#<- will proceed to not post anything for the next few days despite having piles of things she wants to share

[motherforthefamicom]

old oc guy im tryinf to rework 👍

[sunkissedandseraphic]

My Guardian Angel is Crying: Chapter 5

Story Summary: When Rick and Michonne watched Judith walk onto the school bus, calling out a small "I love you!" before the doors closed behind her, they smiled, knowing their family had welcomed another good day. But merely hours later, they receive a call that shatters their world: while going back to the classroom after their time on the playground, someone had managed to kidnap Judith, and there was no trace of who took her and where she was now. Desperate to find their little girl, Rick and Michonne were determined to get to the bottom of this, even if that meant supporting each other and their son in the midst of their own breakdowns. They had to find her, because if they didn't, they'd crumble into pieces too small to put back together

Chapter Summary: The more days passed, the less hope the Grimes family had that their girl would return home safe. That is, of course, until one phone call and two strangers change everything

By the time afternoon began to blur into evening the next day, the bags underneath Rick’s eyes could hold the weight of the world in them. Between working until he was forced to leave every night and having to help Michonne through her constant nightmares, sleep was a luxury that Rick hadn’t been able to afford in the five days Judith had been missing. 

Whilst Rick was scanning every detail of the case file for the thousandth time, to the point where his brain had become nothing more than a pile of mush with no ability to process anything he was seeing, Maggie, a dispatcher at the station, received a call that would radically change everything.

“Hello this is the King County Sheriff’s Department, what are you reporting?” Maggie answered, starting at the top of her routine list of questions, synching the data allowing her to locate the location of the call.

“Hello, my name is Yumiko Okumura,” the woman was soft-spoken, threatened to be drowned out from the hustle and bustle of wherever she was, but her voice carried an edge that caught Maggie’s attention quickly, “my wife and I are waiting to check into a hotel where a woman, who says her name is Lori Walsh, is currently at the front desk with a young girl. She looks about six years old, and the woman keeps calling her Judith. I saw the posts and the arrest warrants that were released a few days ago; both of them fit the descriptions listed,”

The dump of information stunned Maggie. As a friend of Rick and the family’s, she, like much of the department, was hurt watching the three of them struggle through this tragedy. She knew how tolling this was, especially seeing the way Rick worked himself to death day after day, but this one phone call was the hope they had been holding out for. 

Maggie’s fingers moved faster than her brain as she dove into recording the details. “Is she at the front desk with the child now?” She questioned, counting down the seconds until she could announce to Rick that his little girl had been found. “Yes, she’s counting out cash and trying to get her room key,”

Despite the urge, Maggie knew she couldn’t commence the celebration too early; they still needed to get down to the hotel– which she had traced to Atlanta, barely forty minutes out– and keep Lori, Shane, and Judith in one public area so they could proceed with the arrest and returning Judith to Rick and Michonne, seeing as they didn’t have time to seek out a warrant to search whatever hotel room they would be given. She would need to get creative for this to work.

She paused, sifting through her thoughts to come up with something. After a beat, Maggie smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’m going to need you and your wife’s help to ensure that little girl stays safe, can you do that?” And with Yumiko’s enthusiastic agreement, Maggie relayed her the plan.  

Yumiko remained on the phone with Maggie while her wife, Magna, took a gum wrapper from her purse and wrote a note explaining that Judith had been kidnapped and that they were on the phone with the police, who ordered to stall them in the lobby until they could arrive and properly take matters into their hands. She would then hand this to the employee at the front desk and say a prayer that this could be accomplished. Maggie had ordered for this transaction to be discreet, and the wives were prepared.

Once written, Magna casually walked towards the front desk where a younger man was typing away on his laptop, about to reveal Lori’s room number and hand her the key. As she stepped up, she cleared her throat, gaining the man’s attention. “Oh, Aaron, here’s the number for that mechanic you asked me about earlier!”

Aaron, the employee at the desk, tried to mask his confusion as he took the paper from her, but as he unfolded it, Magna watched as the gears turned in his head. She could see when he understood his role in this mess when he nodded and returned the Magna’s grin. “Oh, thank you! Believe me, between me and my husband, Eric, this will be put to good use,” He covered, slipping the paper into his pocket.

Relief came over Magna like a wave as step one had gone successfully, not bothering to hide the smirk that graced her lips as she turned her back to the scene at the desk. As she walked away, her ears tuned to listen in on what Aaron was relaying to Lori, crossing her fingers they would be able to keep Lori, Shane, and Judith in the area until the cops from King County could handle the rest.  

In the meantime, at the front desk, Aaron struggled to maintain his composure. The client he was meant to be checking in was a supposed kidnapper, and he held a sudden responsibility of lying and stalling the family from accessing their room? He wanted to help– he knew if his daughter, Gracie, was the one in Judith’s place he would sell his soul for a stranger to go out of their way and ensure her safety like this– but he couldn’t crack under the pressure. 

With the note tucked out of sight, his fingers glided across the keyboard on his monitor, typing nothing but gibberish in an attempt to appear as though something was wrong. He waited a few seconds, wanting not to seem suspicious, before moving his gaze back up at the woman. 

“Ah, here it is! Lori Walsh!” Aaron announced, his false, customer-service style grin faltering shortly after. “I sincerely apologize, but there is going to be a bit of wait for your room: we had to send in an emergency maintenance team to check on a report from one of the staff members, but it should be done within the hour. You and your family are more than welcome to wait in the lobby until then and we’ll let you know when your room is ready,”

Despite lying through his chattering teeth, the claim seemed realistic enough that Lori responded with a scoff, a mutter underneath her breath, and a sharp grabbing of Judith’s hand as she dragged her back over towards the lobby couches. His eyes followed their movements, carefully watching as Lori placed herself besides Shane, and Judith chose to wander around the area, taking in the sights of who and what surrounded her.

They had believed him. 

As everything unfolded, Rick was back in King County, downing his fourth coffee for the day. He was rapidly losing the battle to stay alert, his head slipping further and further down into his arms the more he poured these useless reports over himself, and his desperate and excessive caffeine intake was not proving effective. Nothing any of the officers had collected was going to aid in finding Judith, and the hope he once treasured was running thin. 

Arrest warrants for Lori E. Walsh and Shane R. Walsh: 4/12/24, 4:36pm

Arrest warrants for Lori E. Walsh and Shane R. Walsh: 4/12/24, 4:36pm

Arrest warrants for Lori E. Walsh and Shane R. Walsh: 4/12/24, 4:36pm

Rick had read that sentence so many times he believed it to be permanently ingrained in his mind. How could he have let this happen? It was his job to keep Judith safe, to keep her away from these two, and he couldn’t even do that right. Rick was the one who had taken Judith and Carl from their mother for their safety, and now? Now Judith was with her again, in God knows where, and for all he knew she could be sick or hurt or dead or– “Rick!”

Rick was released from his spiral of rapid, anxious thoughts when Deanna’s scream erupted from down the hall. His heart jumped into his throat, preparing for the worst news he could dream of being announced when his captain entered the room so rushed the door almost swung off its hinges. 

While Deanna paused in the doorway, waiting for air to reach her lungs once more, the sheriff raised from his seat and restrained the urge to shake the information out of his co-worker. He was about to speak, about to beg for what his mind was convinced of not to be true, but Deanna interrupted him with a grin and a laugh before he had the chance.

“Rick, they found her. They found Judith,”

Six words. Six little words was all it took to break officer Rick Grimes. 

His body moving with a mind of its own, he barely made it two steps forward from his desk before being engulfed with relief. His knees declared their surrender and Rick buckled on the floor, knees digging into the uncomfortable carpet. A sob ripped from his shallow chest, tears of unbeatable joy racing down his face. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped amidst the mix of emotions, not sure if this was all just some wonderful dream that he would have to wake up from.

Deanna knelt in front of Rick, clamping her hands onto his shoulders while she spoke, making sure he was listening. “She’s at a hotel in Atlanta with Shane and Lori; someone called saying they were checking in and we have them in the lobby with the staff aware of the situation. I’ll send you the address, but I want you to go home, grab Michonne and Carl, and go get her, understood?” She was hardly able to finish her sentence before Rick nodded vigorously, shaking with overwhelming solace. 

Deanna helped Rick steady onto his feet, leaving him with a warm, comforting hug as she was called for a few offices down. Rick stared at the captain while she took off, unable to peel his eyes away from the woman who’d delivered the most wonderful news he could ever pray for. 

One hand gripping the edge of his desk, assisting in ensuring he didn’t lose his balance once more, he used the other to dig through his pocket until he grabbed his phone, dialing Michonne’s number as fast as his fingers would move. The phone rang twice before her voice came through, but the adrenaline pumping through his body beat her to the first words.

“Get Carl, I’ll be home in five minutes.”

As his voice cracked, the whirlwind of emotions too much to maintain his collected demeanor, it set Michonne up to expect some type of revelation that would crush her. “What? Oh god, Rick, what happened? What’s going on?” She questioned. Michonne, however prepared she was for the most horrid outcome imaginable, was not ready for what her husband was about to reveal. “She… She’s at a hotel in Atlanta, someone called it in,” Rick breathed, afraid if he said it aloud he would manage to jinx it, but when he registered what he was telling Michonne, there was no restraining the cheer in his tone. “They found her.”

[crow-ambrose]

Hello! I have a story to tell you. It's a very, very old story- no precise dating for it exists, though it can be fairly confidently assessed as "older than any substantial part of the Hebrew testament". It's called (within a margin of error, as translating the theonyms in texts like this is not an exact science) the story of Enki and Ninmah.

I learned this story a rather long time ago, and I see fit to retell it to you just from memory- not only as to produce an intuitive adaptation of the original work, but because it was originally an oral work, meant to be recited verbally.

One night, Enki, a god, and Ninmah, his wife, are sitting on a mountainside overlooking a city, drinking merrily and chatting to each other. And Enki makes a proposition to Ninmah, saying "I bet you all the silver in this mountain that I can make a human that even you, for all your creativity and mercy, cannot make anything of."

And she takes his bet, and says in return something to the tune of "Try me.”

He proceeds to fashion a man out of clay, but the man has no legs. He says to Ninmah, "What will this legless man ever be good for?"

She picks up the man, and hands him a fine bronze hammer. She places him in a workshop, in the city below. He lives a life of incredible service to those around him as a smith, never so much as taking a step away from his post over an anvil. He spends his days making sharp swords to keep the city safe, and thick, strong door hinges to keep the wind out of everyone's houses.

Enki then tries again, and fashions a man with no arms.

Ninmah picks him up and gives him a pair of fine sandals, and places him in the palace of the king in the city below.

A few hours later, Enki sees him running out from the front gate of the city, and exclaims to Ninmah "Hey!! They drove him out! He must not have been good enough for them after all!"

Ninmah retorts back and says "Look at his mouth, dumbass. He's carrying the king's words in his mouth, a clay tablet between his teeth. Not only is he good enough for this city and it's king, he is good enough for every other city and king, whom he will carry messages to and from.".

Then Enki fashions a man with no arms and no legs- he says "surely, you cannot make anything of this sorry wretch"- and she simply places him on the street, next to the city gate.

"Ha, this one just isn't fit for the palace, now is he? Do you admit that this man is worthless, on the street, a beggar, without legs to run or arms to work?"

And at those words from Enki's mouth, the man pipes up in the most beautiful song anyone in the city has ever heard, and Ninmah says back to him, "No, he isn't fit for the palace; he's fit for the street, his song to the grace the ears of every human who comes and goes from this city. Rich and poor, farmer and shepherd, slave and free, all will take joy in his singing. His voice is so beautiful that all passersby who can will leave him food and water in gratitude, such that he will never go hungry or thirsty, and his name will be remembered in fond memories of those wonderful sounds, even long after his passing."

Ninmah then smugly looks at Enki, now thoroughly defeated, and says, "I bet you all the silver in this kingdom that I can make a man who you cannot make any use of." Enki accepts the wager, hoping to win just as Ninmah had just done, to soothe his aching pride.

Ninmah fashions a man out of clay, and then casually throws him off the mountain. He's incredibly fucked up- he has no arms and no legs- he's blind and deaf- and mentally handicapped to an extent that even if he could talk to anyone, despite the fact he also had no tongue, nobody would be able to make heads or tails of what he was saying. As well, he was wrinkled like a rotten fruit and stank like a manure pile.

Enki takes one look at him and says "You win, you win- I have no idea how I or anyone else could make anything of this man, how could his life ever amount to anything?? Hell, I'd bet you all the silver in the entire world that you can't make anything of his life- nobody could!! Not me, not you, absolutely nobody."

Ninmah says back, "You're on."

She takes this man, gently picks him up, and places him in the city's temple. She instructs the priests to bring him food and water out of their stores- and puts underneath him a soft mat, of the type that offerings for sacrifice are laid out upon.

And she says to Enki, "He has no legs and no arms, no eyes and no tongue, no beauty and no mind- but he can still pray to his gods."

She wins the bet.

[artxyra]

You Are My Sunshine

Note: I never thought I would write something that is over 4000 words again, but here we are. This is loosely based on the @coralloverwinnerwolf suggestion request that they had asked me. 

“With the signing of these documents, Gabriel Agreste you no longer have the sole custody of your son Adrien Agreste. Adrian, you will officially be under the care of Mme. Cheng and M. Dupain.” The CPS member states pushing a formal document across the table. Gabriel Agreste was reluctant to sign but the piling evidence against him in light of Adrien’s rebellion stage leads him to believe there was no other choice. Tom and Sabine were ecstatic to take in Adrien. He’s a sweet boy that deserves the world and for the past month has made their home feel more like a home as Marinette now had a brother.

Originally, the CPS wanted Adrien to be sent to his Aunt in England but once taking into consideration that Adrien wasn’t as close, M. Agreste would do anything to keep his son in Paris, and the fact that Adrien himself made himself a home within the Dupain-Cheng household, it was easier to move custody rights to the Dupain-Cheng once proven how happier the teen had become. There was no need for a court appearance, just a small investigation that thankfully went under the media’s noses.

As of today, Adrien no longer carries the Agreste sir name as it was now Dupain-Cheng.

Adrien was ecstatic upon returning to the newest bakery location the Dupain-Cheng had moved into after deciding to expand their business once the two teens had graduated from college. Lycée was the perfect time to start over and forget their last two years of unhappiness. Though there were a few good things that came from their time in college. At Sabine’s suggestion, Adrien and Marinette had joined a foreign pen-pal program, and through that program, Adrien had met Jonathon “Jon” Kent, who was quickly taking Nino’s place as his best friend.

“Jon, I want you to be the first to know,” Adrien says as soon as his call was accepted. It wasn’t unusual that the Kent teen would be up at these times considering their time difference. Jon now wide-awake pushes for Adrien to continue. “I’m officially a Dupain-Cheng!” The former Agreste heir squeals with excitement. Jon squeals in excitement along with the former model but his were for on the hushed end.

“That amazing, Tigger. Was the process easy? Is Mars happy about you being her brother now?” Immediately Jon goes into a series of questions and concerns. Adrien couldn’t help but smile at the dark-haired teen on the other side of his screen.

“Mars is happy for me. We’re supposed to be taking family photos latter today to officiate it. You’ll probably be hearing Damian complaining about Mars once it's all said and done.” Adrien’s smile could brighten the world now that the looming fear of his father’s disappointment is no longer a concern of his.

“That’s good—” Jon looks off to the side. A flash of light passes by before a sigh of relief exits from the teen’s mouth. “Send me some of those photos once they’re ready.”

“I will.” Realization slowly began to dawn on the blonde, “Kwami. I forgot how late it is where you are? Want to finish this discussion later?” A small pout appears on Adrien's lips that Jon cannot help but internally squeal about.

After saying goodbye (or at the very least good night) to Jon, Adrien decided that maybe it was time to become the pestering brother Marinette always wanted.

“Hey buggy,” Adrien sings entering Marinette’s room that was smaller than the one at the other bakery.

Marinette didn’t mind turning her old bedroom into her studio after the move was completed. In fact, it worked out in her favor as it kept the work away from her when she needed downtime. The bakery across Françoise Dupont quickly became a hideout for the Miraculous Team and the location for Marinette’s MDC studio.

The moment Marinette heard her kittens voice, she immediately closes her laptop and turns her attention to the blonde male. “You need anything kitty?” Tilting her head gives Adrien a sense of security.

“Yeah, we haven’t decided what we’re going to do about Bug and Chat? I know you said something about meeting with Aurore and Mireille and having them do a special about us.”

The only response Adrien received was Marinette’s infamous, rarely used, mischievous smirk. A smirk he knows all to well and would hate to be on the receiving end of it.

Just a day later, Miraculous Out! a Ladybug sponsored website posted a video featuring Ladybug and Chat Noir themselves without the Miraculous Team, a rare sight nowadays. In the video, Ladybug wearing her newest outfit: dark leggings that are covered by a long slit skirt with the black and red polka dot pattern, matching combat boots, and a matching short sleeve turtle neck that is covered by a black motorcycle that ends but above her waist. Chat Noir now wearing leather pants with a muscle shirt that is often covered by a matching jacket with faux fur. His shows just as much as his younger teen version did if not a little more. For Ladybug, Marinette decided to keep her pigtails as her hair grew longer but opted for longer ribbons to be placed in her hair instead.

In the video, Ladybug and Chat Noir drops the biggest bomb to their fans. The iconic Paris duo is no longer just partners but officially brother and sister. That message put a stake through the hearts of LadyNoir shippers and the Ladyblog as it was the one eager for the two to become an item especially after a familiar voice under Lila Rossi predominately says that the two heroes are an item as she’s Ladybug’s best friend.

“For the past few months, Chat and I have been in an internal war with one another about how to announce this to Paris. This was mainly due to the additional attention to the LadyNoir shipping wars that were from the Ladyblog. Chat and I never and will never have any feelings for each other that aren’t platonic.” With that, Ladybug ends her statement and the video goes into its closing cards, basically saying stay tuned for other Miraculous news.

The second the screen turns black; Marinette turns to Adrien with the biggest smile on her face. Now all they need to do was announce that Adrien Agreste is no longer the face of his father’s company. This news was soon to be dropped once the photos from their family photoshoot drop.

The night before Paris is once again reckoned, the mischievous, Damian, and Marinette had a perfect view of seeing how two people can flirt around each other and not get the signs.

Marinette gave Damian for not ending the streaming on his end and taking off while she and Adrien shared a room to chat with their friends. Damian gave Marinette hidden signals on the verge of wanting to kill Jon and Adrien for their stupidity.

“If they don’t start dating in the next couple of hours, I will commit mass genocide,” Damian growls the moment Marinette decided to call him. Marinette laughs it off and smiles despite that he cannot see her, but he knows well enough.

“Let them be, it took us a moment to realize that we liked each other.”

Damian grunts unsure how to proceed. “They better figure this shit out soon.”

Marinette could only shake her head before the continue to talk about other things.

The following morning was great, well it was great until Marinette’s phone begins to blow up with notifications.

Adrien DuPain-Cheng @adrienwhopuns Papers finally approved, meet my new sista from another mother (@marinettewhomemes) [Attached to the tweet is a small collection of photos: (1) Marinette standing beside Adrien wearing tees that says “I’m the sister of a punster” and “I’m the brother of a mememer” (2) Adrien being surrounded by the entire DuPain-Cheng family holding a banner that says “It’s a new DuPain-Cheng” (3) Adrien pretending to pose as Marinette looks like a deer caught in the headlights behind him]

Marinette turns to her brother with a look of betrayal plastered against her face. Adrien didn’t have the decency to tell her about the handle change. There was no warning! No wonder Adrien had his phone on silent. Realizing that her phone will not shut up, Marinette turns off notification and narrows her eyes.

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes Replying to @adrienwhopuns Proud to call you my brother, you doof just try not to take over my room. #nolongeranonlychild #howmusthebeolder #punsvsmemes

This time Adrien looks up and narrows his eyes at Marinette. They were only a chair apart as it was a beautiful Saturday morning for the Dupain-Cheng household. Sabine was finishing the final add-ons for the strawberry and crème breakfast puffs.

“What’s going on you two?” Tom asks as he pours the drinks and set the cups down on the table.

“We’re internet famous, and Adri is trending on Twitter.” Marinette states with a deadpan face. Tom nearly makes a mess with the drinks but quickly catches himself.

“That’s good to hear,” Sabine says as she the tray of breakfast puffs over to the table.

Marinette and Adrien look at their mother with skepticism, it wasn’t like Sabine to be completely away from her children, but then again it doesn’t come as a shock. When Sabine and Tom accidentally came across the two teens coming home as their alter egos, nothing really surprises them anymore. That was one of the reasons why they had allowed the Miraculous team to hide out in the home of their other bakery.

Jon Kenting Me @jonnyboykent Replying to @adrienwhopuns I knew these photos were lit but I didn’t expect this!! @marinettewhomemes what were you doing in the background?

Marinette scoffs at Jon’s response to Adrien’s announcement tweet. She knew exactly what photo he was talking about and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Deciding that her breakfast was the best distraction from this ongoing shit show on Twitter, she begins to eat with peace on the mind.

Before Sabine took her seat, she called for the kwamis to join them for breakfast. All but Plagg ate in peace. Plagg wanted some cheese but after being on the receiving end of Mama Cheng’s glare he ate grumbling at every chance he got.

Adrien had finished his breakfast first; it was not because Jon had sent him a series of text messages begging for answers. Marinette watches her brother leave as she finishes her last bite and pulls out her phone.

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes Replying to @adrienwhopuns and @jonnyboykent What I do in the image is my business. Call me if you want the deeds.

She knew Jon wasn’t going to call her after posting that to the thread. Jon was probably in the middle of a phone call with Adrien before heading to sleep. Sabine and Tom watch their daughter leave the room with the kwamis trailing behind her, with smiles on their faces. To them, this makes it all worth it.

“Kitty, you coming or what? Luka and the others are ready to go.” Marinette shouts one day from the doorway of the house. She turns to see Luka standing sheepishly with his guitar on his back, Kagami with an eyebrow raises, and Chloe hanging off of Kagami’s arm examining her nails.

“I’m coming sheesh.” Adrien cries back before making himself known. Marinette rolls her eyes and walks out.

Sabine and Tom already in bakery, cannot wait to surprise their kids later this afternoon.

“How are things with you and Damian, Mars?” Kagami asks laying on her girlfriend’s lap as Chloe plays her hair.

Marinette heavily blushes. She and Damian have been dating for about six months after a couple of years of bouncing between each other. They ended up dating because Damian and his brothers ended up taking a private jet to Paris one evening and basically force the two into a closet. They spoke out their feelings and ended up trolling his brothers for a couple of days before announcing their newly made relationship status. Since Marinette isn’t seen in Gotham, the media has yet to link the two together as a couple.

“We’re fine, I’m more worried about kitten over here.” Marinette nudges Adrien’s shoulder who looks offended beyond belief.

“About what? I don’t have a problem.” Adrien counters as Luka plays his guitar.

“Your melody says otherwise.” The older teen states humming the tone to the melody.

“Luka!” Adrien screeches, his face turning red. The group laughs and proceeds to watch the clouds. The wind picks up.

“So how are things with Jon?” Chloe suddenly asks after a moment of silence. Everyone turns to Adrien who tries to look everywhere but at his friends. Marinette could see the rise in red reaching his ears.

“It’s nothing.” Adrien shutters out. The four looks to one another knowing the former blonde model was lying beyond belief.

“Uh huh…” Chloe sings the words out appearing behind the blonde male.

“He’s…” Adrien is stopped by his thoughts. What was Jon to him? A friend? A potential lover? His blush deepens at the thought of that. “He’s… I don’t know what to think.”

“You are in too deep for this,” Kagami states as she too saw what was becoming of her oldest friend. Adrien curls into himself unsure how to feel.

