students came crawling out of the shadows. Teachers and faculty staff weren't far behind, holding weapons and smiling maliciously. Some of them jerked around like zombies while others darted forward like arrows, determined to kill the three. They were especially agitated when they noticed Marina, frothing at the mouth and turning red eyed.

Crowds of ghosts and monsters converged together to grab and maul Marina to death. Sparrow could even see the male hallway monitor approaching, carelessly killing his comrades in an effort to kill the three of them.

Sparrow fought them back and began to clear a path for both Nightingale and Marina.

Suddenly, there was a loud, shrill beeping from the speakers. Sparrow hissed through his teeth, covering his ears. Nightingale grimaced, using her hands to cover Marina's ears.

Then, there was Robin's voice from overhead, "All students, please evacuate. The scenario is finally ending. Please evacuate the building. The scenario is finally ending."

He repeated this several times.

Sparrow breathed a sigh of relief after hearing his voice and then he took Nightingale and Marina's hand to pull them out of the school.

Marina whimpered. "Ollie," she whispered the moment they left through the doors.

"He'll come get you," Nightingale soothed her.

Sparrow looked around and observed their surroundings.

He had intentionally brought them to the back of the school, knowing that schoolbuses usually picked up students at the back.

True to his memory, he saw a line of neatly packed schoolbuses, each dyed a rusty yellow and covered with mold and cobwebs. He continued to lead the girls as they all peeked inside of the windows, trying to identify which bus would take them away.

That was when he heard a distant explosion and then heat flared behind him. He turned and his eyes widened.

The school had lit on fire, flames blazing proudly to the sky, dying the night clouds a deep and ominous red. Shrieks immediately filled the air. Sparrow shuddered hard, barely able to resist panicking as the sounds of ghosts and spirits dying filled his ears.

"Robin!" Nightingale called out in horror but Marina was even louder than her.

"Ollie!!" She screamed, sobbing.

Sparrow began to panic now.

He had to find the bus. If Robin wouldn't come back to them, he still had to protect Nightingale and bring her to safety.

He couldn't fail.

It was his duty.

Sparrow kept searching and just as he was inspecting a random bus, trying to figure out what identified it as their transport of escape, there was a snarl behind them.

Sparrow turned and a player, the very same wolf dude that had tried to pick a fight with him on the first day, smiled at him ruefully.

"Hahahah!! A runt like you actually survived? I'm shocked," the wolf dude laughed mockingly.

"I can say the same for you, dog breath." Sparrow sneered. "Someone like you could actually survive? Did you find a master to help you?"

He was agitated and time was running out. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Nightingale guiding Marina away.

Thank goodness, because the wolf dude's friends began to crowd around him.

The wolf dude sneered. "Not so tough now, are you, runt?"

"Screw off!" Sparrow spat.

One of the wolf's companions eyed the bus that was behind Sparrow's back.

"Is this the bus?"

There were murmurs around.

When Sparrow turned his head to glance at the ordinary looking bus, his breath came out in a puff of white. A lightbulb lit up in Sparrow's mind.

His eyebrows furrowed and then he moved his body into a fighting stance. The motion felt natural and he began to grin as he eyed the wolves challengingly. "Yeah, what about it? I found it, so it's mine. I'm gonna be leaving."

"Not on your life," another wolf snarled.

Sparrow narrowed his eyes and then he straightened and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine then. Go ahead."

They all paused. Then the wolf dude said, "You must be tricking us."

"A trick? No!" Sparrow banged on the bus' door and it opened smoothly. "Go ahead."

The wolf growled. "You lie. We won't fall for your tricks!"

Sparrow confidently turned and just as he was about to go inside, he was wretched back by the back of his tracksuit and then thrown onto the ground. The air in his lungs was forced out from the force of his fall and Sparrow groaned in pain, curling onto the grass.

"Stupid brat!" The wolf snarled. "I won't let you get a card!" Then he went inside, his companions following them with mocking jeers.

Sparrow gave a cold snort, just as the doors closed and screams erupted from within. Scratches and paw prints immediately slammed into the glass windows and Sparrow looked away as the blood began to splatter. The pained howls didn't cease for a long time.

Although he had tricked them into dying, he didn't really want to actually see it. Nightingale and Marina peeked out from behind the bus and Nightingale frowned at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked. "You shouldn't have tried to provoke them."

"It's fine," Sparrow said, getting up and dusting the grass stains off of his clothes. "They're gone."