Marinette knows that deep down, Adrien was falling for Jon; however, it did make her wary. Adrien was quick to bond with Jon during the pen-pal program and nearly lost it when the program ended. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had exchanged numbers before the last, she doesn’t know what would have happened to Adrien. They were both going through a tough time when they joined the program. Adrien had a wake up called regarding harassment and learning that the real world wasn’t all fun and games while she, herself, was trying to rediscover the self-confidence that she had lost due to the bullying she had to endure because of Lila Rossi. It took months of therapy and talks with Damian for her to acknowledge that she wasn’t responsible for the person people created of her in their minds, and that was the tea.

Adrien’s wake up call was the reason he began spending more time with her and her family. Her parents say Adrien as the broken, lost boy he was and took him under their wing. Of course, Marinette wouldn’t change what happened for anything in the world.

Then there was an explosion happening in the background. Without speaking, the five split up to transform and regroup once they have all the details.

While Paris has grown used to somewhat daily Akuma attacks, they know how to avoid the fighting areas and proceed with their day. Sabine had left the bakery to go pick up three people from the airport.

Jonathon Kent had to beg his parents to allow him to go to Paris with Damian and Jason. Damian had wanted to surprise Marinette with a visit and Jason, well Jason just wanted fresh baked goods. Jon, on the other hand, just wanted to meet Adrien for the first time in person. For years, the two spoke through video chats, text messages, and twitter threats, but never had they had the chance to meet in-person. When Jon found out that Damian was planning on visiting Mars, he knew he just had to come. Their school wasn’t in session and if anything, really disastrous happens, he could fly back in no time.

“Hello boys,” Sabine greets grabbing their attention. Jason was the first to run over to the small frame woman with the speed that could match a dog.

“Hey, Sabine!” Jason greets back. Sabine narrows her eyes; she knows that Jason wants something, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Hello again, Mrs. Cheng,” Damian adds walking over to his brute of a brother and the mother of his girlfriend.

“Hi, I’m Jon.” Jon gives the older woman his brightest smile.

“I can see why you and Adrien have bonded so easily.” Sabine chuckles lightly to which a blush crosses Jon’s face. Jon could hear the teasing that Jason was whispering to Damian about having a crush and a model, which only farther the blush.

Sabine sends him another smile. “Well, we should get going if we want to surprise Marinette and Adrien.” Clapping her hands, she begins to usher the boys in the direction of her car.

While driving across Paris, Sabine notices the swirls of ladybugs fixing up the city. This once gives her enough time to park, get the boys to settle, and start making dinner all before her children get home.

“Wow, this place is bigger than the last place? What happened?” Jason asks kicking his feet up onto the couch the second they arrived on the second level of the building. Sabine scolds the older male before explaining that with Adrien being added to the household and Marinette’s growing business, their old place was becoming cramp, and now that the two are longer attending Francoise Dupont, they could have to look farther out for a bigger home and bakery all while still owning the other one.

Damian took notice of the new photos hanged up on the walls. Of course, the photos that Adrien had posted on twitter, but along them are photos of a happier Marinette and Adrien acting like siblings. They had even recreated iconic sibling moments from television shows to make It feel real.

“Those two have made our lives so much better, and Sabine and I are glad that our little loaf has met you.” Damian turns to see Tom hovering over him. He had thought his girlfriend’s father was down in the bakery, but he was wrong. Damian wasn’t sure what to say, sure he had met Tom before and have grown used to the tall being, but even he knows when to picks his battles.

“I’m lucky to have her.” Damian states before walking away.

While Damian was already used to the environment of the Dupain-Cheng household, Jon on the other hand was having a dream. His excitement to finally seeing Adrien has finally caught up to him. So, imagine when he jumps off on the couch, nearly flying when the door’s knob begins to jiggle.

Their eyes locked, blue meeting green for the first time outside of a screen. Jon stares agape at Adrien who stares back with the same energy.

Marinette who took notice of the situation sneaks past the two and into the arms of her boyfriend. Jason watches from behind with a bowl of popcorn in hand waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“H-h-how?” Adrien’s voice squeaks before pulling Jon into his arms.

Even though the two are lost within each other’s thoughts they could still hear Jason’s laughter and the smack that follows.

“I practically beg my parents to see you,” Jon answers as just as flustered as Adrien. “Then begged Damian to bring me.” He quickly adds looking away from the blonde.

For a moment the two stay in their own world not noticing the flashes of light and whispers.

Not from afar, Marinette tries not to laugh, her lips purse into a fine line. Damian watches shaking his head and tries to grab some of Jason’s popcorn.

The next day, Adrien ran out of the bakery with Jon right behind him. They were going to visit Andre’s ice cream cart. All under the pretense of being just friends, but all who knew them thought otherwise. Marinette had decided to skip this trip in favor of walking the Seine with Damian then planning on making Jason a new leather jacket. Jason wanted to check out the crime rate in Paris walking around the area.

Adrien DuPain-Cheng @adrienwhopuns Ice cream from Andre is always the best especially now that I’d shared the experience with @jonnyboykent [Attached is a photo of Adrien and Jon holding ice cream cones with matching flavors that are similar to their hair, lip, and eye colors along with other flavors. In the background is Andre waving at the two with a large smile]

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes Replying to @adrienwhopuns 🤩Aw… you guys look cute having your outing an all that. How was the ice cream?

Jon Kenting Me @jonnyboykent Replying to @adrienwhopuns and @marinettewhomemes The ice cream was delicious. 10/10 recommend it.

Adrien laughs the moment he looks at their replies. He then turns to Jon, who was on the verge of eating his last scoop of ice cream. Jon, noticing that Adrien is staring at him, blushes lightly before they continue to walk. The walk was peaceful until…

“Adrien!” The two due turns around to see a tall dark-skin teen running towards them. Beyond the teen are two females with varying facial expressions.

“Hey Nino, haven’t heard from you since college graduation.” Adrien murmurs the second Nino had gotten closer to the two. Jon could only watch, clearly intrigued by this new encounter. He had heard much about Nino from Adrien and the downfall of their friendship as the final years of college came to end.

“Yeah dude, I wish we could have hanged out more. But you know how it is.” Nino states rubbing the back of his neck. “Who’s your friend?”

“Nino, this is Jon, he’s a friend of mine and the friend of Mari’s boyfriend that came to visit us.” Jon could feel the tension growing as the two girls come closer. The ombre haired teen, looked like she wanted to yell or hit something awhile the other wearing clashing oranges looks like she is about to commit murder. Upon seeing this, Jon moves closer to Adrien for support.

“That cool, dude, but when were you going to tell me that you and Marinette are siblings? Lila had gotten the whole class thinking you two were a thing.” Unbeknown to Nino, he had just proved the thoughts that Adrien and Marinette have been theorizing since the two had been chosen to go to a different Lycée than the one that most of their former classmates went to.

“Why would Lila even think that? You know what I don’t even want to know.” Adrien says. Subtly, he tightens his around the edge of his shirt. “Mari and I have practically been siblings for a couple of years now, and we’re much happy about that.”

“That’s good to hear, man,” Nino says unsure where this conversation will go. The aspiring DJ could feel the gnawing questions that Alya was soon going to throw at the blonde the moment he is done.

“Sunshine,” Alya explodes in the background to which all three males roll their eyes at. “We haven’t seen you in two years and this is how you treat us. Lila was your ex at the very least say hi to my gurl.”

Jon looks to the reporter as if she had grown a second head. Never once had Adrien mention being in a relationship with the liar, and for the years that he has known Adrien, he’s been single. In fact, the only times Lila even mentions is when she makes an outcry on twitter within Adrien’s threads. Jon knows that when the announcement was made, this Lila person had the biggest voice; commenting questions that Adrien didn’t need or want to answer.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Alya. I haven’t been in a relationship since I tried it out with Kagami and that was back in college. I’m as single as a pringle and not looking for anyone.” The subtle side-eyed look to Jon said otherwise. Jon could have sworn his face turn red after realizing what the blonde had done.

Alya scoffs, “Yeah right. Lila told me you had done out on dates after we all left Dupont, she even had pictures to prove it.” She then grabs hold of Lila’s wrist and pulls the girl closer to three. Lila batters her eyes, trying to be a flirt, little did she know.

“Alya, anyone can fake a photo, there is a reason Photoshop exists. Knowing Lila, she probably showed you photos from our shoots and changed them. She did it once to Mari, and I have no doubt in mind that she did it again.” Narrowing his eyes, Adrien glance away from Alya and onto Lila.

“C’mon Adrikins,” Jon and Adrien wince at the old nickname Chloe had given the blonde be used by Lila, “We had so many good memories together. As much as I miss them, I’m much happier with my long-distance relationship with Damiboo.” The liar then gushes to which Alya joins in for.

“And who is this Damiboo, you speak of?” Jon asks, speaking for the first time since his day with Adrien was interrupted.

“Oh, it’s Damian Wayne, of course. He’s such a sweetheart. You know, I could introduce you to him sometime.” Adrien and Jon turn to each other, both holding in the laughter that was threatening to come out. Yeah, Damian is a sweetheart but only to animals and Marinette, beyond those two things, he’s everything but.

“Good to know, well it was nice seeing you guys again.” Adrien waves to the girls before turning to Nino whispering. “If you need to get away from them some time, DM me and I’ll give you my newest number.”

Nino’s eyes widen in excitement before he quickly nods. Nino misses his best bud and it was hurting him to see Adrien living his truth while he is stuck with everyone that decided to remain together.

While walking back to the bakery, Jon had some interesting things to say about the whole encounter. Never has he ever heard anyone call Damian by that nickname, he is amazed out how he handled the situation knowing how much mental damage the liar had placed on Adrien and to an extend Marinette.

“I’m sorry our outing was ruined by them, I wasn’t—” Adrien tries to apologize but is interrupted by Jon stopping and placing his hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

“I had fun regardless of them. Wanna try again later tonight, perhaps a movie.” Jon sends Adrien a reassuring smile who nods happily at the offer. It was a good offer and gives them more alone time before he had to leave with Damian and Jason.

“I’d like that.”

When the boys had returned to the bakery, they are greeted by Sabine handing an order to a customer before mention that everyone is in the living room. Adrien quickly grabs Jon’s wrist and moves to the mentioned room.

Marinette is annihilating Jason on Ultimate Mecha Strike III, his cries of defeat bring music to Damian’s ears as he reads a novel.

“So, did anything exciting happened?” Marinette asks her eyes never leaving the screen. Flawless victory. Jason sighs and turns to the duo then blanches. He hands Marinette a twenty and shakes his head.

“Nothing happened…well except running into Nino,” Adrien answers, though he wonders why Jason had given Marinette a twenty.

“That’s good,” Marinette finally turns to him and waves her controller. “Wanna play around, and while I’m kicking your butt you can tell me all about your encounter with Nino.” Adrien shrugs and takes the controller that Jason had left on the couch to proceed to raid the fridge. No matter what time of day, Jason always raid the fridge for food.

“So, Kent, when are you going to tell him?” He heard Damian ask as the video game’s music raises and his attention turns to something else.

The day slowly became nighttime to which Jon and Adrien had decided to invite Damian and Marinette to the movies. Marinette took one look at them before saying no and for them to have fun. However, what they didn’t hear was her saying, “Come back dating or not at all” after they had left the bakery.

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes Loverboy 1 and loverboy 2 went to movies. Should I place a bet on what they’re going to see? I swear it will be a sap or action movie, knowing my brother. [Attached is a poll with three movie suggestions.]

Sending off the tweet, she looks up to her boyfriend’s chin. They were resting on her bed looking at the starry night sky from her skylight. Damian had his arms wrapped around her waist as she rests her head on his chest. They love snuggling together especially when they know that his brothers, specifically Jason, weren’t going to barge in on them.

“Fifty saying that they won’t confess even after seeing my tweet,” Marinette states lifting herself up to play with Damian’s hair.

“That’s a fool’s bet, Angel.” Damian counters causing Marinette to pout. She hates it when he’s right, but look fifty euros or dollars can do a lot for her.

“Eh, you’re right.” Marinette decides to switch the topic. “I’m going to miss you when you leave in a couple of days. It’s fun having you around.”

“We won’t be separate for long; we have video chats to keep us company.” Damian knows full damn well that video chat isn’t the same as seeing her in person. His own family loves it when Marinette’s around him because he acts his age, a normal sixteen-year teen.

“Dams, it’s not the same.” Marinette playfully hits his chest. Damian kisses Marinette’s forehead before smothering her kisses on the cheek. Marinette’s nose scrunches with the amount of love he is showing her.

“As much as I love being in your arms, you know how papa gets when it’s late and you’re not in your guest room with Jay-Jay.” Damian groans but he understands. Instead of staying at a hotel, Tom and Sabine were willing to let the boys stay at their home with strict sleeping guidelines, more specifically for Damian.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Angel.” As he pecks her lips, Marinette smiles then waves her boyfriend a farewell.

Adrien DuPain-Cheng @adrienwhopuns Can someone tell @jonnyboykent that the movie wasn’t scary? It was a good non-horror movie. [Attached is a photo of Jon behind Adrien covering his eyes.]

Adrien and Jon had arrived late from the movies that night. Hugging each other, neither one of them wanted to let go. Jon ended up brushing Adrien’s hair with his hands as Adrien just rest his head against the half-Kryptonian’s chest. They stayed like that for a moment before crashing on the living room couch.

When Marinette woke up the following morning, she immediately took photos of them sleeping. Yes, these will be very helpful when giving her in-law speech at their wedding or for blackmail, whichever one comes first.

“Wake up you goofs and tell me about last night.” Marinette playfully hits Adrien’s leg forcing the poor teen to groan and move. He glares at Marinette like a cat that didn’t want to be disturbed.

“Morning Mars, where’s Damian?” Jon asks looking around as he wipes the sleep away from his eyes. Marinette answers with a shrug. “Ugh, I’m going to go get changed.” Jon then moves and leaves.

The second Jon was out of hearing range, Adrien looks down and murmurs, “I think I like Jon.”

“Of course, you do, you won’t be hanging out with him otherwise.”

“No, no, like more than just a friend.”

Marinette’s eyes widen with excitement. She tries to contain her squeal. “I knew it! You got to tell him before he leaves.”

Adrien rubs his arm; a faint blush crosses his face. “I don’t know; I don’t want to ruin what we have and—”

“And nothing, you like him, kitty.” Marinette became determined to get the two teens together.

In the other room, Damian was having the same conversation with Jon.

“About time,” Jason says putting on his jacket.

“Last night was so amazing, but—”

“But nothing Kent, walk up to him and kiss him,” Damian states crossing his arms sharing a knowing look with his brother.

“If anything, ask Pixie to help set the mood. I’m sure she already has it planned out.”

“I don’t know…” Jon literally was avoiding his best friend’s glare at him. However, they were right, but was he ready to destroy three years of friendship for a romance? Nope, the idea seems to be too much of a risk.

The two Wayne boys growl out in frustration, this was hopeless.

Damian, Jon, and Jason’s last day in Paris was met with tearful goodbyes and relaxation. Marinette was already making plans to visit Damian in Gotham while Adrien and Jon danced around each other.

They flirted opening with one another but never made any advances. It was driving everyone insane.

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes Imma about to kill a bitch if these two don’t kiss already.

The day was slowly coming to an end. After a series of goodbye hugs and kisses, Sabine had taken the boys to the airport. Never once did Adrien no Jon admitted their feelings to another and that aggravated Marinette to no end. When will the two just admit it already?

Jon and Adrien resumed their daily chats messaging whether it was through video or text. Adrien would come out smiling after each message which made the family happy to see once again after a day of pouting Adrien.

For months everything was going great until a news article across seas mention that the American heroes are in trouble. Superboy is down along with a few other young heroes. At first, the article was nothing and that changed when Damian had called Marinette and ask for Adrien. Jonathon was in the hospital. Immediately, Adrien went into a massive panic, nearly becoming akumatized if it wasn’t for Marinette grabbing the butterfly and purifying it before any damage could be done.

For days, Adrien was restless and worried. He calls Damian for updates every day hoping for a miracle. Tikki and Plagg reassured him that he’ll make it out. This goes on for a week. His twitter account less than active. He barely eats, pays attention in school, and nearly failed an exam if it wasn’t for Marinette.

Then on one faithful late-night Adrien’s phone rings. He was barely functioning when he had answered. It was Jon, he was okay and no need to worry. That short phone call didn’t ease Adrien’s worry.

Marinette’s and Damian’s one-year anniversary was coming up. Adrien and Jon’s daily chats became nothing but scarce. He would try and message the half-Kryptonian on more than one occasion. Sometimes he would receive a reply, sometimes he didn’t. Adrien knows that Damian is coming back to Paris to surprise Marinette. Marinette was working on a new gown to show to Damian as a tribute to their anniversary. Helping Damian was keeping Jon off his mind.

“Luka what am I supposed to do, I like him, I really like him,” Adrien says laying down on the chaise in the Miraculous team HQ back at the old bakery. Luka sat on a stool with a clipboard in hand and his guitar place beside him. This was becoming an everyday occurrence for the two of them.

“Uh-huh,” Luka nods writing something down before replacing the clipboard with his guitar. Playing a few notes, Luka knew what to say to Adrien and as a plus, the music calmed Adrien down just enough to relax. “Have you tried sending a letter?”

Adrien thought about it. Sending a letter wasn’t something he did for Jon since the pen-pal program ended and before they started to call and text each other. It was a start at best, but would Jon receive his letter in time? Would he even read it? Has he changed addresses? Too many questions ran through the poor blonde’s mind.

So, after thinking about long and hard, Adrien opted to send Jon a letter. He had to text Jason to make sure he had the correct address to the letter to Jon. It took him a day to write and have Marinette proofread it. The letter was no ordinary “how you’re doing” letter but a confession from the heart. He had poured his heart out into the letter mentioning every time he felt whole when being around Jon. A few teardrops onto the sheet of paper at least once or twice.

After sending the letter, it felt like something was lifted from his chest. Marinette was there to support him and hug him as he cries out his worries.

Nette from Mars @marinettewhomemes I never thought that I would have experienced a one-year anniversary with someone who is not from France, regardless, Happy Anniversary Dami! [Attached is silhouette photo of Damian kissing Marinette’s hand]

While Adrien was helping Tom and the kwamis calm down Marinette, who was is a mass panic about today, Sabine had gone to go pick up a group of people from the airport. Originally, it was supposed to be Damian who was going to come to Paris alone, but that plan changed with an addition of a way more people.

“I can’t believe, Demon Spawn managed to keep a relationship going for a year,” Tim says sipping on a cup of coffee that he had brought from the airport. Everyone in the car was talking amongst themselves congratulating or teasing Damian.

Sabine could only smile at the commotion that was happening in her car. It was always nice to see them, but it does disappoint her that Bruce couldn’t make it, unlike the boys.

When they had arrived at the bakery, the majority of new visitors ran inside. Sabine could hear the cheers and screams of happiness from her location outside. She turns to the lone figure who was rubbing his arm anxiously and gives him a soft smile. Sabine then walks inside and seconds later Marinette and Adrien run outside. Damian appears behind Marinette wrapping his arms around her as Adrien madly dashes over to the lone figure.

“Jon!” Adrien cries out crashing his body into Jon’s. Jon holds Adrien tightly as tears threaten to shed from eyes. “What are you doing here?” Adrien breaks the embrace to look him in the eyes.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I treated you. I shouldn’t have—” Adrien's lips brush against Jon’s effectively cutting the taller dark-haired male off.

In the background, Marinette looks like she’s about to commit murder. “Great now I have to share an anniversary with him too.” It may have come off as mean but the mischievous glint in her eyes says otherwise. “Have him home before dinner, Jon.” She then yells back before Damian twirls her around and takes her inside.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for six months,” Adrien says breaking the kiss for air. Red covers Jon’s face as he pulls Adrien in for another kiss.

“And I have been wanting to do that for a year.” Jon then says breaking the second kiss. This it was Adrien’s face that turns bright red rivaling Ladybug’s former suit.

Adrien DuPain-Cheng @adrienwhopuns It’s official, I’m no longer single as a pringle! Thx mom for taking this photo! #yesimgay [Attached is a photo of Adrien and Jon kissing in the sunset facing away from the camera]

After five years of dating, Damian had proposed to Marinette first. Then Jon had to go and propose a little under a year later to Adrien. Both Marinette and Adrien had said yes to their significant other. What really got into a heated argument was planning the wedding. Marinette wanted to wait a year or two before walking down the aisle and Adrien wanted to get it done and over with. However, that was not the case as everyone wanted to get involved. Tom and Sabine wanted to make the cake, the Wayne’s and the Kent’s wanted to fund the weddings, and Marinette had to make the outfits for her and Adrien.

After waiting for a little under two years, the two pairs decided a double wedding would be less expensive than paying for two separate events and it work out seeing they share an anniversary day anyways.

Then the royal day has arrived.

Tom and Sabine are crying as they help their children get into their designated outfits. Marinette was wearing a laced white ball gown with red accents. Sabine had a family heirloom that the women wear at their weddings to give to Marinette. Tikki had given Marinette her ladybug luck as part of her wedding gift to the guardian and her chosen. Adrien was wearing a suit that was similar to Tom’s when he had married Sabine. Marinette had also made him a Chat Noir theme bow tie to match.

Soon the music was blaring throughout the venue. At the altar, Damian and Jon were anxious beyond belief. They thought, telling they're significant others about their nightly activities was anxious, but this takes the cake. Together they wait for the rest of the procession to end and the music to pick up at the arrival of their loved ones. At the end of the hall, Tom stands in the middle with Marinette and Adrien to the side of him. Tom tries to hold it together as he walks them down to the alter. Sabine was already in tears along with Lois as they were sitting close to each other.

Everything running smoothly. The officiant would speak to then as a whole, just that they had practice in rehearsals until the exchange of vows. Marinette and Damian had done theirs first it was romantic and just right for them. Then Adrien and Jon had followed suit. Adrien’s vows were very similar to the letter he had sent Jon all those years ago as Jon made the promise of never leaving him in life or in death.

After exchanging the rings everyone at the venue could see the anticipation to say “I do” between the two couples. In fact, the Officiant could barely the pronouncement of marriage before they had kissed their soon-to-be husbands or wife. Everyone applauded. Marinette was resting her head against Damian’s shoulder interlocking their hands in the process as Adrien was holding Jon closely never wanting to let go.

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[shianhygge-imagines]

Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] [V/Reader] {Devil May Cry} The Mortal Half

AN: I apologize for the wait! The road of life took a bit of a wild turn, and my writing (along with a few other things) suffered for it.

On another note... anyone as excited for DMC5: Special Edition as I am :D 

This chapter is a long one that I wanted to write and post as soon as possible (I was tempted to wait until all chapters of Visions of V were out). I will probably come back to re-explore V’s character at a later time because damn it, Visions of V really kicked my ass with the character development.

WARNING: As I have mentioned in a separate post, there is a section of smut in here. This is actually the first full smut scene I’ve ever written, so please excuse the awkwardness... and the kinks... and if it sucks.

So, yeah. It’s now a Vergil/Reader as well as a V/Reader story. Cheers!

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|    |First Chapter|    |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

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4th May 01:40pm

When you woke the next morning, Shadow was still curled into your side, its eyes closed and seemingly content despite the afternoon sunlight pouring through the windows. Though you’d slept peacefully through the rest of the night, it was rather strange having another presence in the same bed as you. After all, you hadn’t shared your bed with another individual since Vergil had started leaving on his alarmingly frequent trips away from your home in Red Grave City. And although it had been years since you visited that place, the mere thought of those nights brought a frown to your previously content face. Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, you mentally gave the box of memories a rough shove away.

It’s best not to dwell on unpleasant thing, Y/N. You muse to yourself with the slightest tensing of your body.

Sensing your change in mood, Shadow shifted to rest a lightly dozing head on your stomach, cracking a single ruby eye open to check on you as a purr rumbles throughout its body in an effort to calm you.

Running a hand through the shadow panther’s silky ‘fur’, you hummed absentmindedly in response. “Just unpleasant memories, Shadow.” When the remnant of your husband’s memories merely huffs in a feline scoff, you turn to cuddle into the Nightmare demon. “I am 100% sure that V didn’t tell me the truth last night… but if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, prying is generally not the correct course to take to learn the whole truth. Still though,” you sigh wistfully, “My life has been so chaotic and cryptic that there are times where I wish that I was born a normal girl.”

Although you wished to say more, your lips clam up the moment that you hear a knock at the door. “Y/N? It’s nearly 2pm. Are you awake, yet?”

You share a look with Shadow, “Well, speak of the devil, I guess.” You don’t bother moving as you call out to the moral man, “You can come in, V. I’m awake, but I sure as hell ain’t getting out of bed yet.” Even though you say this, you lift your head to peer over Shadow’s dark body as V enters the room with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you have any intention of leaving your bed, Y/N? It’s well into the afternoon.” V inquires with a furrowed brow as he closes the door and continues forward to the side of the bed with a limp.

“Oh…. Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You remark cheerfully, settling back down into the sheets as you pet Shadow. “I don’t think I will any time soon, no.”

Unsure as to how to proceed with your blatant denial to rise from bed, V gestures towards the edge of your king sized bed. “May I have a seat?”

“Knock yourself out, V. This bed is too big anyways, so… ‘free real estate’ I guess.” You found yourself repeating the meme that a group of orphans in Fortuna City had taken the time to teach you… though you were unsure if you had used the meme in the proper context.

Your eyes shifted to meet V’s green once you felt the edge of the bed dip to your left. In the daylight, with the sun’s rays pouring into the room, V seemed… sickly. It was worrying how skinny and pale he was despite the hint of power you could feel in him. If it weren’t for his contract with Vergil’s remnants, you would not have any confidence in V’s ability to defend himself should you all take on Urizen. And once Vergil had been defeated again (though you found yourself in pain just thinking about killing your beloved), would the powers disappear and leave the young man before you weak and on the verge of collapse?

“There’s no need to worry, Y/N.” V’s gaze is almost gentle as he reassures you, “I promise that I’ll not suddenly collapse.” Not realizing that you had been staring, you blinked your eyes and mumbled an apology. “No, don’t apologize. It is only natural to doubt my abilities when I look like this.” The young man gestures towards his weakened body with a carefully bitter expression that would stick with you for days to come. “My powers are limited, which is why it is absolutely imperative that we stop Urizen before he grows too powerful.” When you don’t respond, trying to find a way to comment without offending him, V took it as a sign of sadness. “I couldn’t help but overhear you before I entered. That you wished that you were born to a normal life.”

Your face scrunches up as you force yourself to sit, “If I’m being perfectly honest, V… I don’t really know you well enough to pour my heart and soul out.”

V’s smile remains slightly bitter even as he pulls out the anthology of William Blake poems and hands it over to you. “Fair enough, Ms. Y/N. By all means, save your words. I only ask that you listen to what I have learned about you and your past.” When you reluctantly take a hold of the tome, V gestures towards it, “The note written on the back cover of that volume seems to imply that the person who gifted it to you was rather fond of you.”

The book’s cover was immaculate, but upon closer inspection, you noticed that the pages have yellowed from its age. Brows scrunched and curious, you immediately flipped to the back cover and withheld a gasp at the painfully familiar handwriting scrawled along the back cover.

To my beautiful silver rose,

Perhaps it is just the slightest bit vain that I gift this book to you. After all, an exact copy of this anthology sits on my book shelf in the study. But I noticed that you’ve taken a deeper interest in these old poems as of late, so I sought out a copy for yourself. Please do not think I turn a blind eye to your sadness when I am away, Y/N. I do my best to comfort you while I have you in my arms, but I must see my goals through. When I am gone, please read these poems and think of me. Just as I will think of you.

Rest assured that no matter how far I travel, Y/N, that I will always find my way back to you.

Your loving husband,

Vergil Sparda

“You were in that place, weren’t you?” You asked V as your fingers traced the note written into the cover. “There is no way you’d have this particular volume if you hadn’t been.”

V nodded, his eyes carefully watching as you caressed the book. “When I found Vergil’s remnants, they had been drawn to that book which had been left in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“I left it there when Vergil embarked on his quest through Hell.” You admitted, melancholic. “The book had been a constant reminder of an empty promise, so I tried to bury my past. Obviously it didn’t work, but I left the book in Vergil’s childhood room regardless.”

“Why the book?” V wondered, “Aside from the note in the back, the tome seems ordinary.”

Handing the book back to the younger man, you merely smiled a tame smile, “It was a symbol of hope that I didn’t want, as well as a constant reminder that the man I love abandoned me in favor of demonic power.” Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a robe and ventured into the bathroom, only a final statement leaving your lips before the door shut behind you, “And nothing’s worse than to be reminded that I wasn’t enough.”

22nd May 11:32am

You’re not sure if you should be worried or relieved by how easy it was to trail V through the city wreckage as you sprinted and jumped from one roof to another. The mysterious young man traversed the streets below with his Nightmare demons protecting him as low leveled demons appeared along the path. Over the course of the past few days, you and V had taken shelter within your home in Red Grave City. Although there were times where you interacted, V regularly ventured out into the city on patrols and supply runs, seemingly under the impression that you were still injured from the encounter with Urizen at the heart of the Qliphoth Tree. More often than not, V would leave in the afternoons and return in the morning.

Although you were touched by his care for your well-being, you still couldn’t but feel distrustful and suspicious of V. The names of his demon contracts… Hence your current trailing… and as it turns out, his actual hair color is white.

With how many demons there were roaming the streets, you were surprised that V had lasted this long. Though, from your spot seated on the roof above the corner where V fought to protect a small group of surviving humans, you could tell that the younger man was becoming weaker the more he used his abilities. You would jump down and aid him if he needed it, but only if he needed it.

Your initial assessment of V was that he didn’t care for humans in the slightest after watching him walk fast the human corpses without a care. The way the younger looking man had gazed upon the carnage with indifference… you remembered shivering and thinking that there was no way he was completely human. Though, after that night, you were pleased to learn that V had quickly taken up the role as protector while the humans evacuated.

Your attention drifted back into the present when V slumped over below you, exhausted as he sat upon a pile of demon corpses. The humans that he had protected were cowering against the wall opposite of V, and you frowned when none rose to offer aid to the sickly man, who had begun to pale more than he normally did.

You heard V heave a tired sigh as he asked Griffon a question, “How many days has it been?”

The demon summon flapped its wings and hovered above his master, “Three.”

V slumped over, curling in upon himself, his dark hair hanging to cover his face. “I’m not sure that I can even last a month.” Your frown deepened at that comment. That’s news to me… shit. Now I feel bad for not helping him. You rose from your seated position and removed your eyes from V to sweep the area with a vigilant gaze.

“You’re just going willy-nilly, spending all your strength like that.” Griffon squawked mockingly, “Nicely done, buddy. If you continue like this, you’re gonna croak before the kid even returns.”

So, V’s dying? You wondered, Who is he? What’s his deal? How is he involved in this mess to begin with? Your gaze also darkens when the humans call V and Griffon monsters. We have to protect humanity, yes. But this is one of those times where I understand Vergil’s distaste for humanity. Then again… nothing is perfect.

Your eyes sweep briefly back down to make sure that V was in the clear while searching for food just as you felt several demonic presences appear behind you. Stepping away from the ledge, you nodded and unsheathed the Totsuka just as several Hell Bats and a Lusachia attempt to ambush you.

Your steps are quiet as you slide under several fireballs and sprint across the rooftop to a less narrow roof. “Okay, folks. I’m going to have to ask you to be as quiet as possible during this entire transaction we got going here.” You chirp with a smirk, voice carefully lowered to just below your normal speaking voice. “I don’t want my friend knowing that I’m spying on him. Heh.” As expected, none of the demons respond, opting to rush you with fireballs and incantations.

Your feet are moving before your brain catches up with the attacks, running in wide arcs and tight turns to avoid the incoming fireballs and incantation circle. “Sorry, what was that?” Your grin is feral as you push off from the rooftop in a wide swipe at the Lusachia, striking it with a shallow cut before kicking off of it in a backflip, free hand pulling out your Silver Rose to shoot it in the face a few times. “I couldn’t hear what you were saying!” As you stick the landing, you shoot it once more before raising the same hand to your ears, “You’re gonna have to speak louder!”

Of course the Lusachia can only groan as it falls, dying from the wounds you’ve inflicted upon it. Around you, the Hell Bats screech and rush, swooping down in lines of fire as you duck and dodge. “No, no! I wasn’t talking to you guys! You’re a bit too loud, so imma have to ask you to shut up!” Just as two Hell Bats swoop down to attack you from both sides, you holster the Silver Rose and Totsuka, getting into a wide stance. When the bats are close enough, you unsheathe the Totsuka in a single movement, cutting down the demons before they could even touch you.

The remaining Hell Bat screeches and flies back towards the grocery store’s roof, but you only grin and follow, Totsuka sheathed once more. “No, no! I’m gonna getcha!”

You are probably a step away from killing the bat yourself, when you notice a giant meteor suddenly appear in the sky above you. “Ah! Nope!” You are just in time to kick off the grocery store roof and flip to safety when Nightmare crashes into the grocery store, completely decimating the building. Wincing at the loss of the area’s last remaining food source, you crouch down upon the ledge of another roof and scan over the wreckage below. “…that was overkill.”

It seems… from how loudly Griffon was protesting, that it agreed with your assessment. “You’re killin’ me here, V! Didja really have to take it that far? You could’ve just-oh, I don’t even know where to begin!”

You watch as a boy and his mother walk out of the wrecked grocery store before jumping down from the rooftop, casually strolling over to where V and Griffon continued to converse. You were about to speak when V crouched down and suddenly took a bite out of a demon’s carcass.

The only thing you could do at seeing the younger man eat the demon meat was dry heave loudly.

Both V and Griffon freeze before turning their heads to look at you. “Aw shit!” Griffon curses, “It’s the Lady Sparda!”

You hold back the gag threatening to escape as you approach the two, eyes trained on the blood staining V’s mouth. There’s unfiltered horror on V’s face even as you crouch down and wipe away the blood with a handkerchief. “Raw demon meant cannot be good for you.” The horror softens when you sigh and offer V a hand, “Come on. I still have canned food in the pantry back home. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You don’t see the grief and regret upon V’s face as you turn to lead him out of the wreckage, hand in hand.

~~~~~

V’s Point of View

V’s green eyes never leave your back the entire way back to the house that Vergil had bought you all those years ago. He is exhausted from overusing his abilities, his mind muddled and unfocused. V can tell that the silence bothers you. He’s known that the silence bothers you ever since you’d both fled from this very city when you were children. Still, the past few hours have rendered him too tired to speak. So the silence continues.

Even as you fix him a meal.

Even as you sit down with him to eat.

Even as you guide him to the bathroom.

Even as you place a set of his pajamas on the counter.

Even as you leave the bathroom with a comment that you’d be in the study.

Even in his mute state, V doesn’t fail to see the melancholy in your eyes.

As he undresses, leaving his demon blood soiled clothes in the sink, V laments his current situation.

The house that he’d bought for you is still very much the same as it was over twenty years ago. Aside from the changes in products and appliances on the inside, it is as he left it. There are signs that Y/N doesn’t live in the building as often as she should… canned and dried food products in the pantry… a fridge empty except for bottled water and frozen meals… untouched kitchen appliances… a vacuum that seemed to be over ten years old… dust gathering in the unused rooms where they had planned to put a baby crib… his old clothes packed into boxes and shoved into the very same dusty rooms…

When the overly large bathtub is filled with hot water, V forces himself into the separate shower to quickly rinse off the dried blood and grime coating his skin. In the back of his mind, he recalls a memory where you told him that it was gross to sit in filth when taking a bath. The memory brings a constricting feeling to his chest and he doesn’t care that he drips water everywhere as he leaves the shower in favor of the bathtub.

The soap used in the shower is the same scent you’ve always used. The brand has changed, but it seems that you haven’t. His chest constricts some more when he realizes that you haven’t changed much since the last he saw you aside from your overuse of snark and slang. Sinking into the hot water and wrapped in your scent, V laments that the melancholy in your eyes was nothing new. When he was Vergil… a young Vergil from over twenty years ago… the last year spent with you before Temen Ni Gru… there were times where he noticed your eyes fill with melancholy. V winces, visibly in pain as he forces himself to remember. Vergil had known you were sad and lonely… but he had chosen to ignore your pain.

And even now, when he was no longer that man, V continues to hurt you.

The mortal half slips under the water before he knew it, his mind running wild with reflection.

Strange.

I feel rather peculiar.

I’m scared because I am weak.

I’ve resorted to depending on others because I am afraid.

That is what the weak do.

I’m…

…ever since I got this body, all I’ve been doing are things that I don’t want to do.

All of my thoughts are things I don’t want to think about.

(Y/N. Mother. Dante.)

While I’ve always intended on reflecting on why I lost (to Dante… to Mundus),

The reality is, I’ve moved on a long time ago.

I always thought I could fill this emptiness with power.

Anything that I lacked could be compensated with raw power.

How ironic.

It was only after I was stripped of all my strength that I realized…

That it was always within reach.

Always.

Deep inside, the answer was always there.

~~~~~

Y/N’s Point of View

“V?” You knock on the door to the master bathroom after around ten minutes, intent on taking the man’s clothes in order to wash them. “V, I need your clothes so I can put them in the wash.” When there is no answer, you knock again, “V? If you don’t answer me, I’m just gonna come in.” Your brows furrow at the lack of answer. “… Well, I warned you. I’m coming in.”

There’s a distinct lack of sound inside the bathroom when you enter although the dirty clothes are in the sink, “Um… V?” Your gaze sweeps across the large bathroom to rest upon the filled bathtub, and you frown when you notice the bubbles rising from the middle of the large tub. Creeping closer, you can see V under the water, his gaze empty and melancholic. No more bubbles rise from his lips, and you suddenly realize that V might be too tired to notice that he was drowning.

You don’t notice the wet floor, and you don’t care that the man is completely nude. Something in you beckons you forward, and you practically sprint to climb into the bathtub, taking a firm hold of his torso and lifting V’s upper half out of the water.

V’s green eyes blink blearily as he stares into yours. “V?” You whisper, letting go of his torso once he’d sat up on his own. Your hands come up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Are you okay?”

The man lets out a shaky breath and ducks his head, nodding. “I appreciate the sentiment, Y/N. But I wasn’t in any danger. You didn’t have to climb in to save me.”

“You weren’t breathing, V.” You deadpanned, bringing up a hand to flick his forehead. “Nobody’s dying in my house.”

The two of you are quiet for a few moments until V turns to look away from you. “As much as I am grateful for you kindness, I don’t want to imagine what your husband would do to me if he finds out that you bathed with another man.”

You flush a deep red when you notice the position you were in… straddling a completely nude V in the bathtub while you sit in a soaked white nightgown that was becoming see through. “I… uh…”

You’re at a loss for words and continue to be at a loss for words when V turns back to stare you down with darkened eyes. He scoots you closer, pressing you against his body as he teases lowly, “Unless… I entice you…?”