She looked mournfully at the bus. "I know," she said softly. She turned back and said, "Do we know which one is the real bus though?"

"I'm starting to suspect that this spot was a distraction to keep us away from the actual bus," Sparrow grumbled.

Nightingale looked at the burning school and said, "We have to hurry. I'm pretty sure the principal is dead now, and so are the other students. I noticed that the ghosts and monsters couldn't really leave."

"They're all ghosts," Sparrow said absentmindedly to himself.

What did it mean that all of them were already dead?

Marina tugged at Nightingale's sleeve and when she turned, Sparrow paid attention.

"There's another p-place for you to find buses. There-There's a p-parking lot within the forest." Marina said softly. “I-I’ll lead you there.”

"A parking lot in a forest? Who built this place??" Sparrow tried to lighten the mood. A shudder ran through his core.

Nightingale eyed Sparrow with exasperated amusement but smiled at Marina. "Thank you. Oleander will definitely come back."

Marina didn't reply, just nodding. Sparrow didn't say anything and the two of them followed Marina this time as she lead them to the bus. The further they got away from the school, the colder and darker their surroundings became. The forest they entered was quiet and Sparrow couldn't help but turn around every once in a while, just staring at the burning building.

Oleander was definitely the one who did that.

To get revenge for Marina, he had willingly killed himself and turned into a vengeful spirit.

Now the source of his sorrows were gone, burnt with the flames of justice.

It was almost poetic.

When they arrived, two people were already there. Robin and Oleander were chatting, but the word 'chatting' was kind of stretching it, because Robin was asking questions while Oleander was silent most of the time. Occasionally, he would nod and look back at him, but for the most part, he was stoically silent and still.

The moment Marina saw Oleander, she perked up like a wilted flower who finally saw rain.

"Ollie!!" She cried and immediately ran towards him.

Oleander, just like her, opened up like a sunflower who saw daylight.

"Marina!" He called and they ran towards each other in a touching display of love, as they clutched at each other and then hugged desperately. Oleander even picked her up and swung her in a circle as she squealed happily.

Sparrow glanced at Robin and Nightingale, wondering if he was about to become the awkward fifth wheel.

Thankfully, Robin and Nightingale did not decide to imitate the sickeningly sweet couple next to them. Instead, Nightingale approached Robin and put her hands on his shoulders, turning him this way and that. Robin let her inspect him like merchandise, and he was remarkably untouched and unharmed.

Nightingale breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you're okay."

Robin smiled. "Told you I'd be fine."

She glared at him. "Shut up."

Then they gave each other a long hug before letting go. When they spotted Sparrow, they took a few steps away from each other like guilty people.

Sparrow wanted them to feel very, very guilty.

Sulkily, he said, "Now you notice me?"

"Sorry, Sparrow," Robin smiled. He reached over to pat his hair. "You're alright, right?"

"We're fine," Sparrow let go of his annoyance. "I protected us."

"Good job!" Robin praised and Sparrow felt warm, letting a smile cross his face. He finally relaxed and leaned into the touch. Nightingale also moved and then another pair of hands joined into petting him.

He felt like a dog but it was nice and he was tired and their hands felt comforting so he just let it be.

Finally, they pulled away and moved to the bus.

Like the other buses, this one was still rusty yellow and looked aged and worn out. However, when approaching it, Sparrow noticed that the wheels were fresh with mud and the inside of the bus had faintly glowing green seats.

The door opened naturally when they came near. Robin was about to enter first when he paused and turned.

"Are you two coming with us?"

Oleander held Marina's hand and shook his head. "No. I'm staying with her."

Nightingale frowned. "Are you sure? You could come with us."

Oleander shook his head firmly. "No. I appreciate your help in helping Marina. But I cannot leave."

"What are you going to do now?" Robin asked.

"See what this world holds." Oleander looked down at Marina, and the two of them looked at each other and smiled.

Sparrow smiled. "Goodbye, you two. Safe travels!"

Marina beamed, hugging Oleander's arm. She waved, looking more excitable than ever. Even the bruises on her face began to disappear as she smiled widely. "Y-You too!" She called, and Oleander also waved goodbye with her.

Robin entered the bus first while Nightingale continued her goodbyes. Sparrow followed after him. The moment he stepped onto the stairs, a notification from the system took his attention.

[Congratulations for being the second person to find the bus and escape the scenario!