You swallow hard when you notice that something hard is pressed up against you.

~~~~~~

Third Person Omniscient Point of View

“I… don’t…” The water is starting to cool in the bathtub, sending chills up your body even as you flush from head to toe. The only source of warmth is from V, who holds you close, his green eyes gazing at you with a myriad of emotions… Lust… Affection… Loneliness… Guilt… Mischief… Love… It has been over twenty years since someone has made love to you, and for all your faith and devotion, you want to feel that intense pleasure… that warm intimacy once more. You know that a demonic Vergil has run rampant across your home city, that what remains of your husband’s humanity has bonded with the man before you… You know that something within you call for V and beckons you to continue… to give in.

The moment that you pulled V out of the water, soaked from head to toe with concern in you eyes, V knew that he could continue this charade with you. He’d been cruel to you for most of your life, and he couldn’t bear to be cruel for another minute. He wants you to know him completely once more. As Vergil as well as V. What he wanted and need this entire time had been something you’d been willing to give him from the beginning, and Vergil had been a fool to cast you aside. Yet, with you pressed so close to him, your scent invading his senses, all V can think about is his love for you. A love that had never died, just stubbornly ignored. He’d neglected you for over twenty years because of his mistake. And now, if you are willing, he would make love to you until that melancholy has been chased away.

You gasp when V presses his lips to the crook of your neck, whimpering as he simply brushes his lips over your skin in light caresses. The mortal half smirks against your skin and whispers to you in a low rumble. “I’ve slacked in my duties, Y/N.” His hands trail up your bare thighs resting on either side of his hips, bunching up the material as his hands rise sensually to rest upon your waist.

“W-what are you…saying?” It would be remiss of you to not notice the same phrase that Vergil used on the day he asked you to marry him. When did your breathing become heavy?

V’s lips trail upwards along the column of your throat achingly slow as he kisses teasingly along the way. His thumb traces gentle patterns on the skin of your waist even as he lifts you from his hips to place you close to the edge of the bathtub. He’s on all fours, knelt before you with his arms propped up on either side of your head as he continues the kiss until he’s at your ear. “I’ll show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” V growls as he gently nips your ear.

Shocked, you pull away to stare at the man. “V…” you plead, voice weak from arousal and heartbreak, “Please don’t play with my heart like this.”

The dark expression softens as V leans forward to press a loving kiss to your lips before pulling back. “I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Y/N. The greatest was leaving you in pursuit of power.” His green eyes are filled with guilt as he sighs miserably, “You were right. Power isn’t everything. And I was wrong to call you a burden all those years ago.” At the reminder, you flinch backwards, and suddenly it is no longer just guilt on V’s face, but self-loathing. “Because of me, we lost so much time. Over twenty years of sorrow and regrets, and I didn’t want this to be another regret.”

“So, you’re…”

“I am Vergil… but not quite.” V confirms, “I… made another mistake, and this is the result.”

V’s lip move to continue, but you quickly shut him up by pressing your lips firmly against his. Your arms are raised to drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss with a hungry moan. You part your lips before V can tease you, and heavy desire pools below when his tongue teases the roof of your mouth.

V’s hands find their way to the hem of your soaked nightgown, grasping the edges firmly and lifting when you separate briefly to assist him in undressing you. You hear your nightgown flop into the water as V tosses the article of clothing to the side, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You press yourself into V, hands rising to hold his face as your lips capture his once more. “Explanations can wait until tomorrow.” Your voice is thick with desire as you pull away just the slightest to leave the bathtub.

After casually slipping your soaked panties off, you turn back to V to beckon him after you. You can hear him leave the tub as you walk out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom.

(Smut Alert!!!)

You don’t make it to the bed before V catches up to you, his hand snatching yours and halting your progress forward. The air conditioning is on, and the cool breeze on your wet skin elicits a shiver through your body just as your nipples harden. Soon, your shivering is not from the cold air, but from the heat of having V’s naked body pressed into your back. His right arm moves to circle around your waist, pressing his palm flat against your pelvis while his left arm releases you in favor of cupping your left breast. You can feel him hard against the small of your back as V presses urgent kisses along your shoulder.

“Tell me, Y/N.” His voice is a husky growl between sensual kisses as his fingers tweak your nipple with a quick flick. “Did you ache for me while I was gone?” V’s right palm lowers to rest just over your mound drawing molten patterns just upwards of your clit. “Did you stay up touching yourself to thoughts of what I might do to you when I returned?”

You know your husband, and even if V wasn’t completely Vergil, the teasing was enough of a tell to know that he could play the long game. If you don’t answer. If you don’t let out the sinful sounds he’s looking for… V would refuse to continue. And after twenty plus years without, you didn’t want to wait another moment.

“Y-yes!” You moaned, body aching for more as your pussy gets wetter. “Every night that I’m alone.” The tortured whimper from your lips pleases V immensely as his hand dips lower to cup your sex, long fingers swiping just lightly before pulling away to show you just how wet you are.

“And when you thought of me during those nights, were you as soaked then as you are now?” His voice had been sinful as Vergil, but the deep airy whispers that V makes has you licking your lips in anticipation as his fingers play with your juices. V rests his chin upon your shoulder and brings his fingers up to his lips, “No, right?” You can’t reply, too entranced as he licks your juices off his fingers. “Hmmm.” He moans as you whimper, bringing his hand back down to rest exactly on your clit. “I want to taste more of you.” V growls, a finger toying with your clit while his remaining fingers dip into your slit, spreading your juices all over your lips.

Head tilted, you can only moan when V dips a long finger into your pussy before immediately pulling out. “V… please s-stop teasing me!” You beg, quivering as your hands raise to tug his arms close.

He hums and thrusts his hips into your back slightly, not enough for him to receive any pleasure from it, but enough so that you know how much harder he’s become. “Hmmm” V purrs into your ear, turning his hand so that it locks with yours, fingers intwined for just the moment, “Well, if that is what my love desires…” In a single fluid movement, he’d spun you around and gently guided you to rest upon your bed. “Then who am I to deny?”

Although sickly, you can’t help but salivate over how the black markings decorate his torso and arms. They trail in intricate patterns all over his torso and down to his pelvis, ending at… oh. Fuck. He’s longer than I expected. The part of him that stands at attention, partially curved up, draws your attention better than his beautiful green eyes and dark hair. You’re sure that V can hear how fast your heart is racing as he smirks, completely at ease as he saunters forward and crawls over you. There are whispers at the back of your mind telling you to touch him, but you only ignore them as V presses slow, open mouthed kisses along every inch of skin on his way up to your mouth.

He stops just shy of kissing your core, where an unbearable amount of heat has gathered.

He presses gentle, mournful kisses to the spot that Vergil and Urizen stabbed, his eyes briefly meeting yours with a silent plea for forgiveness.

He licks up the valley between your breasts, eyes closes as if he’s savoring the taste of your skin.

He issues a silent challenge by meeting your gaze as he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth while a hand plays with the other. You meet his gaze and stubbornly refuse to look away even as you feel his tongue flick and lap, even as the heat of his mouth becomes almost too much to bear.

When he finally makes his way to your mouth, V’s smiling, something that has always been rare even when he was Vergil. The slow kiss that follows is sweet and loving, but is interrupted as you gasp. V smirks smugly as his fingers circle your slit a few times before he presses a finger into you… then two. His green eyes watch you in adoration as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaked pussy, taking in your moans as if it were the sweetest melody he’d ever heard.

You can’t help the moans that fall from your lips or that your legs spread to give V more space. You want more.

“V!” You whimper, even as he presses a third in. “P-please!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear you, continuing to finger fuck your pussy as his thumb plays with your swollen clit. It has been over twenty years since he’d had you beneath him. And with all the shit he’s pulled in the past, he wants you to cum at least once before he takes you.

After years without, you don’t last as long as you’d hoped. The rush of pleasure builds up faster than you expect. Your legs stiffen and your toes curl as the heat builds up to a climax, sending you over the edge of wild abandon and heavy breaths.

You come back from the haze to find V grinning triumphantly, licking your juices from his fingers once more. When scowl dangerously, V only continues to grin. It doesn’t take much more than a push to reverse your positions, but still V’s grin persists.

“Not satisfied, my love?”

“You know damn well that I’m not satisfied.” You mutter with a pout, throwing your legs over his hips so that you can press your soaked lips against his throbbing cock. Biting your lip, you stay still for a few moments as you look down at V, his dark hair sprawled upon the bed and lustful gaze staring up.

“And how would you have me repent, Y/N?” The words are out of his mouth before V realizes it.

You hum, tracing your fingers along the black lines adorning his chest before moving your hips to slid your pussy along his cock. “I want you to fuck me, V.” His body tenses when you continue to tease him, “I want you to fill me up. To make me cum so many times that I forget my name. To make me scream so loud from pleasure that fucking Urizen can hear it from his stupid demon tree.”

A growl is your only answer before V’s gaze darkens once more and you find yourself pressed into the bed, watching as V positions himself between your legs, lining himself up so that the head of his weeping cock is pressed to your opening.

“If Urizen hears the sounds of your pleasure, he might be compelled to take you as well.” He’s teasing you again.

“Urgh, V, jus-ah!” You’re interrupted when his hips snap forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt.

“I’ve never been one to share.” V gasps, holding onto your hips as he pulls away and snaps back.

All you can do is moan and move to meet his hips, lewd noises filling your quiet home as V sets a quick pace. After years of denying yourself the pleasures of the flesh, you can feel your cunt stretch around V. Already sensitive from your previous orgasm, it takes everything for you not to cum again just from being filled. Your soft moans and gasps of his name fuel V’s desire, and soon, as you cry for more, he sets a brutal pace, pounding into your pussy as your writhe beneath him.

His green eyes are wild as he pounds deep into your womb, something like determination in his eyes, “Y/N.” Your name is like a prayer upon his lips, “You asked me to fill you up.”

If it was possible, another jolt of pleasure shot through your body and straight to your core, and you found yourself tightening around him at what V was implying. “Yes.” You moan, throwing your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, “Yes, V! Fuck! I need you to cum in me!”

Unable to stop himself anymore, V let go of whatever control he had and thrust into you with wild abandon. He didn’t even know if he could impregnate you in his current state, and he knew that it was reckless to try, but fuck if he wasn’t going to try anyways. It was all you’d ever wanted with Vergil. A family. And if he could give you this, too…

God, you wanted to be filled. The thought of finally having a child leaves you wailing and on the edge of release. You could feel him throb as he abandoned rhythm, muttering ‘I love you’ as his body quaked with each thrust before abruptly stopping. The moment you feel his warmth spilling deep into you is when you finally allow yourself to fall over the edge with a wordless moan, pussy pulsing as you milk V of his release.

Coming down from the high, you find yourself entangled in V’s arms, the both of you breathing heavy as you both lay on the bed. Like all times before Vergil left, the two of you lay in silence, content with each other’s presence.

(Smut end… *fans self* as a side note, they absolutely cleaned up after an additional two rounds :P)

23rd May 09:32am

You woke up to the sounds of a struggle, bolting from the bed with light steps and snatching the Silver Rose from your nightstand. You heard something clank and clatter from within the bathroom just as you pressed yourself to the wall, gun raised as you peered into the room. What you saw in had you in a fit of laughter.

“Ahahahahaha! Oh my gosh! V!” Your finger leaves the trigger as you bend over with a laugh, , “I have a washer and dryer for a reason!”

V grumbled and flushed lightly as he wrestled his clean, but soaked pants from Griffon and Shadow. “…” The set of pajamas that you’d coaxed V into the previous night were thoroughly soaked through because he’d decided to hand wash and hand dry his only set of clothes.

“Guess we’ve been camping out too much, huh, buddy?” Griffon chirped after letting go of the black pants.

Shadow lets out a growl in warning, also letting go of the pants in favor of approaching you, rubbing its face against your side with a purred greeting. Though you raise a brow in question, you raise a hand to scratch behind the panther’s ears. “I have many questions, I’m not going to beat around the bush.”

V sighs and sets his clothes on the sink counter before walking towards to pull you into a loving embrace, “Let me change into some dry clothes, and we’ll talk over breakfast.”

His wet clothes feel cold against your nightgown, but you don’t mind, humming as you snuggle into V’s embrace.

15th June 06:00am

“Hurry up, Shakespeare! The Lady Sparda and I aren’t gonna wait for your slow ass all the time!” Griffon called back towards V from his perch on your right arm.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Griff. He’s trying his best.” You chide, turning to stare at V just as he closes the remaining few meters to stand at your side. The past month had been an ordeal, but here you were, about to meet up with your son to end this mess. Turning to V, you playfully nudge him, “Let’s go, V.”

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

I will definitely be writing more about Reader’s time with V as chapters of Visions of V release.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

PS.  Hi, yes, Tumblr. Please don’t eat up my chapter again.（╹◡╹）THanks

[adenei]

Finding My Way To You - Ch. 12

A/N: Shoutout to @be11atrixthestrange for being an amazing beta! 

Also, I didn’t even realize that my subconscious implanted the charm bracelet idea from @voldemorts-tap-shoes amazing Romione discord secret santa fic. I must give credit where credit is due!

Warning: This chapter is NSFW. VERY NSFW. Proceed with caution!

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

A Charming Evening

“I’m back,” Hermione said as she walked through the door. 

Ron opened his eyes and sat up from his position on the couch where he'd fallen asleep. “Hey. Did you have a good time?” He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes as she walked over and sat down next to him.

“I did, yes. It was a bit odd at first, almost the same as when I’d come home from Hogwarts at the end of term. We spent most of the day at their cottage, watching movies, playing games. I helped Mum with dinner. It almost felt like normal again,” Hermione said as she described her day.

“Almost?” Ron questioned.

“Well, yes. We’re in Australia and not England,” Hermione explained.

“Right. Do you think they want to return?” he asked casually.

“I- I think so? Every time I worked up the courage to ask, the conversation turned.” Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. “They invited us to spend the day sightseeing tomorrow. There’s more they want to do around the area with us.” 

“That sounds fun,” Ron said with a reassuring smile.

He saw a look of relief flash across her face. “Maybe I can ask tomorrow. At the very least, we need to talk about how much longer we’re staying, and where. I’m sure the Australian Ministry won’t allow us to stay here indefinitely.” Ron let out a nervous laugh that did not go unnoticed by Hermione. “What?”

He gave a brief shake of his head. “ ‘S funny you mention that,” was all he said.

“Why?” Hermione asked. He could hear the slightest hint of impatience in her voice.

“Well, after you left, the fellytone rang later in the morning. Luckily, I’ve had practice answering and talking into one, since you weren’t around to answer it,” he flashed his lopsided grin at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, stop gloating and get on with it,” she said playfully, but there was a tone of nervousness as she was waiting to see who it was.

“Well, Graham Jacobsen was calling to check in on things,” Ron finally explained.

Hermione’s face displayed a look of surprise. “We were supposed to check in with him three days ago! How did we forget?” Hermione shook her head in dismay. “This is so embarrassing! The Australian Ministry has been so kind to give us a place to stay and help us, and here we are completely ignoring them now!”

“Hermione, relax, it’s fine. I explained that we found your parents, and things have been busy since then as you’ve been getting reacquainted. For the record, though, if anyone asks? The information they provided us helped with locating them.”

“Noted,” Hermione said. “So what else did he say?”

“He did ask how long we were planning on staying…” Ron told her.

“And you said?”

“That I needed to talk it over with you and then we would get back to him.”

“And he was okay with that?” Hermione asked before he could finish.

“Yes, Hermione, he said that was fine.”

“Then I really do need to broach the subject with my parents tomorrow,” Hermione concluded.

Ron nodded in relief that Hermione was resolving to bring up the conversation with her parents. He hoped that would make the next part of this conversation go easier. Maybe they’d even avoid a row over it. “There was one more thing Graham mentioned,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh?” Hermione asked.

“A letter came in for me at the Ministry,” he told her.

“A letter? From who? And don’t they use owls here?” Hermione looked confused so explained how Australia handled international post. “Ah, makes sense,” she said nodding her head. “So, I assume you went down to the Ministry to retrieve it?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, nodding to the pile on the table in front of them. She must have been distracted since she hadn’t even noticed it. “You can read them if you want.” 

He knew that even if he did explain it to her, she’d still want to read the letters, so it was probably easier this way. Ron handed her Harry’s letter first. He watched as her eyes raked furiously through Harry’s handwriting. Her face turned slightly pink as she reached the end.

She looked up at him. “Did Kingsley send you a letter, too?” Ron nodded and handed her his letter. 

“Well, Harry sent it with his,” Ron shrugged his shoulders as Hermione took the second parchment from him. 

She seemed to read this one slower, taking care to process Kingsley’s words. He was beginning to wonder if she was going back and reading it several times because she was awfully quiet. The silence was making the anticipation of her reaction much worse. She finally looked up at him, a wide smile plastering her face and her eyes shining with tears. “You’re going to be an Auror!”

“I mean, if I accept, yeah. But I still have to pass the screenings and get through training…”

“Of course you’ll pass! Ron, this is a huge honor! Why aren’t you happier?” Hermione frowned slightly. “Isn’t this what you want?”

“I- yeah, I do. You’re really okay with this?” he admitted cautiously.

Hermione set the parchment down, and much to Ron’s surprise leaned over and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The suddenness of it all knocked him back against the cushions as his own hands instinctively found her side. He pulled away slightly and looked into her eyes. “As much as I like this, you aren’t avoiding an answer, are you?” he asked.

Hermione smiled guiltily. “I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous about you going into a dangerous career, especially after what we’ve been through. But I also know that it’s a career that will challenge and suit you, and if it makes you happy, then of course I’m going to support you.”

Ron searched her eyes, which shone with sincerity. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Just promise me one thing..” she said as she bit her bottom lip. 

Ron tried to ignore the arousal he felt from it. “Anything,” he choked out, attempting to focus on the conversation.

“Promise you’ll stay safe, and you’ll- you’ll always come home to me,” she whispered.

Despite all of the progress they’d made with their relationship over the last few days, and even the fact that they’d admitted they loved each other, nothing could surpass this moment. If he had any doubts of Hermione’s seriousness about their relationship, they’d all but vanished now. It was clear that she was just as afraid of losing him as he was of losing her, and that told him everything he needed to know. 

“I will. I promise, I will,” he was barely able to say it before his lips found hers again. 

There was a new desperation in this kiss, completely unlike their first in the Room of Requirement, or even their second where they finally understood their feelings were mutual. His desire and need to show her just how much she meant to him was prevalent in his mind as he deepened their kiss.

Hermione was straddling his lap as he felt her fingers in his hair. He couldn’t hide his growing erection from her in their current position. As her tongue invaded his mouth, he sucked hard on it, which caused a faint moan to escape her throat. Ron lost all his logical senses and knew he needed to get them to the bedroom where they’d both be more comfortable.

He shifted his arms to hold her as he lifted both of them up and he got to his feet. She wrapped her legs around him in much the same fashion of the previous day as he managed to transport them into the bedroom. Hermione tugged at his shirt as she kicked off her shoes, and Ron helped her by sliding it over his head. He almost didn’t notice her beginning to unbutton her own blouse as his shirt was tossed to the floor. 

His lips found hers as his hands replaced the job hers had started. He fumbled a bit with the bottom buttons as he kissed her, but once the last one was free, his hands gingerly slid the fabric off her shoulders. Ron pulled away to look at her. Sure, it was similar to yesterday, but there was something different between Hermione wearing a bikini and seeing her in her undergarments. It was the same amount of skin she was revealing, yet this felt so much more sensual.

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated her soft skin as he tossed her blouse aside, revealing a light pink, lacy bra that pushed up her breasts in just the right way to make them more pronounced. “Fuck, Hermione,” he said breathily. 

“Is it too much?” she asked nervously.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect,” he said before his lips met her skin. 

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then trailed kisses down to her neck. She gasped as he felt her head tilt back. Her hands reached for the button of his trousers, as she worked to pull them down. He aided her efforts by kicking them off when they got low enough, leaving him in just his pants, which were much more plain than her fancy set.

Ron let his hands wander up to her breasts, where he felt her warm skin over the fabric. He only stopped to help her as she undid her own jeans and was trying to pull them down. He saw that her knickers matched her bra, immediately realizing she’d done this on purpose. How had he not noticed what she’d grabbed that morning? Oh, right, she was distracting me in just a towel. Merlin, she was going to be the death of him.

And now, here they were again. Except this time, there was a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. Of all the times he’d studied her face, he could confidently describe every little nuance, but this...this was different somehow. Ron didn’t realize he was staring at her until he felt Hermione’s hand gently push his head back down to her neck, where he eagerly picked up where he left off.

His hands reached down to cup her bum before planting them on either side of her to hold up his weight. He warily moved down further to the curves of her breasts, relishing in how they felt against his lips and face for the first time. She began to squirm underneath him, and Ron stopped briefly to make sure it was okay. 

“You can take this off if you want,” she said, motioning to her bra. 

“Are- are you sure?” he asked. 

Hermione nodded as she raised her hips into a bridge position to give him access to the clasp. Ron snaked his arm around her and fumbled with it. She adjusted, sitting up slightly to give him a better angle. He gave in and involved both his hands. It wasn’t like he was seasoned with unclasping bras, but he made a mental note to level up to one hand eventually.

He felt the clasp break free and his hands traveled up her back and then down her shoulders, pushing the straps as he went. Ron thought he was prepared for the fabric to fall away, but when it did, he felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was speechless at the sight of her. 

She blushed as she lay there, still propped up on her elbows, baring herself for him to see for the first time. “I- I’m sorry their rather small and not much to-”

“They're perfect.” Ron found his voice. “You’re perfect.” 

He leaned in and kissed her, feeling her bare chest against his for the first time. He pressed his arousal against her inner thigh, allowing her to feel how much he wanted her.

“R-Ron,” she heard him say against his lips. “I- I want to-” 

He looked at her seriously. Bloody hell, did she want to- “You want to what, Hermione?”

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she said.

“You want to…” Ron wanted to say it, yet couldn’t bring himself to, just in case they weren’t thinking the same thing.

“..Go all the way, have sex, make love, whatever you want to call it.”

“Hermione,” Ron started to say. He needed to be sure.

“I’m serious, Ron. Haven’t we waited long enough?” Ron simply stared at her. Just last night he told himself he’d be willing to wait as long as she wanted, and a day later, she was expressing she was ready. “Unless you don’t want to..”

Her last words brought him back to her. “No! I do, Hermione. Bloody hell, of course I do! I- Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she whispered, tears were threatening in her eyes from the emotion of it all. “I’ve never been more sure.”

“Right, Okay, then.” 

He leaned down to kiss her tenderly. Ron was determined to make this special for her. For both of them. He didn’t want it to feel abrupt, so he worked their way back into it, relishing in the feel of her against him. Eventually his fingers hooked around her knickers, and he felt her nod against his mouth as he pulled them down to her ankles. His hands trailed back up her thighs as he hesitantly felt the warmth of her center. She was hot and wet and clearly ready for him. It was still hard to believe he made her feel that way.

She moaned at his touch as he felt her hands move to do the same with his pants, freeing his length, and revealing himself fully to her.

“C-can I?” She asked as she hesitantly reached down to grip him for the first time. 

“Yeah,” he said against the crook of her neck. When her hand wrapped around him, he couldn’t control the string of expletives that escaped his mouth. “...Fuck, bloody hell, Hermione,” he moaned into her ear. “If you keep doing that I’m gonna-”

She let go. “Ch-Charms,” she said as Ron swore again. 

He reluctantly lifted himself off of her to dig around in his trousers for his wand. After pointing the wand toward himself and then at her, he looked at her again. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Ron. Please,” she said.

He set his wand down and returned to hover over her. “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

She nodded as Ron used his hand to gently guide him inside her. Her eyes were closed as he entered, and she drew a sharp breath in as he filled her. She was so tight. “All right?” he asked, as she nodded again. 

Slowly, he began to move in and out, gradually finding a rhythm. He felt her hips press into his as things started to become more comfortable for her. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, pouring all of the emotion he was feeling into that one kiss.

“I love you, Hermione,” he said as his eyes met hers.

“I love you, too, Ron,” she responded as her hands found the hair at the nape of his neck.

Ron felt himself begin to thrust faster and knew it wouldn’t take long. He felt her encourage him as her lips found his neck and her hands trailed across his body. “F-fuck, Hermione, I’m gonna,” he said as he spilled himself inside her seconds later. Hermione captured his lips with hers as he rode out his orgasm. 

He allowed himself to relax on top of her as he recovered before slowly slipping out and reaching for his wand to clean things up.

“You’re bloody amazing, you know that?” he asked her as she lay there watching him.

“So are you,” she said through a smile.

“I’m sorry that probably wasn’t brilliant…” he apologized.

“It was fine, Ron,” Hermione told him.

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what every bloke wants to hear their first time.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! Aren’t first times supposed to be awkward, and, well, not entirely satisfying?” she defended quickly.

“I guess that’s true,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you, er, want to put clothes back on?” he asked hesitantly. He was hoping they could maybe explore each other more, without clothes.

“Well, I am a bit cold,” she admitted. “But, I don’t think I’d need them if we get under the covers…” she added. 

He watched as she got up and slid the covers back to climb into bed. Ron quickly joined her after placing his wand on the adjoining table. She snuggled into his arms, stealing the warmth he was happy to share.

“I promise I’ll make it more enjoyable for you, too,” Ron said as he kissed the top of her head.

“It’s fine, Ron, really. We’ve got all the time in the world to learn what we like,” 

Hermione said as her hand rested on his bare chest. He felt her chuckle against him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about Harry’s letter. Think I should write a response to Ginny on our ‘getting sorted?’”

Ron shook his head. “Make her wait it out.”

She laughed harder at his response. “That’s true, we’ll be home soon enough anyways. That way, I’ll be able to see the look on her face.” Ron looked down at her and Hermione noticed. “What?”

“You said - nevermind,” he said.

“You need to be home at the latest by the end of next week, but we should probably plan for a few days earlier than that. You’re not missing the appointment that they set you,” Hermione said matter of factly.

“Well, yeah, but does that mean that you’re coming with me?” Ron asked.

“Yes, of course, I am! Things will become clearer once I talk to my parents tomorrow, but there’s no way I’d miss helping you prepare for this,” she said propping herself up on her elbow to kiss him on the cheek.

Ron let out a deep exhale.  “As long as you’re sure it’s not going to rush your time with them.”

“No, I don’t think so. Besides, I- I want to make use of the time we’ve got before you start training...and before I go back to Hogwarts.” She averted his gaze at that last statement.

Ron squeezed her tighter. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“You did?”

“Well, yeah, it must have torn you apart to not go back last year,” he grinned.

“Finishing my education is important to me,” she defended.

“I know, I know,” he said. 

“We’ll be okay, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve just- never been apart for that long before…”

“We’ll make it work. I’ll visit you on Hogsmeade weekends and Ginny will have quidditch matches I can attend. We’ll figure it out,” he said, trying to reassure her. In truth, he was feeling a little apprehensive, too. 

Hermione sat up fully. She turned to lean in and kiss him, but something caught her eye. “Ron, what’s that?” She pointed to a small gift bag on his bedside table.

“Oh! I forgot! This is for you.” He reached over and picked up the bag to hand it to her.

“What’s this for? You’re making me feel like a bad girlfriend. I haven’t gotten you anything..”

“Think of it as a belated birthday and Christmas gift from last year,” he said as he shrugged.

“Well, now that just makes me feel worse!” she complained.

“Oi, just open it will you?” 

She huffed and carefully picked out the tissue paper. He watched as she reached in and pulled out the small box before looking up at him. He gave her a look to keep going. She carefully slid the top off, revealing the silver bracelet.

“Ron, it’s beautiful!” she said as she gently lifted it up to examine the charms more closely. “I love it,” she told him sincerely.

“Really?”

“Yes. How’d you find it?”

“Was just walking around and found this shop that drew me in. They have tons of charms, so if you like it I can get you more-” Hermione leaned in and kissed him. When they broke apart, she said, “I’d love to hear why you picked these. I think I can guess at three of them, but the charms of our patronuses have got me stumped.”

Ron chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t know,” he grinned, earning him a playful smack on his arm. “Well, the book is fairly obvious, I’d say, considering we met at school, and for some barmy reason, you love reading.” He caught her eye roll before he continued.

“But about the patronuses...apparently Jack Russell Terriers were known to chase otters. They’re both quite playful, too, I guess. I don’t know, ever since Fleur told me back when, well...you know, it’s kind of stuck with me.”

“I never knew that,” Hermione said as Ron lost his bravado. “Actually, now that I think about it..”

“What?” Ron asked.

“Otters are in the same family as the weasel,” she said slowly as she looked up at him. 

“It’s probably just a coincidence..” Ron reasoned.

“Maybe…” Hermione said, playing with the charms. “I love the heart with the rose engravings on it, but why the seashell?”

“Reminded me of Shell Cottage. I realized quite a bit when I stayed there the first time, and I feel like things started to change between us after Malfoy Manor.”

Hermione nodded slowly at his words. “These are all very clever, Ron. I love that it tells different parts of our story.”

“Me too.” Ron reached up to help Hermione clasp it around her non-dominant wrist.

He watched as Hermione put the discarded contents back in the bag and placed them on her bedside table. “I hope you know when you least expect it, I’ll return the favor, once I figure out the perfect gift for you.” She settled back into his side.

“This is enough for me,” he told her. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something extra, too, though,” Hermione chided. He chuckled at her words before they lay there in comfortable silence. “I missed you, today.”

“It was less than twelve hours,” he said, not sure why he was instigating the banter.

“So you didn’t miss me at all?” she asked, pouting her lip in mock sadness.

He wanted to laugh at the sight, but he found his body leaning into hers. With her lip puffed out like that, Ron felt the sudden urge give it a playful bite as he snogged her. “Of course I missed you,” he murmured against her lips. 

Hermione adjusted herself so that she was on top of him now as she tilted her head and whispered in his ear, “I wouldn’t be opposed to you showing me how much you missed me...if that’s what you wanted.”

Ron didn’t wait a second longer to adhere to her request. Now that he knew their time alone in Australia had an end in sight, he was eager to make the most of this time with her. Merlin knew that once they returned to the Burrow, privacy would become a hot commodity again.

[seijorhi]

asks :)

my inbox has once piled up, so to avoid spamming y’all there’s some asks below the cut 💕 - general & fic questions (but no drabbles)

Me re-reading the atsumu bit over and over again getting suspicious of the way he's acting : 👁️👄👁️

Y’all: can Rhi write Atsumu without making him obsessed with the reader?

Magic 8 ball: answer uncertain, try again later 👀

I re-read the new piece and I know it was not your intention, but Bokuto, Hinata and Sakusa's behaviour also strikes me as suspicious 👀(if you know what I mean) just lighter👀 just wanted to let you know 😅

This made me laugh. Look, I say with all of my fics - a lot of it is up for interpretation, read into stuff how you want to, but it wasn’t intentional haha

Bro your like my favourite yandere writer ever, so please don't feel pressured to fulfill requests if you wanna do your own writing then please do anything you write is literally gold and I'll always read your stuff (even if it's for a fandom I'm not even in your that good) 💖

I cannot tell you how many fandoms I got into because I started reading fics from amazing writers without having watched the source material, so this is super sweet! Thank you, bby!!

i just read your fic "like nobody else" and the related drabbles (the post supply closet scene and the noya/tanaka version) and i must say you are an amazing writer! the word "lovely" came to mind to describe your work but it somehow feels wrong considering the nature of the content. even so, i really liked how you made it feel like the reader may have had a chance to escape, yet it was all futile in the end. definitely going to read your entire masterlist and patiently wait for your new works. - @glaringlights

Ahh thank you so much!!! I’m a bit of a sucker for yandere team ups and soulmate au’s so it’s always gonna be something I’m happy to write for!  

Hey bby! 🥺 Sorry for bothering u, but i was wondering what happens after "Honey, make this easy"? Do you think Kageyama finds out that it's Suga that took away his s/o?

Oh Kageyama will definitely figure it out real quick. He realises that she’s gone probably only a few minutes after Suga takes her - of course he can’t go into a full freak out, especially around the others, but he knows she just wouldn’t leave. Don’t forget that despite the yandere tendencies and the abuse - their relationship is still ‘normal’ on the surface - she’s not locked away, he’s not forcing her to be with him (well, he is, but not in the traditional sense). He knows she’s not actively looking for an escape, so someone has to have taken her. And what do you know, there’s only one other person who’s missing from the reunion - strange that Suga left without saying goodbye.

pls stop being a good writer I can't take it 😔👊

Next fic, I promise bby 😌

Hello! I just finished reading all of your stories on Ao3 and i claim i have officially become a hoe for your manager au fic.I love so much team dynamic!!I hope you will write more:).

Team manager fics were not something I really intended on doing as much on, but it’s strangely addictive, and so fun to play with all the dynamics within a team. And yeah, Inarizaki manager au will be out in the next few days, and I’m debating about doing either a Nekoma, MSBY or Karasuno one as well... Maybe.Thank you!!

🅱️lease tell us what atsumu said in reply to reader at the end that ticked kuroo off so much (honestly i know it was prob mostly innocuous but pLeAsE)

also, that ᵗᶦⁿʸ bit of softness from sakusa toward reader? I MELTED 😭😭

I’m assuming these were both sent by the same anon? 

It’s not so much what he says, at least not his immediate reply, but scrolling back through the text conversation reveals a number of messages that piss him off (and the fact you’re messaging him at all tbh)

But for the record - Have I ever let ya down?

Also, Sakusa is one of those characters I was kinda ehh about initially. Like he’s pretty but didn’t really do much for me. Now however, I am a certified Sakusa Simp™ and I could not resist dropping a slightly soft Kiyoomi 😌

And then there were two was so good it cleared my headache with one read 💖💖

THANK YOU!! Also I hope you’re feeling better, anon!

Yan! Terushima has been living in my head rent free since you released your Run, Rabbit. How would he proceed after they get home? Would he force her to be his girlfriend?

Oh yeah. You’re such a meek, shy little thing, so easy to manipulate. You twwo had had sex, you didn’t say no, he made you cum (so many times) - of course you’re together. After all, you wouldn’t sleep with somebody you weren’t in a relationship with, right? Only desperate whores do that. Besides, it not like he gives you a chance to deny it - not when Bobata and your friend return to find the two of you naked and in bed together 👀

IT WAS SO GOOD. THE KUROO X MANAGER UGHH. Like I can imagine after Kuroo kissed the s/o and get into 18+ acts. He would call Atsumu to let him know that he did the deed. I'm sorry, it's just really good. You're one good author.

Ahh thank you so much, bby! I don’t necessarily think he’d call Atsumu, because to him Atsumu’s a cocky piece of shit not worth bothering about, but he’d definitely take a whole lotta joy out of dropping you off at training the next morning, covered in love bites and hickeys, legs still a little shaky with that beautiful glazed over look in your eyes, and watching his reaction.

[fallenfurther]

Priority

A continuation of my FabFiveFeb - Virgil (a.k.a A Rescuer’s Sacrifice). Part 1 , 2 , 3 and 4 (In chronological order not posting order). Sorry it’s taken so long to get the next part out. I’ve been tapping this out on my lunch breaks when I’m not reading fic, but it’s been slow going. Finally getting closer to rescuing Virgil! Enjoy!

*******

Scott slung the medical kit he'd just retrieved over his shoulder and started jogging towards his brother's Thunderbird. His uniform was covered in dust and his body was complaining from the various uncomfortable angles it had been put into. He looked up at the green craft before him and steeled himself. He was going to have to be strong for this. John had confirmed Virgil was still stable, but the missing sensor readings were still hovering in the back of his mind. Scott threw the kit on the floor and retrieved another. Another spinal board was placed beside it and Scott grabbed more support struts. They had been useful last time and Scott wanted this done as quickly and efficiently as possible. He was sure Gordon would agree; he wanted away from this industrial site.

Gordon arrived back. Scott noted the lack of hover-stretcher. As before, it was often easier to retrieve the International Rescue branded stretchers later, especially in regions where the ones provided were not up to scratch. Thunderbird Two was well stocked with them and his brother quickly grabbed one. Scott helped to load it up with kit as Gordon darted between various compartments grabbing other things. Gordon always surprised Scott, his easy manner hiding the expert beneath. The ease Gordon had on Two, despite it not being his own, was a marvel. Sure, Scott knew Two as any pilot knows a shared plane, but Gordon knew the pod like Scott knew Thunderbird One. Virgil would be proud of Gordon.

Scott's heart dropped at the thought, his eyes falling on his hands. They shouldn't be in this situation, but Scott was aware of the risks. He tried to shoulder them himself, so many times, to spare his brothers. Taking a deep breath, he raised the stretcher as Gordon stood at its head.

"Let's go get Virgil."

Gordon nodded and led them away from the Thunderbird, following the map John had supplied and was now floating above his wrist. Scott's feet hit the ground in a familiar rhythm that helped to centre his mind, keeping from the thoughts he didn't want to acknowledge. His steps helped him straighten his back. They allowed him to slip back into his Air Force days, where they marched in sync like a well-oiled machine. The Force had changed Scott for the better, its influences he could see in his life in small ways, and in ways he probably couldn't see. Scott was thankful for the training on days like these. Falling back on it, knowing it was ingrained. It had helped him save his colleagues when they were shot down and dying. Now, it was going to help him keep his head as he rescued yet another brother. Scott's gaze landed on the building that held Virgil, its four outer walls still standing. Scott was ready.

"John, what's the structural integrity of the building like?"

John appeared above his wrist, the slightly knitted eyebrows setting off warning alarms in Scott's head.

"It should be stable, though I would have said that before it collapsed on Virgil."

"Great." Scott sighed, just what they needed. "We'll proceed with caution. Any update about Virgil's condition?"

"He's awake and conscious. He is being pinned by metal beams; one having damaged the exosuit in the collapse. Treat him as if he's got a spinal injury."

"FAB."

They pushed the supplies to the entrance where they left them, heading in to scout the area and locate Virgil. A quick hop over the security gates and Scott led them past the elevators towards the middle of the building. He turned a corner, moving in the direction of the small marker on his map. Scott took the next left only to grind to a holt. Gordon slammed into the back of him.

"Hey!"

Scott gazed at the pile of floor and metal beams. Virgil was beneath the unsteady mountain and the idea pained Scott. They had to rescue him. They moved closer, each carefully placing their feet so not to put pressure on anything unstable.

"So, how are we going to move this without hurting Virgil?" Gordon queried, feeling the need to free his big brother, but aware they couldn't rush it.

"Carefully." Scott crouched down and peered under the flooring. Flashing his light around revealed a metal beam. The crash of falling rubble made him jump to attention. His eyes turned to the ceiling, which was a large hole that transcended multiple floors. Movement on one of the floors caught his eye. The movement became a face.

"Hey! Hey, International Rescue?! Help us! We're trapped."

Scott's heart dropped. Those were the people Virgil had gone to rescue, still stuck on the fourth floor. A decision had to be made. Gordon was looking at him expectantly. Their brother or those people. Scott surveyed the fourth floor again. There was no easy access to the floor. Scott sighed and tapped his comm.

"John, the people Virgil was trying to rescue are still trapped on the fourth floor. I'm going to head back to Thunderbird One to get my jetpack. That should be the safest way to get them down. Gordon can start clearing the rubble that's covering Virgil."

"FAB. I’ll relay it to Virgil."

John disappeared. He looked to Gordon who was carefully inspecting the pile. They had no idea where in the mess Virgil was. Scott turned back towards the face that was still peering down.

"I'm going to fetch some equipment." Scott yelled up, "Hold tight. We'll have you down in no time."

Scott turned and jogged from the scene, a small well of guilt in his stomach. Prioritising was always tough, but those people had been waiting long enough for rescue. John had spoken with Virgil, so he must be in a reasonable state. Scott tried to focus on that fact as Thunderbird One came into view. Stepping into his craft, Scott took a deep breath, drawing in comfort from the machine’s familiarity. Thunderbird One was an extension of him and being in her brought some temporary relief. Scott grabbed his jetpack, checked the fuel levels, grabbing an extra canister just in case, before slinging it over his shoulder. It should be able to do what was required easily, but the risks were high. He wasn't going to push their luck any more than necessary. Two brothers were already seriously injured. Leaving Thunderbird One, Scott headed back to the building, a mission to complete.

Gordon had carefully cut a piece of flooring and was starting to shift it when Scott arrived back. Scott hastened over and gave his brother a hand, before flipping out the jetpack controls. Moments later he was hovering level with the fourth floor. Scott cast his eyes over the six people who were huddled in the office. All but one was standing near the back wall where the floor would be strongest. At least they had sense.

"Thank goodness you're here! The other guy disappeared when the floor collapsed."

The man who had been peering down at them was the one who spoke. He seemed the most confident of them, the others all still fearful despite the relief that had crossed their faces when he arrived. Scott slowly hovered over to the wall, carefully setting his feet down on what looked to be sturdy floor.

"I'm going to have to fly you down one by one. Once you are all down, I'll point you in the right direction of the evacuation point."

Scott walked over to a shaking woman and offered her his hand. She gazed into his eyes before placing her hand in his.

"Let's get you out of here."

Scott gave her a smile, before pulling her to her feet. He slipped his hand behind her back, pulling her close. He would have to fly with one controller, but he could do that in his sleep.

"Hold on tight to me. I won't drop you."

The woman wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped up. His arm pulled her closer as her legs wrapped around his waist. Her head rested against his neck.

"Ready?"

He felt the small nod of her head. With a flick of his thumb his feet left the floor and he flew the woman down to ground level. He walked her from the building and stood her next to the hover-stretcher.

"Stay here while I go get the others."

The next four flights went smoothly, the group looking more relaxed with each member joining them on the ground. There were a few hugs when reunited, the stress of the situation forming bonds between them like no corporate training exercise could. The last person to be rescued was the brave man who had peered over the edge. Unlike the others, he walked towards Scott as he came back into sight. Adrenaline started pumping as he saw it happen next in slow motion. The man's foot fell through the weakened floor, which broke away with the force of his falling body. There was always one brave idiot. Scott reacted fast. He dropped with the man, grabbing the belt around his waist before he'd passed the third floor. Pulling up, Scott knew the man would be in pain and discomfort. The floor fell on the pile with a crash. Scott's heart jarred at the thought of Virgil still being below. His grip on the leather tightened at the thought of his brother getting more injuries. A flick of the controls and Scott lowered them to a safe spot on the ground.

"Th-th-thanks." The man stuttered.

"It all part of the job." Scott helped the man up on autopilot, his mind on Virgil.

Scott led the man to the group, glad that all six were now safe. He knew it would make Virgil happy too, to know that they were okay.

"The evacuation point is near the east side car park. Straight that way for three blocks. Take a left. Keep going down that road. It should take you to the evacuation team."

"I know where you mean." One of the women piped up, smiling at him. "Thank you."

They all started to follow the woman apart from the lady who he had rescued first. She was nervously glancing at him and he stayed waiting for her to pluck up the courage to speak.

"The...the other rescuer. Is he okay?"

Scott's heart skipped a beat. The others had forgotten but she had remembered Virgil. He swallowed.

"We are in radio contact with him."

"But is he okay?"

Her face was full of worry. The rest of the group had stopped and were waiting for her.

"He's hurt. We don't know how bad yet."

She read between the lines and nodded. She knew they had come for Virgil only to rescue them first. She knew the sacrifice they had made.

"I wish the best for you and the others. I hope he gets well soon."

"Thank you."

Scott watched as she turned away and joined the group. She turned and waved goodbye. Scott waved back before turning his back in them. He quickly grabbed the hover-stretcher and activated it, pulling it into the building. It was time to save Virgil.

[hollyhomburg]

Call Me Yours Pt.3

(Ot7 x Reader) (Hybrid Au!) (Blind! Reader)

Summary: You never would have imagined that more love was hidden right next door, just over your garden fence.

Pairings: (Human! Hoseok) x (Human! Reader) x (Wolf hybrid! Namjoon) x (Dog hybrid! Seokjin) x (Cat hybrid! Yoongi) x (Tiger hybrid! Taehyung) x (Bunny hybrid! Jungkook) x (Cat hybrid! Jimin)

Tags: Established relationship, Mentions of Hospitals, Indications of hybrid Mistreatment, Panic Attacks, hurt/comfort 

W/c: 4.5K

A/n: I Had to split this chapter because it started to get way too long! a few reminders- This is a Sequel! All Parts are under my master list as Part of the “Dance To This” universe. ALSO- I do not separate my tag list from fic to fic. there is only one tag list, so if you want to be tagged- go to the link in my bio and like that post. 

- In the next few days after the first impromptu afternoon meeting and the following weeks, the 4 of you become extremely accustomed to the company of Hoseok and his hybrids. 

- Not that you have much of a choice when Hoseok’s three hybrids eventually get bored after they wake up with Hoseok, kiss him goodbye before he goes to work, eat breakfast, play video games, and come over to your house to bother Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. 

- Luckily this is usually some time after you sequester yourself on the second floor. Usually, you’re Determined to get some work done even if the promise of cuddles and seeing the 6 of them interact is more than a small distraction. The few times you don’t manage to make it up before 11 you end up with a lap full of a very cuddly Taehyung or Jimin for half the day. 

- But, you and Hoseok do need to work, regardless of what you often find each other texting in the morning- though you’re fonder of voice messages. 

- It’s usually a welcomed mid-morning reprieve after the giddiness of 2 cups of coffee has worn off. Which feels ridiculous, because you’d only just seen him last night- it wasn’t like you’d spend any time apart and yet, and yet you’re stopping everything to pick up your phone when it dings. The drone of his office the clicking of pens and shuffling of papers behind him as he breathes into the mic, his voice low enough and quiet enough that it’s husky “I should warn you,”

- “I think Jungkook is going to surprise Yoongi with a water gun today- he shot Jimin with it yesterday and he jumped like 5 feet in the air- and Taehyung and Jungkook spent like 40 minutes laughing at him. Just a polite heads up that Yoongi might be traumatized.” 

- You replay the message at least a half a dozen times before you respond. Happy to hear his voice in your office and imagine for a second, that you worked in the same place. As foolish as it seems. Seokjin tells you that you’ve been watching too many office themed dramas. 

- You giggle at Hoseok’s message- taking a short break to send him a voice note back. “I will do no such thing, but I will have Seokjin video record it for you, and start planning Jungkook’s funeral, did you want lilies or roses?” you text Seokjin. 

- Sure enough, A few hours later. You hear a shriek of Yoongi and a shrill yowls of “you brats!” through your open window as the three younger hybrids (Jimin included because there was no way he wasn’t going to take the opportunity to tease the elder cat hybrid) dash to find a hiding place with Yoongi on the hunt. Taehyung hiding behind Namjoon and Jungkook unceremoniously jumping the fence. 

- Seokjin sends the video to you, and you send it to Hoseok, and he sends you back another message, just him laughing before he rapidly sends another “fuck- I’m so glad that I went to the bathroom before opening it- Jesus Christ my stomach hurts, Yoongi looked about ready to- fuck” he wheezes. And you send back a stream giggles. And Hoseok definitely doesn’t replay the message half a dozen times and wish he could take off early from work just to hear it in person.

- Definitely doesn’t think of doing that- because like, that would be something someone who like- had a crush would do- and Hoseok definitely can’t have a crush on his cute neighbor. Who also may or may not have hybrids that may or may not also have crushes on Hoseok’s hybrids, because that would be ridiculously complicated for a bunch of 20 somethings to handle. 

- Hoseok was just beginning to get the hang of loving 3 people instead of just Jungkook. And loving 4 others would be dizzying, and why the fuck is he thinking about love when it’s obviously just a crush. 

- Especially When Hoseok can definitely definitely not have a crush on his incredibly cute neighbor. So he goes back to work, and concentrate on the stocks and bonds and projected growth estimations over the next quarter. And absolutely does not have the growing pink heart emoji next to his neighbor’s name in his phone (you know- this one 💗 because it’s Hoseok’s favorite emoji, and is also- kind of apt for the situation) 

- Back in Namjoons garden, exactly 43 minutes away from Hoseok’s office if you speed on the highway, The three of them end up in a pile on the grass by the end of the day, all vendettas involving water guns forgotten. 

- Taehyung licking against Yoongi’s hair and grooming him. Jungkook cuddled up with Jimin half in his lap and half in Yoongi’s. They quickly pull Namjoon and Seokjin into the pile, exchanging purr (and chirping crunches in Jungkook’s case) in exchange for a plate of healthy snacks from Seokjin. (Those boys eat way too many bags of chips and chocolate in his opinion). Seokjin falls asleep to the gentle hum of conversation- somehow sleepy despite the fact that it’s barely the afternoon. 

- Seokjin wakes up with his back against that grass, his head moved onto a more bony thigh than Taehyung. A small hand carding through his hair, fingers tracing feather light across his lips, his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrow. And the sound of muted conversation notable absent. Seokjin cracks his eyes and looks up at Jimin.  From this angle, he looks pouty and soft with his tangled hair, and the light hanging all hazy through the trellises, the white shirt he’s wearing so baggy the sleeves almost go to his elbows. 

- Jimin catches Seokjin’s sleepy staring, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. “How are you so pretty Jin hyung?” Jimin murmurs, something heavy and almost half sad in his when he looked down at Seokjin. Jin smiles, and teases, “a little jealous Jiminie?” Seokjin lets the promise of a question hang in the air- what’s wrong, open up to me, tell me why you look so sad. 

- Seokjin has never ever seen Jimin like this- or ever seen him be anything other than sultry confident, or bratty happy. Jimin sucks in his lower lip. Letting his hands do most of the talking against Seokjin’s scalp, his beautifully pointed years, the perfect silky hair. “No, I’m not it’s just-“ 

- “Jimin I was just teasing.” Seokjin says, nudging his head into Jimin’s hands. the request just as much about comforting Jimin as it is for Seokjin. letting others care for him has always been that way, and screw it, Seokjin loves head rubs. “I know.” Jimin seems like he wants to ask something, looking away from Seokjin “Would you mind if sometimes I-“ 

- Jungkook and Taehyung choose that moment to pounce jumping and picking them up (how the fuck that bunny was strong enough to lift Seokjin- he’d never know) and move them into a sunny spot as Yoongi fluffs out a heavy knit blanket and Namjoon comes out with a box of ice pops. 

- Jimin’s words die alongside Seokjin’s screeching protests at being picked up. To which Jungkook only grins at and proceeds to hold Seokjin more firmly. Leaving the elder to wonder exactly what Jimin had wanted to ask about. 

- In the past few weeks, there is no one that has been a more constant in your house than Jungkook, who will come over to help Namjoon with the garden nearly every day, and will text Namjoon things like Sorry hyung, say hi to the carrots for me, Hobi-Hyung took us all for hair cuts today T_T, but I’m thinking about keeping it long what do you think? if he doesn’t come over before 12.

-  In the mornings Jungkook waits until he hears the slide of your porch door (Nothing could get past those large brown ears) before he bounds over to the fence in excitement, literally hopping and lifting his body over the side instead of going around the corner. 

- “Yah Jungkook you’re going to land on one of the beds!” Namjoon will chide, hair still ruffly from sleep, and Jungkook will happily beam, “I’m a good jumper hyung! I won’t hurt the squash!”