+150 points for completing the objective: Survive for a week within the school while uncovering the urban legend.

+50 points for being the second person to escape the scenario.

+20 points for finding clues and discovering the true ending of the scenario.

+10 points for surviving the scenario.]

He paused and Robin noticed. "You saw the point thing too?"

"Yeah. I got 230. You?"

"280."

Sparrow suddenly felt exhausted and he found his original seat. Sparrow sat in front of Robin and he laid back into his seat, closing his eyes.

All was quiet until Nightingale came back and said softly, "They disappeared. I think they're fine, they look happy. Also, other bus passengers have found us."

Sparrow's eyes snapped open and he stood up to look through the window, where he could spot several people coming out of the forest. Robin stared at the scene of greedily swarming people in silence before he said, "Before they come in, I have to tell you, I got a card."

Nightingale perked up. "What is it?"

"I think it's from my old life, because it feels familiar to me. The system says it's a utility belt and it has a limited amount of things. It gave me a choice between a limited number of tools I could use in each scenario or a large number of tools I could use before it's complete run out."

"You chose the first option?" Nightingale asked and Robin nodded to confirm just before the the doors opened again and a player came inside. He looked inside but when he saw the three of them, he snarled.

"Fuck!" He cursed and glared at them, but didn't say anything, only moving to another seat.

Nightingale moved to sit by Robin's side and then the two of them leaned closer to Sparrow's seat and began to whisper.

"I got 255 points." Nightingale told them perfunctorily. "What did you talk about with Oleander?"

Sparrow frowned, feeling like the number wasn’t quite right, but he was too exhausted to think deeper into it.

"He's not like the other NPCs. He said that NPCs can't think for themselves, but the ones that do are aware of the players' identities and can talk with this "Lord God". I don't know who they are, but from what I've gathered, they seem to be in control of the scenarios. They aren't actively looking for our deaths, but they're the reason why we're here and we shouldn't trust the promise of a wish because of them."

Nightingale sighed softly. "It feels terrible not knowing your identity or purpose but knowing that everywhere around you isn't safe."

There was the sound of a throat being cleared and all three of them looked up. The vampire dude from before looked down at them. He glanced at Robin and said, "Thank you for your warning. My companions and I were able to leave on time before the fire started because of it."

Robin nodded. "It was what should've been done."

The vampire bowed his head and then he said, "Have you three created a party yet?"

They shook their heads and Nightingale leaned over Robin to eagerly ask, "Can you teach us?"

He did so, and they all quickly made a party with one another. The vampire also explained some of the buttons that they could use. The party system allowed them to stay together when they got off the terminal because people were transported to different parts of the station to avoid fights from grudges grown within the scenarios. The party system also let them text each other, but only out of the scenario. Over all, it was just a simple thing to keep them together and in touch.

When Nightingale thanked him profusely, the vampire just humbly replied, "It is my honor."

He was clearly very grateful for Robin's warning.

Sparrow was too tired for anything else and he told both Nightingale and Robin to wake him up when they landed at the station.

However, that proved unnecessary because all three of them fell asleep.

Sparrow snapped awake with a jolt when a mechanical voice spoke from overhead, [Welcome to the Day Station. Please exit the bus.]

The doors opened. Sparrow caught a glimpse of outside, which showed a slightly debilitated airport. Then Robin held him back with a hand before he could move forward.

"Wait." He urged quietly, a glare on his face.

But before they could do anything, they were all directly tossed out of the bus and onto the floor. Robin had quickly grabbed him and Nightingale and protected their heads when they fell but Sparrow was still disoriented.

That was when the system spoke.

[Welcome to the Day Bus Station! Here, you can rest for a maximum of five days. In those five days, you can choose to do whatever you want as long as you are not found killing other players. You may choose a bus anytime and travel to as many scenarios as you want. Have fun!]

Multiple eyes landed on the three of them. Although the setting was that of an old and worn out airport, there were crowds of monsters and strange beings of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. They all surrounded the newcomers with intense gazes.

Robin cursed.

Sparrow wanted desperately to do the same.

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The first arc is finished! Did you guys enjoy it?? Please give me your thoughts!

I kind of want to edit this arc bc I’m not very happy with the characterization of Danny, Jazz, and Jason. However, I’ll probably do that in the future :3 arc 2 is still in progress!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jazz fenton #danny phantom x dc #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #jason todd #ghost game au

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