- In the coming months- Namjoon will also go over to Hoseok’s side of the fence and - only with Hoseok’s explicit permission, because Namjoon is nothing if not respectful of the yard that is not his own- erect 4 raised garden beds with the help of Jungkook and Yoongi- who has a new found talent for making things.

- Jungkook loves gardening so much, and spending time with Namjoon just as much, he bugs Hoseok for gardening gear and it’s almost a shock when he comes over one day, with matching green gardening gloves, a canvas apron, and a matching set of green trowels and a straw hat with two holes pierced in the top for his ears (which Hoseok had cut very very carefully). 

- Namjoon can barely look at the bunny; he’s blushing too hard. Last week Seokjin found Namjoon scenting the younger, His lap full of a very happy bunny munching on some of the fresh radishes that Namjoon harvested that morning. 

- Which makes Seokjin coo and squish the Youngers cheeks with how cute he looks. And take about half a dozen pictures of him and Namjoon working in the garden because – wow, just wow, how is Jeon Jungkook so cute with his curly brown hair hanging in his eyes as he diligently weeds the window boxes. 

- Seokjin comes up to your office to tell you such, rolling around a little bit where you’re stretched out on the floor with your computer in front of you (a change of pace to keep you on task) groaning, “ughh he’s just so cute? How do you handle having a crush when you can’t do something about it? Jesus, I thought I was done with this with Yoongi.” (said hybrid has currently disappeared with Jimin and Taehyung somewhere on Hoseok’s side of the fence and it’s a guess as to what they’re doing or where they are)  

- You snort, Seokjin’s thigh pins into some of your papers as he rolls from his back onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “That’s easy you just do something about it instead of coming to your girlfriend and gushing about the cute bunny next door.” 

- Your phone dings next to you, another voice message from Hoseok. Seokjin clicks it open and listens to it.

- “Yah you need to stop feeding them so much! I swear they can just get food from my house! They’re gonna eat you out of house and home! I promise the next chance I get I’m going to go to the store and replace all of the food they’ve probably eaten.”

- A laugh ends the message, and before you can stop yourself you’re smiling way too hard. You can tell Seokjin’s smirking before you say it. “Ugh- his laugh is so cute!” Seokjin replays it so you can listen to it again.

- “So gushing about the bunny is apparently less bad than gushing about the cute boy next door?” he teases, you shove his thigh away playfully in reply before he pulls you down, on top of the papers and all. 

- Let’s just say work ends a very different way then you intended. With a shower in the upstairs bathroom after Seokjin explains that they’ll definitely be able to smell him on you if you go downstairs like that. Clothes all skewed and hair all ruffled, a small amount of rug burn in some unfortunate places that Yoongi 100% teases you both about later. Office sex has its downsides. 

- You few stolen moments in the middle of the day, rubbing conditioner out of his hair as he tells you about Jimin and the curious question he’d never finished the day before. “I think Hobi mentioned something about Jimin drawing a lot the other day, that could be it?” 

- Seokjin returns the favor of the conditioner, sliding your hair through his fingers appreciating how long it’s grown. Something primal in him both loving taking care of you, providing like this, and also hating that he has to wash his sent off of you. But it’s not polite to smell like sex around hybrids that aren’t your own. 

- Taehyung will come over to help Namjoon in the garden too- sometimes; Namjoon can sense him watching through the crack in the fence, if he’s feeling bold he’ll peer around the gate by the side. Jungkook does a good job of dragging him over to your side and not leaving him alone. It’s a bit funny to see the massive bunny wrangle the whining tiger. The hybrid is still noticeably shy and quiet to an extreme around them.  

- Especially the first time he tries to go beg pets from you during a workday, with you on an important call upstairs only to be stopped by Seokjin in the kitchen. “You can’t bother her when she’s working Taehyung” he chastises, the tiger’s shoulders dropping terribly low as he makes to leave, assuming that no one wants him here. Really he should just go back home and not be in the way- even if he like- really really wants pets right now, the touch starved ness reaching a fevers pitch inside of him. 

- Seokjin is quick to stop him, hand sliding down to the nape of his neck and making Taehyung shiver. “but I am baking some pies today if you want to help.” The tiger’s ears perk up almost instantly. And though Taehyung might be the messiest cook that Seokjin has ever seen, spilling flower on the floor and getting preserve on his cheeks, it is really nice to have someone to nudge shoulders within the kitchen and show how to knead dough out to the right thickness. Even if Tae barely speaks except to ask careful questions. 

- Hoseok and you have been dancing around each other over the last two months. Seokjin invites him and the hybrid trio over for dinner often enough to try and foster the affection that he can see in both of you. If Hoseok didn’t like you Seokjin would be incredibly surprised. 

- Why else would Hoseok bring you sweet-smelling flowers and little things, stopping by after work with the pastries that Seokjin just happened to mention where your favorite the last time he was over. 

- Why else would he lean in close and blush when you hang out on the back porch, greeting you with a hug instead of a hello. Not that you mind at all- Hoseok had practically grown up with Jungkook, so affection is more usual to him than the absence of it. 

- The first time he hugs you is just after Jimin and Taehyung’s monthly check-up. Taehyung has to get a few shots- he’d missed out on so many of them when he was a hybrid working in the circus industry that the doctors were trying to play catch-up. Hoseok is used to the tantrum that he and Jimin go through every time that the 6th of the month rolls around. and hopes that they’ve forgotten about it. 

- Hoseok had reminded Jungkook about it. In the kitchen the night before when Jimin and Taehyung were upstairs. Taehyung had unfortunately overheard from the hallway. 

- Hoseok has so much trouble just getting him out the door to go to the doctor’s office. (he’d been planning on saying that they were going to the park and then pulling a fast one on them to get them into the car- but Hoseok knows that Taehyung must have found out or something) 

- Jimin locked himself in the bathroom earlier but Jungkook’s managed to extricate him before Hoseok has had a chance to placate the frightened Taehyung and now Jimin stands next to Jungkook, holding his hand, More subdued and more still then he ever is, His tail wrapped around his pant leg for some form of comfort while Hoseok tries to convince Taehyung to let go of the beam in the kitchen. 

- Taehyung has literally wrapped himself around it, “I’m not letting go until you call the doctors and cancel” and maybe Hoseok would be angrier if it weren’t for the fact that Taehyung is trembling- Jimin is too, neither of them wants to go. But they have to, and it breaks Hoseok’s heart to make them go. He reminds himself that he has too- he to not take them is to be like their other owners. 

- So he picks up the phone and calls you. You are such a comfort to Taehyung that he thinks it will be good for him, that you might be able to convince Taehyung to let go of the beam. Of course, Seokjin comes too, walks into Hoseok’s kitchen to Taehyung shaking his head every time Jungkook tries to pull him off. Hoseok honey voice trying to bribe him with a trip to the amusement park (not that Taehyung really knows what that is). 

- All Seokjin has to say is, “Tae, come on.” His voice nothing but a pure command for Tae. All the hybrids to straighten up, Tae has his head down, ears pinned to his hair and his hands sliding off the coulomb to hang by his side. “Yes alpha” he murmurs, suddenly contrite. Much to the wide-eyed surprised of everyone in the room- especially Hoseok.

- “Okay that’s new” Hoseok mentions, only to receive a well-placed elbow from Seokjin, “shut up” he hisses, the blush turning his cheeks bright bright red. Seokjin is definitely not used to being called alpha. No one- not Namjoon or Yoongi has ever referred to Seokjin as such. 

- Hybrid dynamics aren’t all that new to you- but to Hoseok, who had only ever dealt with one other hybrid until recently, it takes some explaining for him to understand the connotation of alpha.  

- (You end up explaining Later though on the phone. Hoseok ends up falling asleep on the other end, tired from the excitement of the day, it’s not the last time he calls, however. 

- You make a habit of it, always after dinner, Hoseok will call you on your house phone and you’ll sit on your bed chatting with him for an hour or two, sometimes he’ll be doing the dishes in the background and sometimes Jimin will steal the phone to gossip about whatever cute thing Yoongi or Namjoon did that day, endlessly telling you about Seokjin and how the way to a hybrid’s heart is through their ears but also stomach.)

- Jungkook decides to stay home as there simply isn’t room in Hoseok’s car for all of them to go to the doctor’s office and you seem to have more of a positive effect than Jungkook does. He’d been looking forward to some music Yoongi wanted to show him anyway. The ride in the back of Hoseok’s car to the doctor’s office is long and bumpy. You sit in the middle back seat so that both of Hoseok’s hybrids can line themselves along your sides. 

- Taehyung folded over your lap and Jimin’s head hidden in your neck.You run your fingers through Tae’s hair and hold onto Jimin’s hand. Murmuring comforting words to both of them the whole way. 

- Even Jimin has lost his sunny disposition by the time you pull into the medical center, folding himself between Hoseok and you, looking small and scared eyes vacant in the wake of so much panic. Murmuring, “Hate this place” every time they pass a doctor and hiding under Hoseok’s shoulder. It doesn’t take much to wonder what happened to them. 

- (Hoseok will tell you later on the phone, that after the circus Taehyung had to get some serious surgery on his knees, while Jimin had been so sick from neglect that he needed to be in inpatient care  and a few rounds of antibiotics to get rid of some serious pneumonia before he could be transferred to the adoption center. 

- You could imagine how traumatic that could be, could imagine that whatever doctor’s had treated them, they probably hadn’t bothered to explain to them why they were doing what they were doing- and left them in the dark about what was happening with their own bodies.) 

- You’re steely and stalwart, holding Taehyung’s hand just as strongly as he’s holding yours, whispering reassurances every few feet. Taehyung’s knees knock the entire time. 

- Through the entire check-up, Taehyung shakes and whimpers, golden eyes wide and terrified of absolutely everyone that approaches him. The only reason why he doesn’t push the doctor away (he’d done that last time and actually climbed on top of the counter) is because both you and Hoseok hold onto both of his hands through it. 

- Seokjin is babbling in the corner, holding Jimin’s hand while he waits for his turn looking like he’s about to head to the gallows rather than the doctors wax paper covered table. Seokjin talks to them about the new videos he’s making for his YouTube channel to distract them. Telling them he’d love it if Taehyung and Jimin guest starred and decorated cookies with him one day. It isn’t a lie- but you can hear the distress In Seokjin’s words, how much he’s trying to comfort the two hybrids. 

- It’s not surprising that Taehyung starts to cry when they give him the first shot, the big fat tears soaking the shoulder of your shirt even has you hum and scratch at his scalp. Jimin too when he gets his a few minutes later- you can tell he tries to hold back the tears before sniffling. Seokjin almost growls, narrowly avoids letting out the noise strangled in his throat. 

- It’s nothing that ice cream can’t fix, though they both hold their arms stiffly and seem a little quieter on the way back. The adrenaline jump and then the come down make them both sleepy but twitchy. Hoseok takes a moment to text Jungkook when he’s a stop to pick up half a dozen ice cream cartons from the store. 

- It takes a few hours and no small amount of cuddling That night on the stoop of Hoseok’s house, 4 of the hybrids piled on Hoseok’s dark blue hammock, the others fallen off on the grass giggling and happy as Jungkook uses his body weight to make it sway this way and that and Jimin cries, “you’re gonna break it!” Yoongi and Seokjin laughing from the grass, ducking to avoid the swinging feet. Already fallen off but punch drunk from a little bit of sangria that Seokjin had supplied and too much rocky road. 

- Hoseok hugs you, startling you a little, but not unwelcome, his whole body lined up against yours, lithe and a little broader than you’d expected but firm and steady under your hands. His hand cupping the back of your head. he speaks through the thickness in his voice, and though you knew hoseok hadn’t been happy to do what he’d done today, you hadn’t realized he was close to tears. “Thank you- I don’t know what I would have done without you today, y/n I-”

- “Hobi” the nickname slips out without you realizing it, “it’s okay- I- I love them too much to let them be so scared on their own like that.” You can almost taste the smile on Hoseok’s mouth when he says that he likes it when you call him that. You pull away but stay a little closer than usual, and maybe it’s Hoseok’s imagination but you look like you’re trying not to show how happy you are. 

- “This is starting to feel a lot like family isn’t It.” he says, you nod agreeing even as Jimin shrieks and falls off the hammock, much much happier than he’d been 5 hours ago. “Yeah,” you say, soft and heavy. And Hoseok can tell that you don’t mind one bit. “Yeah, it does.” 

- Your new closeness isn’t missed by any of your hybrids and even when you go back to your own houses (albeit reluctantly) Jungkook and Jimin smirk at Hoseok, but don’t say anything. 

- For the next few days, every time he thinks about it he groans and slaps his hands over his own flaming cheeks, Jungkook poking at them. Jimin’s sing-song voice teasing of, “Hoseok and Y/n sittin’ in a tree” Jungkook and Taehyung joining in for the k-i-s-s-i-n-g part. They must have heard it at the park the other day because he has absolutely no idea where they would have learned it.

- Hoseok starts to realize, every single time he gets a notification on his phone from you, your name popping up on his home screen, his heart beats quick and heavy. it Dosesn’t matter if it’s Another voice message or a text or a picture that one of them has taken, he can’t help but start smiling.

- One night after you send voice messages back and forth, you end yours with “sorry I’m being dragged away by Yoongi to cuddle, goodnight Bobi! I’ll see you tomorrow” and even after Hoseok sends back a “goodnight! sleep tight! don’t let the bed bugs bite” he still finds himself lying in his bed legs hanging off the side, Jungkook and Taehyung giggling from the bathroom, while Hoseok lies in bed and replays the message again and again just to hear “goodnight Hobi! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

- You know how little kids get? when they get so excited about going to some amusement park or zoo that they can’t fall asleep the night before. So excited for tomorrow to come that today somehow drags. That is exactly how Hoseok feels. Jimin sidles up to the side of his bed, listening to the message twice, 

- “You’re crushed like a grape” Jimin nudging Hoseok’s thigh with his foot when the message ends. “You are so so fucked”  he laughs, Hoseok whines. He replays the message and Jimin smiles, Pressing a kiss to Hoseok’s forehead before he goes to join Taehyung and Jungkook in the bathroom.  Whatever they’re doing it required not one but 2 types of bubble bath and dish soap and would probably inevitably damage Hoseok’s floor. 

- “I feel objectified when you compare me to fruit” Hoseok complains, but Jimin just winks at him from the door, licking his plush lips and eyeing the little bit of skin at Hoseok’s waist where his shirt has pulled up- where Hoseok knows there are still hickeys, barely faded, from a few nights prior. “at least you’re yummy?” he says, before he’s pulled into the room by Jungkook and leaves Hoseok to wallow. “Woh! how did you get the bubbles that big?”

- And when Hoseok takes stalk of his emotions, feels his crush on you multiply, he realizes that he is absolute- irrevocable- pass the point of no return-

- Jimin is right,  Hoseok is royally fucked. 

(Please comment and reblog! Likes are nice, but they do little to support content creators!)

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

Home (T. Konecny & N. Patrick Imagine)

I didn’t finish this, but I don’t have the motivation to either. So enjoy 3k of self-indulgent bs I wrote when I was upset.

Rating: T

Pairing: T. Konecny/Reader/N. Patrick

Words: 3008

Warnings: Food, general negativity

Requested: yes / no

Summary: *Daniel Powter voice* You had a bad day...

Life sucks.

Life sucks and everything is terrible and you’re so fucking tired.

Your shift had gotten changed and no one bothered to tell you, so you woke up at 5:15 to your manager asking why you weren’t there yet, even though you usually don’t start until 7. Thus, you had to scramble through getting ready and driving to work in record time, except you didn’t realize until you’d gotten to the stadium that you’d forgotten your badge, so not only were you late, but they had to make you a temporary. Luckily you’re generally a good employee, so you just had to apologize a thousand times and work a little faster than usual, which is objectively better than getting fired. But it also sucked extra, because the reason your shift had been changed was due to them accidentally giving too many people the day off, so you were understaffed with a 3 o’clock 76’ers game to prepare for. Even on a calm day, hauling around boxes of food and delivering them to the kitchens was enough of a workout to justify not spending money on a gym membership, but with being half staffed and starting late, you were ready to collapse by time you were finished. Your entire body ached.

It would have been bad enough if it were just a rushed day, but everyone seemed to be in a pissy mood as well. The cooks snapped at you, because the chefs snapped at them, except the chefs also snapped at you, so you just got the business end of everyone’s bad mood. Plus you always felt bad when you were late to work or late with a delivery anyway, and you’d barely been sleeping, and you were constantly hungry but too nauseous to eat, and you couldn’t sit still for five minutes but moving was exhausting. So you were just guilty and irritated and mad at the entire world but mostly at yourself.

Once you clock out, you don’t even bother pretending to consider going back to your place. Traffic is a bitch, because you head out at the same time everyone is coming in for the game. You want to scream. You may or may not roll your windows up and do so, but no one can prove anything.

By time you reach your destination, the frustration has faded to leave you empty and apathetic and more tired than you’ve been in a long time. The doorman greets you, and usually you’d ask how he is and make small talk for a minute, but right now all you can do is shoot him as much of a smile as you can manage and thank him as you enter. The elevator ride feels like it takes a thousand years. The sight of their door is your first bit of relief in days; you don’t even have to dig out your key because it’s unlocked. Leaving it unlocked is probably not the most responsible decision, but they’re not the most responsible pair out there, and you might have sent them several frustrated texts during stolen seconds throughout the morning that would imply you’d be coming over.

You stop in the entryway to drop your bag and kick off your (ugly) regulation non-slip shoes. Just being here allows you to take a deep breath and relax, even minutely. You find Nolan in the kitchen, leaning on the island as he reads something on his phone and snacks on something definitely not on his diet plan. For a moment, you allow yourself to simply look. To appreciate the strong cut of his jaw, the constant flush of his cheeks, the curl of his hair against the nape of his neck.

“Hey nerd,” you greet, padding over to wrap your arms around him from behind. He hums, pressing back into you a bit. With your face buried into him, eyes closed, you can hear the quiet clack of him putting his phone down.

“Bad day, huh?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You just groan, pulling away enough to grab his hand and pull him out of the kitchen and toward the couch. He sits obediently, propping his feet up on the ottoman so you can spread out over the rest of the couch with your head in his lap. One hand on the side of your neck, he uses the other to play with your hair and scratch your scalp. It can’t be pleasant for him. You’re still sweaty and grimy from work, desperately in need of a shower, but he continues nevertheless.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You don’t really want to, and you know he probably doesn’t want to either, so you save both of you the trouble by shaking your head.

“When’s Travis gonna be home?” you ask after a few minutes, turning onto your back after breaking the peaceful silence. Nolan checks his watch.

“Like twenty minutes,” he says, settling his hand over your collarbone now that you’ve turned. You let out another groan. Twenty fucking minutes.

“He’s at a meeting, he’ll be home soon,” Nolan mumbles, trying to appease you. Soon, hah, not soon enough. It was nice to mope with Nolan, doing nothing but laying around and letting his calm demeanor soothe you, but you always prefer to have them both around. Nolan can settle you like no other, but Travis was better at actually cheering you up. Working together, they made the perfect resolution to a shitty day.

Twenty minutes ends up being closer to thirty. The first half is spent with Nolan stroking his thumb along the skin under the collar of your uniform shirt, until you start feeling too gross and decide you should definitely get a shower. They have way better water pressure than you do, and you savor the hot water beating over your sore back until you hear the front door open. Trav is home. After giving yourself a cursory towel-dry and wrapping the (ridiculously) soft towel around yourself, you don’t bother getting dressed before bounding out to intercept him before he can even make it through the bedroom door. He laughs when you catch him in a hug, but squeezes you back nonetheless.

The two of you get changed together, chatting a bit about your days. He switches from his suit to a t-shirt and athletic shorts, and you pick out something cozy from your designated drawer. The urge to steal something of theirs to comfort yourself is powerful, but you resist, because you have them already. Who needs one of their oversized shirts when you have the real deal?

Once dressed, Travis wraps his arms around you from behind, huddling up against your back and enveloping you in his perpetual warmth. He waddles the two of you to the living room, keeping you plastered to his front, like a parent helping their child work out their first unsteady steps. The exaggerated swaying is exactly ridiculous enough to get a laugh out of you, the barest giggle that feels cathartic after the awful day you’ve had. The sound makes Travis cheer, pulling your arm up into a fistpump of success, which only makes you giggle more. As previously stated: Travis is really good at cheering you up.

During your time in the master suite, Nolan has gathered various pillows and blankets from around the condo and made a sort-of nest on the couch. You grab your favorite stuffed animal from the pile the second Travis lets you go, fussing with the pile of bedclothes until it’s arranged to your satisfaction. Then you proceed to arrange Travis and Nolan to your liking; Nols on the left with his feet on the ottoman as he likes, Trav wedged into the corner on the right, one leg spanning the back of the couch until his foot can bury itself behind Nolan, while the other leg is bent at the knee to settle his left foot flat on the floor. They are both more than adequately propped and padded with pillows, allowing them to be comfortable whilst providing you the perfect resting place.

The moment you’re fully settled in-- head on Travis’s left thigh, feet on Nolan’s lap, angled perfectly to see the TV without straining your neck or eyes, nor sacrificing full view-- Nolan hands you the remote without debate or question. You click through the usual streaming services for a few minutes, finding nothing of interest. Honestly, you already know what you want to watch, who are you kidding. Rather than continue the charade of considering other options, you click through to a less-than-savory streaming app Trav had installed a while back, despite Nolan’s concern for viruses. You go straight to the search bar and quickly to your favorite cheer-up movie, lodging the remote half under your forearm after pressing play. One final adjustment in position, and you’re set for the next two hours.

Throughout the movie, Nolan absently massages your calves and ankles, which he’s unusually good at, probably from getting so many massages at the rink. Travis scratches your scalp gently, rubbing at the base of your skull now and again, lucky to get you post-shower. They both let you make your commentary without complaint, even throwing their own comments in here and there. Maybe you got a bit too into the things you liked, and learned a gratuitous amount about them, and occasionally wanted to share your knowledge, despite it being entirely useless. You didn’t need to feel smart, necessarily, just heard. Understood.

The screen finally fades to black, jumping back to the preview screen automatically. Though Nol maneuvers your legs so he can stand and hobble to the kitchen, shaking out his knees along the way, you simply close your eyes and appreciate the situation. Yes, you had a shitty day. But you also have two wonderful, loving boyfriends who put off their game tape to watch your favorite movies for the millionth time, curl up with you for hours even if it makes their joints go stiff, listen to you ramble about the things you’re passionate about with admiration rather than complaint… You’re burrowed under your favorite comforter, with your favorite people, in a safe place, with the promise of forever under your tongue.

Nolan brings back two bowls with a properly portioned amount of diet-appropriate snacks, that he hands to you and Travis to hold while he settles back in. One bowl has these weird “bites” that only Nolan likes, so that ends up in his hands before you start the next movie, Trav holding the bowl of home-made trail mix the both of you will presumably share. You all snack and watch your favorite rom-com, probably more invested than you should be after having seen it this many times. But it serves as an adequate relief from the leftover stress of your day. Plus, witnessing TK and Nolan evolve from pretending not to care about the story, to nearly screaming at the TV when the characters do stupid things, is always a bonus and a privilege. It’s difficult for them, especially as professional hockey players, to express anything both genuine and outside the scope of traditional masculinity, you know that; that’s why it’s such a stunning scene to be allowed to witness. Any time they allow themselves to openly feel around you, you feel more trusted, more loved.

After the fade to black snaps back to the preview screen, it’s roundabout time for a slightly overdue dinner. The three of you debate the merits of ordering out versus making the lemon garlic tilapia you’d picked up the ingredients for the other day, deciding to be responsible and cook the fish before it spoiled. They’re both useless in the kitchen, so they mostly sit at the island and provide entertainment while you cook, occasionally bringing you something you need. In the past, you’d attempted to teach them some culinary skills, but in the interest of not burning the condo down most of the cooking is left to you or their chef. Because they have a personal chef, like the rich bastards they are. But again, you’d rather they not die in a grease fire, so maybe that’s for the best. Even if you’re a little jealous.

The recipe is fairly straightforward, so it’s not too much work after your long day. And making food always makes you feel a little better anyway, especially if you’re making it for other people. Food is love, and all that, so it was just nice to work on something and have someone actually appreciate it (instead of yelling at you for being ten minutes late). The boys get into an argument about the best way to counteract some opponent’s play style, or something like that, and you have to give them each a good whack on the arm with the spatula to get them to disengage. Luckily, dinner is ready not long after, so they don’t have time to work themselves back up.

They both help you serve the food, setting out plates and glasses and silverware on the small wooden table as you dish out fish and rice and squash. The larger filets go to them, as well as a heartier portion of sides. They’re gonna need as much as they can get before the official season starts and they end up losing all the weight they’d gained over the summer. When you’re at home, dinner is a quiet affair. Usually it’s just you eating on the couch as you watch a show or scroll social media. With Travis and Nolan, however, dinner is loud and long and engaging. The both of them talk throughout the meal, pulling you into the conversation so often that your rice is almost cold before you finish it. For as long as you’d lived alone, you’d convinced yourself that you were okay with the silence-- enjoyed it, actually-- but after your first dinner with the boys, you couldn’t deny that the commotion was infinitely preferable.

Clean-up is a breeze between the three of you, Trav and Nolan doing the bulk of the work to make up for not cooking. All you have to do is hand the dishes to Nolan so he can wash them, handing them off to Travis to dry and put away. Trav had been banned from washing after a few too many arguments about what constituted “clean”. You’re not entirely sure it wasn’t a ploy to get out of the hardest work, but you and Nolan love him, so you’ll let it slide. On occasion, you’ll play background music while you clean. This is one of those occasions, and you’re caught off guard when Nolan perks up and Travis drops the plate in his hands to the counter with a clatter.

“It’s our song!” he says, almost loud enough to make you worry about retaliation from the neighbors. But it is your song, so you’re not particularly worried about what Mr. Steinberg thinks.

The three of you move at the same time, Nolan placing the cup in his hand into the sink and you setting the pan you’re holding back into the pile, letting Travis lead you into the more open space between the stove and island, where you’re less likely to break something. As the music plays, you all move more-or-less in sync. Travis and Nols swing each other around as you spin around them, only to be pulled in so Nolan can push and pull you around while Trav shimmies around you. You’re all laughing, singing along to the old jazz song, Sinatra’s deep croon guiding you around the tiled floor. This is one of those rare times that Nolan really lets himself go, allows himself to smile and laugh and dance like no one is watching. Or maybe like you and Travis are watching, and he feels safe enough to be open and happy in front of you both.

After the four or so minutes of the song ends, the three of you converge in a standing pile of smiles and laughter. The three of you exchange kisses and nudge heads and shoulders, just enjoying each other’s company. Enjoying the fact that you get to have this, this overwhelming, chest-bursting happiness. But eventually, you have to return to the dishes. Instead of being a chore, it’s significantly more an activity to do together. The three of you chatter as you wash, unable to wipe the smiles from your faces-- even Nolan.

As Travis places the last cup in the cabinet, you allow Nols to wrap his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth. Rather than complain, as he usually does, Travis simply joins in, wrapping his arms around the both of you. You’re entirely encompassed by their affection, doing your absolute best to radiate appreciation and affection. You’re not sure that you’ll ever be able to express how much their care means to you; but you’re also not sure you’ll ever truly understand how they feel about you, either. But no one does this for someone they don’t love dearly. They don’t watch shitty movies, or pet your greasy hair, or dance around the kitchen to your old music-- not even just to cheer you up. Just because that’s who you are and what you like, and they want to be a part of that-- no one does all of that unless they love you.

Time passes; maybe a minute, maybe an hour. All you know is the hard stretch of Travis and Nolan’s chests against your back and front, their heat, the softness of their lips against your cheeks, neck, forehead, shoulders, nose, jaw…

Eventually, you have to part. It takes a bit of effort to slip out from between them, partially because you’re pressed so closely together, but mostly because you don’t really want to leave this place, ever. If you could stay pressed between them forever, you would, without question. They’re your safe space, your home. More than any physical location could be.

[hejer-maomao]

Hello! If you're ask box is still open would you mind doing something for Lancelot where he deals with Alice getting very very lost in Cradle? If that's not something you want to write then perhaps some general Red Army with Alice headcanons? Thank-you very much and hope that you have a good day/evening/night!

Hey there! Of course honey ❤ I am ready to write anything you request! As long as it’s not explicitly banned in my rules, then be free to ask any scenario from me!

Both scenarios are so adorable and I definitely want to write both! But, unfortunately, real life is too demanding these days, so I’m going to have to pick one.

I believe you guys like the way I write Lancelot? Because you won’t believe how many requests I have for this precious baby, and I can’t be happier, to be honest!

Then Lancelot it is ❤ Let’s get to it!

MC/Alice getting lost In Cradle HCs:

It was your very first winter in Cradle, right after you started dating Lancelot, when things suddenly took a turn for the worse.

Lancelot has been extremely busy with his work, spending almost all of his days signing papers and attending meetings. While you perfectly understood how important your lover’s job is, it did not mean you were simply okay with not seeing him for multiple days in a row, only getting a quick glance at him when you both happen to pass in the hallway at the same time. Even in your own shared bedroom, Lancelot would always show up late at night and would wake up early at dawn, making it nearly  impossible to talk to him, especially when he was looking absolutely  exhausted, ready to pass out even before reaching the bed.

One snowy day, you decided that you have reached your limit. The snow was leisurely falling in Cradle, and the entire city was covered with a variety of lights and ornaments, making it extremely attractive for a romantic walk. Deciding to invite Lancelot at his break time, you gathered up your courage and knocked at his office, sure that he, as well, wanted to spent more time with you.

Unfortunately, you happened to choose an awful time to visit Lancelot. Due to the bad weather, several infrastructures were starting to show signs of cracking in the Red Territory, and Lancelot had his arms completely full with the non-ending restoration processes as well as safety measures. Barely glancing at your face, Lancelot heavily sighed at your request, before he coldly mumbled:”I do not have time for such childish activities, Alice.”

You have spent the entire week all by yourself, trapped in your room, without even having a single decent conversation with your lover, despite sharing the same living space. All of your frustration slowly piled up and you ended up shouting on top of your lungs something along the lines of “You shouldn’t have started dating a child in the first place then!” before making your way out of Lancelot’s office, slamming the door so hard, you were sure the soldiers in the backyard heard it.

Not bothering to even grab your coat, you headed for the exit, your eyes already stinging with unshed tears. You were not sure for how long you were walking for, but when you finally snapped out of your daze, you found yourself near the Lake of Tears. 

This magical place has always been one of your favourite places, and you often met up there with Lancelot in the past, when he wasn’t that trapped in his own job. Finally registering the cold wind on your cheeks, you hugged yourself tighter, already regretting your anger outburst. However, your frustration still did not fade away, and you decided against going back to the Red Headquarters before you calmed down.

The sun was already starting to set when you finally felt ready to head back. At this point, your hands were trembling from the cold and you could barely feel your feet. As you made your way out of the dense forest, a foreboding feeling settled in your stomach and you unconsciously quickened your pace, as anxiety pushed you to hurry up and seek shelter.

This decision; however, turned out to be a terrible one, as your urgency caused you to take a wrong detour somewhere along the way, which pushed you further into the forest instead of out of it. The weather was only getting worse, snow now falling harder from the sky, the wind howling in its mightiest sound. Your body wouldn’t stop shivering and you were sure your lips have already turned blue, but you still forced yourself to take another step towards what you believed was the exit.

Snow crunched under your feet as the world started to blur in front of your eyes, threatening to suddenly disappear from your sight. You shook your head twice to get rid of your dizziness, but that only made the ringing in your ears worse. Pausing to lean on a tree, you struggled to catch your breath, embracing your cold body in a futile attempt to warm it up.

The view in front of you swirled and danced, and your entire body felt so heavy, all you wanted to do was fall into a deep slumber right there.

But before you could hit the cold grass, two arms caught you in a tight embrace, a fluffy cloth wrapped around your body as you were pulled against a sturdy, warm chest.

You could vaguely hear Lancelot’s husky voice from afar, and you desperately longed to see his handsome face, but your eyelids simply refused to obey you. You fell into a deep darkness for hours, and once you woke up, it was already bright outside.

Quickly scanning your surroundings, you hardly registered that you were brought back to your bedroom, as you saw Lancelot lying right beside you, soundlessly sleeping.

Your chest tightened at the sight, as yesterday’s events came rushing back. Tears began to well up in your eyes, the small droplets falling and landing on your lover’s cheek.

The feeling of your tears managed to wake Lancelot up. You scrambled to wipe your eyes, but Lancelot was faster than you, immediately wrapping you in a gentle embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You involuntary shivered, feeling his hot breath on your skin, but you stayed still, still unsure of what to do.

A quiet moment passed with Lancelot simply holding you in his arms, basking in your presence. Once he was sure you were there with him, he softly parted from you, eyes scanning your entire body to further ensure that you were fine.

The moment your eyes met, you felt a strong desire to cry again, but you held it in, opting instead to turn you head away. As you quietly thought of a way to apologize to your lover for the mess you made, you heard a quiet whisper in your ear: ”Forgive me, my love.”

Your eyes widened in shock, as you stumbled on your own words to clarify things; but Lancelot’s voice, laced in anxiety, continued talking. “Those foolish words of mine do not hold any trace of truth. Because of my own carelessness, you almost got lost in the middle of a blizzard, and I almost…” Lancelot’s voice faded for a few seconds before returning once again “I almost lost you. I cannot forgive myself for putting the love of my life in such a situation. I do not deserve your love–”

Before he can finish whatever nonsense he was spouting, you cupped his face between your hands and kissed him hard. Lancelot froze for a second, but he soon returned your kiss, passionately deepening the initially simple kiss.

Once you separated for air, you could not stop yourself from beaming at your precious partner. As if guided by your own happiness, Lancelot tenderly smiled at you, his hand coming up to caress your still damp hair.

“I will not leave your side from now on,” were Lancelot’s next words as he pushed down the bed, “But for now, let me make it up for you.”

I hope you like the result ❤ This was such a lovely scenario to write and I personally enjoyed it! I’m sure you guys know by this time that my style is angsty by nature, so it explains how my stories usually proceed. Happy ending are my favourites, though, so do not be scared!

I was not actually planning on posting this today, since I’m quite busy with several university projects (Someone send help please), but then I saw @dreamscapesin1582 plan to celebrate Lancelot’s birthday and I was immediately motivated to finish up this Lancelot’s request!

It’s a little bit early, but oh well, a gift is still a gift! This is my own participation in this Lance Week, and hopefully we continue to shower this beautiful man with more love ❤ If I find more time later on, I will try my hands at writing more. But no promises! I'm literally drowning in my studies 😭

(P.s: I was not invited to this celebration, but I hope it’s okay!)

[jaroslavlewis]

The Same Old You: Behind a Photograph

Title: The Same Old You

Chapter 1: Behind a Photograph

Author: Jaroslav Lewis

Fandom: Detective Conan

Pairing: ShinRan with slight KazuHei

Summary: Time has passed for them to believe that they have changed only for them to realize that some things haven't. Some things just don't.

Chapter Summary: She liked photographs. He never did but her habit grew on him. Now, they keep the same photograph to remind themselves of how pictures never change the same way memories don't even if people do.

Disclaimer: This is the first Chapter of the excerpt I posted last week. This contains some side/satellite characters which are my OCs. I don't own Detective Conan and any of Gosho Aoyama's characters. I simply borrow them when I'm bored.

New York, Friday, 8:00 am

He sits back, staring at the pile of case reports on top of his desk, with a mug in his hand. The bitterness of his black, morning coffee wakes him as he takes a sip. The warmth floods his whole system as he drinks. The caffeine starts to kick in and then suddenly, he feels energized and ready to start the day's work.

He takes a small bite out of his cream cheese bagel and then sets it aside together with his coffee mug. With a sigh, he takes one folder, ready to go through with the filing of case reports which he absolutely despises. Then he feels a punch on his shoulder. It doesn't hurt him but it is strong enough to make him flinch and shift his attention to whoever did it to him.

"What the fuck?!" He reacts in full straight English as he stares at the assailant who turns out to be a petite woman with brown hair, tied in a neat pony tail. She is tan, brown-eyed and wore an NYPD uniform. "What the hell's wrong with you, Jess?"

Jess then looks at him furiously with her hands on her waist.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?!" She answers back, this time taking a folder from his desk to hit him with. He raises his arms in surrender, still confused by her sudden attacks. "I can't believe you're ghosting Yejin! What's the matter with you, man?"

Then it hits him. He purses his lips together, thinking as he stares into space. Jess puts the folder back in its rightful place before casually propping her short frame up on his desk so she can sit there. He proceeds to take a file from his desk to promptly scan through it.

"I don't know…" He shrugs. "I guess she's just not it."

Jess furrows her eyebrows in both confusion and frustration.

"You only had one date with her. How could you tell?" She asks looking at him judgingly. "God, Shinichi! You're unbelievable!"

"I don't know, okay? We just didn't click. The chemistry isn't right. I'm sorry." Shinichi apologizes swiftly, brushing off the topic as he starts typing the report on his computer. Jess continues to stare at him, quizzically as if analyzing him.

"Chemistry shemistry. What do you know? You're a detective. Not a scientist! Is she not beautiful enough for you? Was she not a bombshell like I described?" She interrogates like the police officer that she is.

"She's pretty, alright…" Shinichi replies in an apathetic manner as he continues to type on his computer. The case reports suddenly seem interesting to him now.

"Then what's the matter?" Jess presses on. Shinichi then stops typing and leans back to his chair's back rest. He briefly looks at framed picture on his desk. It is a photo of himself with her at the Kiyomizu-dera in Kyoto, from ten years ago.

"Nothing." He answers. "She's great. She seems nice too. But…"

'She's just not her…'

Shinichi shakes his head, avoiding certain thoughts as he leans over his computer to type again and to start working. Jess hops off of his desk but she doesn't leave his cubicle.

"But what?" She asks curiously as she studies his uneasy manner.

"Nothing…" He repeats, avoiding Jess's gaze, hoping that she would just leave him alone but she stays. "I feel nothing…"

Jess shakes her head.

"It's a shame. Yejin was so into you. Can't see why though. You're so cold." Jess comments, teasingly. "You're hopeless. You've practically rejected and broke the hearts of all women here in New York."

"I think that's too much of an exaggeration, don't you think?" He chuckles, half-heartedly.

Suddenly a man in an adjacent cubicle peeks at them. He is in his forties with ashy-gray hair and light skin, his eyes were blue with gray undertones. He has strong features, and looks somewhat intimidating but his smile is kind.

"That's because the one he truly wants isn't in New York…" The man says, joining the conversation. He then disappears for a while as he leaves his cubicle, only to show up, approaching Shinichi's with a bag of jelly donuts which he offers to Jess who takes a piece and to Shinichi who politely declines since he suddenly feels as though he has already lost his appetite after being suddenly put on the hot seat. His bagel and coffee sit on top of his desk to grow cold while he works to get his colleagues off of his hair.

"She's someone you left in Japan. I'm thinking, that girl in the picture." He points to the picture on Shinichi's desk, deducing like a pro as if they are in an actual crime scene. Shinichi laughs with not much energy. He feels like a cornered culprit. His heart aches with nostalgia as he looks at the picture again. He stays silent, not knowing what to say. The man on the other hand has a satisfied smirk on his face. Jess gapes in awe at the deduction and at Shinichi's reaction.

"Wow, Inspector Collins, come to think of it, Shinichi has had that picture since he got here and he has never said anything about it." Jess comments. Shinichi shakes his head disapprovingly, hoping that they'd stop pestering him. He tries to remain focused on his work since he has tons to do, but the image, the memory of her keeps messing with his brain, making him lose focus. Even after ten years, she still has that effect on him.

"So who's she, Shinichi?" Inspector Collins asks. His tone is calm and more concerned and caring. "You're awfully secretive, you know."

"Nothing." Shinichi lies with bad attempt, dismissing their show of interest in his personal life. Even after a long time has passed, he still couldn't get himself to talk about her without getting hurt.

"Nothing huh? But clearly, she's important enough to have her picture sitting on your desk for years…" Jess says, shaking her head in disbelief at how bad a liar Shinichi is.

Shinichi on the other hand, says nothing. He smiles sadly as he looks at their picture together and it takes him back to when they were both so young. It had already been ten years since then, but he remembers it just as if it were yesterday. When he thinks about her, he could still remember how her frame felt against his, how she stumbled and he caught her, saving her from a bad fall. She was tall for an Asian girl but when she stood next to him, she looked like a small fragile being that he wants to protect. He remembers the way her lips felt against his cheek the first time she kissed him when they were in high school. And then everything comes rushing back, he remembers every memory they had, the good and even the bad…

"She was the one who liked taking pictures. I never did but her habit grew on me." He says fondly. He takes the frame in his hand and looks at her. He touches her image through the glass, ever so delicately. "She says she liked pictures so much because they never change, the same way memories don't even when the people in them do…"

Shinichi sighs as he places the picture back carefully in its old and permanent spot on his desk. Jess and Inspector Collins stay silent, marveled at how he has suddenly opened up to them.

"She's sentimental like that." He chuckles, remembering her adorable quirks. "Her name is Mouri Ran. She's my childhood friend and my first love…"

Tokyo, Friday, 10:00 pm

From the different side of the world, she stares at the same picture as she stands in the dim room of her new apartment. She drops her shoulder bag on her desk and she takes off her trench coat hanging it by the chair near her desk. She takes the picture in her hands before dropping exhaustedly on her neatly done single bed, while still in her day clothes.

She sighs as she looks at him, studying his half-startled, half-annoyed candid expression. She looks at how he casually wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Goosebumps creep to her skin as she remembers the feeling of him holding her protectively. She remembers his warmth, his touch and she suddenly feels a need, a deep longing for him.

She can't help but think about him still. She can't deny that she still thinks about him every day and even more after today. She wonders how could ten years pass by already, how could she have aged and changed and deep down she knows that he has already too but despite all that and although she hates to admit it to herself, she is aware that her feelings for him haven't.

It is pathetic for she has tried and tried so many times and she continues to do so but despite all her on-going attempts she still continues to fail, so many times, one "relationship" (if it ever lasted long enough to call it that), one date after the other.

Just a few moments ago she took a chance on another date but it didn't go well, at least on her part. And in a few moments, Sonoko will find out why. She groans at the thought. Sonoko is gonna freak yet again.

Then as if on cue, her smart phone rings and she reaches her pocket to answer it. She finds Sonoko's name on the screen and she groans again because she knows she has to take the call, tell her everything then she'd have to endure her long hours of scolding, lecturing her about her boring, non-existent love life.

Without much of a choice, she accepts the call and brings the phone to her ear. She never got to answer with a hello because Sonoko already starts talking.

"Ran! How was it? Did you have fun? Wasn't he great? Ah tell me everything!" She squeals ever so excitedly. Ran winces. Sonoko's gonna be so disappointed. At loss for words, she stays silent.

"Come on, Ran! Tell me! When's the second date gonna be?" Sonoko pesters impatiently after hearing no response from her friend.

"Please don't get mad…" Ran begins, begging but before she could even continue, Sonoko had already let out a gasp of disbelief.

"For the love of god, Ran! Please don't tell me you're rejecting this one again." Sonoko sighs exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry." Ran apologizes, resting her head on her pillow." It's just not gonna happen."

"But why? Is my taste in men not good enough for you? I've already set you up with a lot of great guys! I'm running out of them!" Her friend complains.

"Well, he's cute, very handsome as a matter of fact but he…" Ran struggles to find a more appropriate, less-brutal comment. "He lacks substance…:"

Ran could imagine Sonoko face-palming at this point. She couldn't help but wince to herself.

"What? Are you saying that he's dumb?" Sonoko asks

Ran stammers and mumbles some incoherent words, feeling very embarrassed at her irrational pickiness.

'And this is why you're gonna die alone.' Ran silently tells herself.

"I didn't say that but for lack of better words, yes. Yes, he kind of is." Ran replies and Sonoko groans in frustration over the line. "He refused going to the abstract art gallery nearby the restaurant because he said it would be boring to look at and that abstract art is so easy that a toddler could make them."

"So, what? He's not perfect. You're just saying that because you have a thing for smart boys!" Sonoko retorts. Ran is about to disagree when she went on rambling. "Not to mention, your great love is such a huge nerd."

Ran's face starts to heat up in embarrassment. Sonoko continues to ramble but she fails to hear her by the sound of her pulse, ringing in her ears as her thoughts drift to the other side of the world, as her thoughts drift back to the past.

Her heart skips a beat remembering his weird quirks, the way he's so passionate about things he wants to pursue, the way his eyes would light up every time he talked about Holmes or about some case he solved. Though Ran is not much of a mystery geek as he is, she'd find herself mesmerized just looking at him just being so driven and passionate. Then she smiles sadly as she thinks to herself how it is one of the reasons why she loved him so but also the main reason why she had to let him go.

"Ran, are you listening to me?" Sonoko says, making Ran snap out from her reverie.

"What?" Ran asks all of a sudden, realizing that she hasn't been paying attention to her concerned friend. Sonoko sighs for the nth time.

"I was saying maybe you're trying to look for something wrong in other guys because you can't find his traits in them…" Her friend explains and it suddenly hits her. "Come on, Ran. There's only one reason. You still haven't gotten over Shinichi even after ten years…"

"That is so not true. Ten years is a pretty long time and I've had some serious relationships after him." Ran says, but her voice sounds more like a defensive squeak rather than a well-constructed argument with conviction, as though she is trying to convince herself rather than reject Sonoko's spot-on conclusion. And it is funny because she's a respected lawyer just like her mother. But alas with such conversation, she would easily lose her composure.

"Please, Ran. Your only serious relationship after Shinichi was with Ryuji-san from college and even then you were still so guarded with him compared to when Shinichi was your boyfriend." Sonoko counters.

"Well, Ryuji turned out to be a cheater so…" Ran reasons, hoping to finally shut Sonoko up and it does for a moment until…

"True. Which takes us back to what we've been talking about earlier.-Shinichi. Call him. I thought you guys broke things off on good terms? Why are you guys cutting each other off of your lives?"

"We're not cutting each other off. We just got preoccupied with things and lost contact with each other. Remember how tough law school was for me? And Shinichi, you know him with all the cases he has to solve besides he already works for the NYPD. He's too busy now. Well, we both are. We have different priorities now."

Ran's heart aches at the thought. Sonoko did have a good point. She and Shinichi used to be so tight, like two peas in a pod. Now, it's just different. She somewhat blames herself. Maybe her mother was right after all.

Falling in love with a detective would do you no good.

And she hit the double whammy since he is also her childhood friend. Now, everything's just in the ruins.

Sonoko is about to say yet another word when a beeping sound on the line interrupted, thereby saving Ran from a longer discussion of her dreaded relationship failures.

"Call waiting. I have to take this. It could be a client." Ran explains to Sonoko and she sighs in defeat.

"Alright. But this isn't over okay? Think about it, okay?"

Ran doesn't promise Sonoko anything and takes the other line. This time she finds Kazuha's name on the screen. Her curiosity grows, she wonders what her Osakan friend could probably be up to at the hour. She hopes that it wouldn't be anything like Sonoko's call earlier.

"Kazuha-chan?" Ran asks in wonder and she hears a delightful squeal from the other end.

"Ran-chan! You would not believe what just happened!" She begins, giggling giddily and excitedly. "Heiji asked me to marry him and I said yes!"

Ran gasps and for a moment she is speechless and feeling all sorts of happy for her friend. She grabs another pillow hugs it as she rolls over her bed with a smile, trying to restrain herself from jumping up and down on it out of excitement. And then she wishes she could fly all the way to Osaka in a second to give Kazuha a big hug.

"I'm so happy for you! Congratulations, Kazuha-chan!" She says and Kazuha lets out another giddy laugh. Ran swears she could hear her blushing. If that is even possible.

"Oh my god. This is such big news! Tell me everything!" Ran demands excitedly.

"Sure! Every detail, but first thing's first…I want to ask you a very important question." Kazuha says. "How would you like to be my maid of honor?"

The question earns a cheerful squeal from Ran.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

New York, Friday, 9:00 am

Shinichi is taking a short break from his work, browsing through the newsfeed of his social media account. He looks bored until something peaks his curiosity. It is a new post from Kazuha. Since she is one of his friends he becomes so interested as he hovers his finger through the touch screen ready to press the reaction button but he reads the caption first.

I can't believe I'm marrying this ahou.

Tagged on the post is his best friend who is none other than Hattori Heiji, his fellow detective who stuck with him through thick and thin back when he encountered trouble with a huge, dangerous syndicate.

His cerulean eyes then focus below Kazuha's post and he sees two pictures. One is of Kazuha's hand with her ring finger bearing an elegant diamond ring and the other is of Kazuha and Heiji together, all smiles and right below the post were comments, one of which immediately caught his attention because of the name of the person who wrote it.

Mouri Ran: Congratulations again! Love you guys so much. Honored to be the maid of honor. Pun intended. LOL

He takes notice of how she flooded the comment with heart emojis. He finds it adorable. He unconsciously smiles and soon his mind is filled with questions. He couldn't believe it. Hattori is finally getting married and not only that, he totally beat him to it when all along, back in the day he really thought…

Suddenly his phone rings and Hattori's name and picture appears on the screen, requesting to video chat with him. Shinichi snaps out from his thoughts and smirks. Typical, Hattori. So he answers, positioning the phone at an angle in which his face could clearly be seen and then he sees Hattori's face through the screen, smiling from ear to ear.

"Not gonna lie. I was actually expecting this call, right now…" Shinichi greets him. "Congratulations, Hattori."

From the other end, Hattori scratches the back of his head sheepishly and laughs.

"Thanks, Kudo. Now that you know, I guess I'll cut to the chase." Hattori says. "Remember when you told me you owe me big time after the syndicate case? Well how about paying your end of the bargain by being my best man on my wedding day?"

"Of course. You didn't have to threaten me with my life-long debt." Shinichi chuckles. Heiji smiles triumphantly.

"Great. So, we'll see you soon?" Heiji reiterates and Shinichi nods.

"Yeah. Keep me posted when you guys think of a date so I could immediately file a leave and book a flight." He reminds strictly.

"Sure thing. Thanks again, man!"

"No problem."

Tokyo, Friday, 11:00 pm

Ran now lies in bed in her pajamas browsing through her phone smiling giddily as she looks through Heiji and Kazuha's photos together. Suddenly she feels a slight pang in her chest. It finally sinks in. Everyone's moving forward but her. Her smile fades and she feels the presence of loneliness. She shakes her head. She is not about to let such thoughts ruin such moment to celebrate her friends' milestone because she genuinely is happy for them. Although at the back of her mind she wonders, would she ever have that kind of relationship in her life? Then she realizes she isn't getting any younger.

Then a ping from her phone distracts her from wondering. She sees a notification on her social media and it opens to reveal that someone "liked" her comment and has commented right next to hers on Hattori-kun and Kazuha-chan's proposal announcement. Her eyes stays glued to the screen as soon as she sees the name and reads his text

Kudo Shinichi: Guess, I'm planning that bachelor party after all. See you soon! Best wishes from the best man.

He ends the text with a winking emoji and Ran chuckles to herself and shakes her head. It is just so typical of him.

'That subtle hint, but dramatic announcement. He still has that charm.' She thinks to herself, contemplating whether or not she should hit him up or wait for him to do so. Her lips curve into a mischievous grin as she presses the like button on his comment.

She decides to be subtle with him too.

AN: Sorry it took a while. Got a little preoccupied at work. Anyway, here's chapter one of the story. Made sudden changes as I was writing it. Originally, I planned to reveal the reason of the break up in this chapter I realized it would ruin the story flow and natural progression because I've decided to do two timelines, two perspectives in one chapter. I felt that an information overload is at risk if I'd stick through the original plan. So, I decided to reveal the past on chapter 2 instead. So stay tuned!

Feel free to tell me what you guys think as well. This would be my first time writing a chaptered fic for the DC Fandom so I'm really hoping it will turn out well. I usually just stick to one shots because I'm afraid I won't be able to commit because I've failed so many times. Hahaha

Anyway, I will be posting this fic on , AO3 (Yes! I finally have one now!) and on tumblr. So if you guys want to follow me or this story, you can pick any options for your convenience.

Fanfiction.net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13195514/1/The-Same-Old-You AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626277/chapters/41558528

Will try to update tomorrow, if not maybe a few days later.

It's 6:56 AM here and I haven't slept. So, forgive me if there are typos and grammatical errors, not sure if I proof-read it enough since I'm sleepy. Will go through it again as soon as I get my rest. For now, hope you guys enjoy.

BTW, I've done a playlist for this fanfic. Just so, I'd be able to set the mood while I'm writing it. Tell me if you guys want to know what I listen to while writing this and if you'd like to listen to the playlist while reading it.

~J

NEXT CHAPTER

[keyhala]

So... about life.

I've been wanting to write this for a while. I just haven't had the time, the energy, or the willingness to accept 'defeat'.

It's a long one, so below cut for length.

Some of you might remember a post I made back in 2017, which dealt with all the things that happened to me and Shortstuff between 2014 and 2016, leaving us to leave the house we'd bought, move one and a half hour away from my working place and just... destroyed us with how her mother could not behave like an adult and had to villainize us for... well, nothing.

For those of you who haven't, the post is here. Please feel free to read it.

At the time, I expressed a hope that things would get better from there on out. That we could manage the years we'd promised to rent the house out for, and things could... get better.

They didn't.

The brother said he was going to buy the house after renting it, but a few months in, he decides he doesn't want it. It has too many problems. He complains the bills are too high (I just send him the bills, I don't forge them, idiot. You pay what you use in electricity and gas) and he complains that we're stealing money from them (We're not. They're paying EXACTLY what the house costs every month, not a penny more. Nothing for upkeep, nothing for renovations, or new utilities, that's ALL on us), and proceeds to NOT PAY HIS BILLS for several months.

At the time, the mother at least steps in and pays what's due, so it's all okay. 2017 is going okay, for a bit.

Then Shortstuff's student funding is pulled in August. She gets nothing. I say it's fine, you are only studying 50%, finish school. I'll fix the money for now. She get's sick leave 50% FINALLY after years of talking with her psychiatrist, and the next hit hits.

She isn't getting any sick pay, despite being away the 50%, because she's studying, and will be getting her sick pay from her student funding. But... her student funding is zero. She gets nothing. So we go to social services, as for social funding.

She doesn't get any, because I earn money, and I can support her.

In the same breath as this, I start feeling bad. Really bad. I wake up with fevers, shaking, throwing up. I go to work, I feel disconnected, I fall asleep, I get fevers, I feel disoriented. More throwing up, more fever. I call in sick, go to the doctor. They find nothing. Rest up until fever is gone, back to work. Two weeks later, same thing.

This keeps going for a few months, until eventually I decided to make an appointment with the closes emergency psychiatrist as well. She finally connects the dots. I'm burning out, and fast. I'm so stressed I start forgetting things, I get so stressed I get fevers, I am so stressed I can't sleep. Everything is just piling up. She suggest I take 100% sick leave and rest up.

But I'm the only income we have. I can't. I make $2000 and the bills are $1600. cutting out 20% that full sick leave does will put us in the red.

In December, they convince me to take 25% off, and get a sick day in the middle of the week (Wednesday) and see if that helps. 25% means after sick pay I'll have $1800. Just enough for the bills.

But the Government takes its sweet time.

We can't cover our bills. We keep burning through our savings. Stuff at the house breaks, the brother doesn't pay his bills, the MOTHER starts not paying the bills. We go about $1000 in the red one month. Shortstuff decides to try working 10 hours a week despite her inability to do both that and study with her own sick leave, but she does it for my sake. It's not enough, we keep losing savings, we'll go bankrupt if this keeps up.

We decide to sell the house.

WW3 ensues. No, seriously. The mother is FURIOUS, she starts calling, yelling, blowing up. The BROTHER blows up, starts stealing furniture, stops paying bills entirely, tries sabotaging things for the sale. Things get worse at work, too, for Shortstuff.

At work, her mother is there. Her mother who harasses her, makes her feel unsafe, and just generally treats her bad. She gets pulled into the changing room and yelled at for personal stuff, AT WORK and can't say anything back because her mother is a group manager. She get's shoved, told to work more, told to not loiter the moment she stops a second, and just generally feels unsafe and stressed.

She gets home sick, and her mother LEAVES WORK UNANNOUNCED just after lunch to take the one and a half hour trip to our apartment, barge her way in, and proceeds to lecture Shortstuff (40 degrees Celsius of fever, sinus infection and drugged down on fever inhibitors) on what a horrible person she was, how much of a traitor she was, and that she should know that if her sister (who has late-diagnosed diabetes, and also an eating disorder, and who REALLY shouldn't be living with the mother considering how she's acting and behaves) DIES, Shortstuff would have to live with 'having murdered her sister'. She leaves after demanding she show up on Christmas, and stating she wants her 'kind and caring' daughter back.

She just wants her TOOL back. The daughter who you could get money from, put all your subscriptions on, rest your entire future on and DEMANDED would take care of you for the rest of your life.

Granted, this isn't helping matters. Shortstuff doesn't want to go back to work. I understand. We talk to the management at work about it... nothing happens. As always.

I can't get ahold of my doctor in January to prolong my sick leave, so I go back 100%. Fall sick 10 days later, stress. Finally get ahold of my doctor again in February, and she sets me back to 25% sick leave, and sends me to a psychiatrist for a proper evaluation, since my therapist says she can't seem to help me with my stress.

I keep going on sick leave 25%, being free Wednesdays and... it kind of works? It kind of works. I don't get sick every two weeks, but I still go to bed every day immediately after work. I know I'm going to Japan in June for Tales of Festival but unless the house sells and we get money in, we won't afford it. It makes me sad, makes me want to sleep and never wake up. It feels like stuff will never end.

I make calls daily. To real estate people, to bank, to government about shortstuff's rejected sick leave, to government about MY sick leave, about insurances, cutting down on things to save money, selling stuff online to get money, doing commissions—

In March, my computer dies. Not a problem for 7 years, and one day I'm drawing, it lets out a high-pitched shriek, and dies. Motherboard fried. Everyone online is the same: no use repairing, better to buy a new one.

New one is $4000. I borrow the money from my mother, and cry as friends online send me a few $100 in helping pay her back.

I finally get my evaluation from the psychiatrist. Undiagnosed for 28 years, I have ADHD and Autism. It's likely why I've been unable to handle 'normal' stress and why I've burned out. It explains SO much stuff about myself I always thought was weird. She suggests we prolong my sick leave of 25% still, and I agree.

I tell my mom. She says she doesn't think I have anything, 'anyone can get a diagnosis if they try' and she scoffs at me saying the medicines will help me. It hurts. I don't tell my dad.

medicines help. I feel more at ease, I don't procrastinate as much, I feel like I can start and finish stuff. The first few days I keep looking over my shoulder, because for once, my head is silent even when I'm not 100% engulfed in something.

We keep trying to fix stuff at the house. House showcase is set to May 3rd and May 6th. We get the photographing done, clean up (while trying to avoid the people still living there who aren't even paying the bills anymore) and get it up on the web.

First showcase is a success. 3 people interested. One person calls the realtor and asks him what we want for it. I explain we want 10% above asking price to let it go. I hear nothing back. Friday we're heading up to Stockholm for a comic convention we agreed to months before and I managed to make nothing for since I've not had a productive day for months. On our way to the train, we get a call. The person interested is willing to buy it for 10% above asking price, if we sign immediately.

We're heading to Stockholm, though, and I explain that. Realtor mentions his WIFE is working at a place close to the station, faxes the contract there and we head there in a hurry to sign, then head up to Stockholm.

The sale goes through, moving in date is 11th of June, the day before we're to head to Japan.

We book time for cleaning, reiterate to the mother and brother that they have to move out by May 31st (as stated in the contract we wrote them in February). They're not happy. I don't care, I just want the house sold. We're burning through our savings fast and will have NOTHING for Japan unless this goes through.

Zelda, our sweet, darling cat, falls sick again. We decide it's time for her to go. 6 wonderful years with a kitty no one thought would survive the first night we found her. She fell asleep in my arms out in the sun on May 23rd.

When we arrive back at the apartment (that we're renting from Shortstuff's father, who's held a VERY passive role in this... thus far), we are met by her eldest brother (not same one as who's renting) and the father. They tell us we need to be out of the apartment by June 30th.

They KNEW we were heading to Japan on the 12th, they KNEW we wouldn't be back until the 27th. They KNEW we had stuff with the house all the way up to the 11th. THEY KNEW WE JUST PUT OUR CAT TO REST.

Worst of all, they complained we 'only' gave them 3 months to find a new place to live. They gave us 1, a month we wouldn't be able to look for a place for 3 weeks of the time.

We know now, later, that the Mother was given the apartment, the 'poor thing' because we had 'ruined her life'. Also, she has been spouting to everyone she owned a 3rd of the house and we've scammed her... y'know.

We lent her $7000 in October 2016 to help with Shortstuff's sister's care. We didn't get any money back from that. They didn't pay any bills the last months, putting us back about $5000, they sabotaged stuff in the house (breaking stuff, ripping electrical sockets from wall, cutting off TV cable, letting the pool pump be out in freezing temperatures so it broke) putting us back EVEN MORE in costs for the house... but we scammed her. Sure.

So suddenly we have two weeks before going to Japan, no time to mourn our lost family member, scrambling to find an apartment.

Luckily, my dad came to the rescue. A friend of his' daughter was going to rent an Apartment just half an hour's walking distance from my job, but her job offer fell through so she had just told them she couldn't take it. We got the number, called, asked if it was still up.

It was. It's more expensive than the other apartment, slightly smaller, but it's liveable. We're told we can move in July 4th. That makes us homeless for 5 days, but dad says we can stay with him if so.

I have a meeting with a nurse at the psychiatrists office in end May, talking about how the medicines are working. I remind her they promised to prolong my sick leave and my current slip ends May 31st, and she promises to fix one.

It doesn't happen, for some reason.

We DO get the house in order (even if they moved out 2 days late, ruined stuff, and left furniture, rotting food and everything in disarray so we had to pay EXTRA for the cleaning), we get the papers signed June 11th, we get our money, pay off our debts (Mom for computer, sister and her boyfriend for covering our lost revenue on bills)... and we go to Japan.

Japan and Tales of Festival gave me life again. I met people, I laughed, I had FUN, I didn't have to WORRY for ONCE. Tales of Vesperia got so much love and I was overwhelmed when they announced the party, I looked at Shortstuff and she just went 'go'.

I love Shortstuff, so much. Without her, I wouldn't have been here today. My psychiatrist agrees. She still wonders how I'm still alive.

Japan was fun, but coming back home hit me hard. We didn't have time to think, packing everything up, and moving. We manage to pressure the father to let us stay until July 4th, since they gave us so little notice AND they overstayed their welcome in the house.

We move into the new apartment July 4th, but the previous tenants had apparently been a hassle and moved out too late too, so the electricity hasn't been wired (they were replacing old wiring) so we only had electricity in the kitchen. It would take a few weeks, he said.

It took 3 weeks of us living in only the kitchen of our 2 rooms and kitchen apartment before we had electricity. During this time, Sweden was still mid up in its '100 days without rain' and 35+ degrees outside. The apartment was 28 degrees. It was torture.

First week of living there, I get word from the government. They're denying all my sick pay from December to May, because they don't see how I can work 75% but not 100%, and why I have to have a free day midweek ('How is your work capability 100% some days and 0% some days???') which means the money I thought was gonna come in, isn't. The sick leave extension I was going to get for June (and late July) also didn't happen, so I have no choice but going back to working 100% from July 2nd. I call my doctor's office about appealing and seeing about continuing sick leave, and they tell us they'll arrange a time.

...That went as well as we thought it would.

I planned a trip to Japan September 5th to 18th for the Tales of Vesperia Anniversary Party, and in the time from July 2nd to September 5th, I've been sick home from work 26 days. 26 days out of 47. My boss is wondering if everything is okay, I tell him it isn't. They know everything that's going on, and they nod and tell me to take it easy and just say if I need help with anything.

Shortstuff comes back to work since her school is on pause, and her mother is on Vacation. It works fine for a while, and when schools tarts again she goes down to 50%. School is set to end in October.

But her mother comes back, and she gets sick. VERY sick. She gets a sick leave of 75% (because she wanted to bring in some money) in beginning August, then meets her psychiatrist again in end August, who immediately sets her to full sick leave, and antidepressants, because she's considered suicidal.

Work wonders why, I reiterate that her mother makes her feel unsafe, and that Shortstuff has been feeling bad all year from seeing me have to struggle to bring in money while she does 'nothing'. That she's had zero income since October 2017, because the government sucks.

The government still hasn't approved her sick leave.

End August, I get terrible side effects from my medicines. I feel like I'm dying, my heart beats so fast I can't breathe, and I get clammy and nauseous. I get ahold of a doctor in beginning September and they ask why I haven't called earlier (I have) and they tell me they scheduled a time for September 19th. They also tell me to cut my medication. I extend my vacation to the 19th, because I know I won't have the energy for both work and doctor's appointment that day.

Second to last day before I go to Japan, I cry at work all afternoon. I barely make it through the day and go home, I cry hysterically all evening. i just want to give up, I don't want to fight anymore, I can't. Shortstuff feels horrible, and I feel all the more horrible about making her feel that way.

I go to Japan. I spent the first few days trying best I can to just get out of bed and do the things I wanted to. I spend more money than I should, because currently, the only joy I get is from buying things. That's the only time I feel excited or happy.

It's fun, though, but I can't sleep. I Skype with Shortstuff every night when it gets too late so I can fall asleep with her there. I can barely get out of bed, I barely eat. But I try having fun. Anxiety fucks me up several times per day and I cry hysterically every evening, but I try to have fun.

I feel like giving up.

The Anniversary Party was the best day of the year. Maybe my life. I had tickets to both shows, I got to see everything, and I had a few hours of NO worry, NO real life... just Love for my absolute favourite game. I've preordered 6 versions of the Definitive Edition.

My mom would tell me to not spend all the money we got from selling the house, but I DEFINITELY need 6 versions of the remaster of my favourite game. Bite me.

I come back home. I sleep. I go to the doctor.

I break down. She can't understand why it took so long for them to book me a meeting since I called in July, she can't understand why I got denied sick pay, especially since I was set to be 100% sick but decided to try fighting because I couldn't afford being sick.

She writes a long, long list of descriptions of my burnout, my ADHD, my Autism, why they make me unable to work, why we're appealing. She prescribes me new medication, she writes me another letter. I'm on 100% sick leave from that day. She asks me if I'll be okay money wise or if we should try 75% again, and I just hell her I don't have the energy to fight anymore. I've barely gotten by for a year because I couldn't afford full sick leave and that just made it worse and I STILL couldn't afford it so 100% might be just as well.

She looks honestly sad and upset when she writes the prescription, and tells me she'll send me a copy of the Note to the government once she's finished it. She mentions she's set the initial sick leave period until the 31st of December.

I tell my boss the next day, I tell my coworkers. No one is surprised. Everyone knows what's going on, everyone knows what has happened. No one can do anything about Shortstuff's Mom being at the workplace even though she's probably 70% of the reason why Shortstuff is on antidepressants (yours truly and her guilt about that being the remaining 30%) and about 50% of the reason why I am, because it's 'difficult' to fix a situation like that.

I understand, but I also don't. On Shortstuff's Note it says 'unclear' on the question if the doctor thinks she can ever come back to work. I am on sick leave until the end of the year. But her mother gets to keep her job, gets a free apartment, and complains how 'everything' is against her and how people never care about her.

I hate her.

I got my note today. I'm crying. I'm crying now, as I'm writing. My doctor is so angry, she's describing my issues, how much Ive struggled, how much I've TRIED to work despite needing to be full sick leave, how hard I've fought to need as little government support as possible, and she CAN'T understand how they could deny a patient with that much issues.

On my note, it says 'unclear' on if I can ever go back to work.

I... I'm 28 years old. And they think that this... all this... might have damaged me so much I can never work again.

But sure, Shortstuff's Mom is the victim.

She gets away scot free and more... but she's the victim. She's alienated Shortstuff from her entire family. None of her siblings talk to her. They threw their baby sister under the bus for an abusive and manipulative mother, even after telling her they'd be on her side.

And for what?

The ONLY thing we ever did, was saying we wanted to move to a place of our own.

If that's a crime worthy of ruining two young people's lives over, then wow.

Wow.

I'm just babbling now. This has been incoherent but...

I feel horrible about this too but... I have a donation thing on Paypal. For now we still have money left from the house sale. But we've signed for a new apartment end next year... and we hope that moving there, we'll be able to get our life together. Live again.

So... if anyone has the ability to or want to, please consider dropping something in there. I might open a Ko-fi too if anyone prefers that rather than PayPal.

I'll also make some sales posts later but... yeah.

I've babbled enough. Just... I wanted people to know why I've been... on and off, and what's going on and...

Just...

Yeah.

[pingou7]

Nous allons enfin nous régaler! (Tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are)

the food travel au 

3 ½ month film schedule. 31 countries. 24 episodes.

2 people who might just fall in love along the way. 

                        Chapter 3: France : Paris-Lille

Author: 

@pingou7

(Read on AO3)

They arrive in France on schedule and thankfully the whole crew has pretty much recovered from their stomach bug by then. Shara Bey looks a bit queasy in the morning perhaps, but everyone is still curious about what their short trip to the country of Haute Cuisine will entail.

Everyone but Jyn that is, and despite his growing anxiety — because this was France, people! — Cassian can’t help but notice that she has grown more subdued since they’ve picked out their luggage at the airport.

Okay, she’s in a mood and her French is infinitely better than what he personally recalled from High School. It’s true what they say about French being bad at languages, by the way: It’s not that people don’t bother, exactly, it’s more than they’d best not to, their accent makes it hard to understand.

Honestly, he just gives directions in Spanish and there the taxi driver gets it, easier for everyone. Until Jyn stops looking by the window and engages the conversation!

“Nous ne sommes pas en vacances. On est une équipe de tournage."

The driver seems ridiculously overjoyed to hear her speak his language and grins at her in the rear-view mirror.

"Vraiment? Pour le cinéma?"

"Non, la télévision, c'est un programme culinaire."

"You speak French?" Draven interrupts, interest picked. "I didn't know that, it wasn't on your resume."

"Now you do," she shrugs, turning back her attention on the driver.

"La cuisine française est la meilleure du monde, vous aurez de quoi filmer!"

"C'est l'idée. Mais la France n'est pas notre seule destination, on visite plusieurs pays."

Okay, all of this is so quick and fluid that Cassian can't follow. But he can see Draven's brain gear turning as he insists:

"What did you say?"

"Nothing important, I'm not disclosing anything, don't worry. We're doing a food show for TV, we do several countries. Our friend here thinks French food is the best, obviously, and that we're gonna have a lot to cover."

"It's a given," Cassian smiles, impressed by her proficiency, "it's nice of you to speak up, though. Might facilitate the dialogue, too."

"It's nothing to get excited over," Jyn grumbles, sighing, "I've been to France before and have a knack for language, this is just idle chat anyway."

He can’t explain why but there’s something unsettling for her, that has nothing to do with food poisoning. He's curious, but drops the matter when they make a mandatory stop in a boulangerie, where Cassian marvels about the variety of breads and pastries offered, not to mention the cakes...

Mothma actually volunteers, Luke is already taking out his smartphone and since Jyn has already proven her ability to speak French, she too is put to contribution. The two other cars choose to proceed however, waiting at the hotel.

Cassian, Mothma Jyn and Luke are originally sent to get some crusty golden baguettes, of course, their white crumb, thick and soft. Yet a man before them prefers a boule de campagne, round shaped and thicker still, browner and earthier too.

Fascinating.

Honestly Cassian feels perplexed yet eager to order and the seller is amiable and smiling has she suggests viennoiseries.

"We have to take at least a croissant and a pain au chocolat each for everyone," Jyn declares immediately, strangely bossy all of sudden.

"Can we get a brioche too?" Luke asks, eyeing the one in the counter with barely concealed longing.

"Sure, if you want," she agrees easily, translating the order.

"Oh, there's chouquettes too," Mothma exclaims delightfully, legit clapping like a little girl. Thus a small bag of choux buns with sugar pearls joins the order.

Like she was on a mission, Jyn finally asks for different types of croissants too:

"The regular type is made of fresh butter," Jyn explains, "but we will take the almond version too."

"Would you like some of our savoury version," the seller asks helpfully, "it's with cheese and ham."

While in English he'd known the pains au chocolat to be called chocolate croissant — even if the chocolate is hidden within — he gets primly chastised by Jyn:

"Contrary to popular belief, it's not the same thing."

"Sorry, I had no idea. How do you all even know this?"

"My sister Leia likes posh bakeries," Luke says as only explanation.

"Me too, though it's been years since I've had chouquettes," Mothma adds.

But to his frustration, Jyn doesn't say anything has she asks for the total. He commits as much information as he can to memory and Mothma actually has to chime in with a few Euros of her own since she, Jyn and Luke kept adding some douceurs to taste. Clearly they are more familiar with French pastries than they’d let on, but he doesn’t mind being educated on the subject!

In fact Cassian grins wilder as the demeanor of other clients goes from neutral to slightly amused. He even catches something akin to respect on the face of an old lady behind them, as she glances at the pile of sweetness.

Unfortunately, it’s an improvised stop and they can’t film on a whim right now — photos will have to do. That’s a shame, for Monica Mothma isn’t a woman prone to expansiveness and it would have been nice to catch this unscripted madness, even if just for themselves.

Eventually they buy enough to feed an army or for everyone to develop diabetes, at the very least. It’s all for the greater good of the show, of course... They actually film a tiny clip back at their hotel and post a few candids on Instagram.

Kes teases them for their sweet tooth, saying he should have come with just to protect the bakery’s supplies and Draven rolls his eyes, but both are getting their faces stuffed with croissants and pains au chocolat so... Though far from constituting a balanced diet, their purchases become the entirety of their evening meal.

To be fair, who knew there was so much type of stuffed viennoiseries to begin with? It’s almost maddening!

Rationally he knows he shouldn’t indulge so much on the first day but the bread is crispy, the brioche is sweet but light... choosing is a lost cause and truthfully nobody seems to care.

Jyn is seated across from him though and a tiny speck of chocolate stays struck at the corner of her plush lips. He starts to ogles her mouth and reflexively licks his own — just in case a crumb of his own is there, too — but thankfully she doesn’t pay much attention to the people next to her.

Instead, she keeps staring at an invisible point in her plate. No pastry deserves to be looked at with such sadness unless it got prematurely rotten, and he says as much, eliciting a chuckle from the guys. She momentarily meets his gaze as she bites in her pain au chocolat again but her spirits have not lifted. Failed attempt then... He hopes his heated cheeks are the result of the two glasses of red wine he had before dessert, he’s not usually this awkward.

But she intrigues him, he wants to know her better! She’s unpredictable too and rather enticing. She proves to be an asset to the show and not just as a Camera Operator. But of course there is no way he’s going to say it. Besides it’s wine and sugar load talking and they have to focus on the French schedule within the next hour.

"Last time I was here, I was 15," she finally reveals, "but there's water under bridge."

If he weren't focused on her, he might have missed it, but like a private oath, she whispers next: "Saw has no place on this job, nor in my life. Paris doesn’t change that."

He's the only one to catch that, but before Cassian can figure out the meaning of this comment, everybody’s head snaps up at hearing Draven clearing his throat:

“By public demand, we will be setting this episode slightly freelance, as we go up North. About the capital, Cassian has an appointment at “Au Doux Raisin” tomorrow. It proposes a panel of traditional French dishes that would be interesting to foreign viewers.”

Draven enumerates this in a flat voice, looking bored as usual, yet Cassian starts to freak out internally: France was renowned for its Cuisine. He even follows French cooking shows in his spare time! How is he supposed to do his own thing despite the legions of stuff available?

“Sorry to interrupt Sir, but how are we supposed to squeeze several sets in so little time? As far as I know, most traditional French recipes involve spending quite a bit of time if not the whole day over the stove.”

“Don’t fret Andor,” the Director retorts impatiently, “it’s not like you’re be the one doing the cooking, right? So spare me the nerves. Thanks to our split filming teams, most material will be easily covered too. You just have to taste and judge, not really a hardship for you, I suspect.”

No, perhaps not. But Cassian doesn’t like the way his Director is handling things tonight. Tension increases a bit in the room but he keeps his trap shut, not wanting to spark things off on their first night here. The traveling show was already bumpy enough as far as he’s concerned so better not add to the man’s frustration.

“I wanted to see the sights a bit. It’s the city of lights, it’s every lover’s dream,” Kes mumbles.

Unfortunately, it seems that he's not discreet enough.

“Dameron, if you want to play the tourist, plan a romantic vacation for your fiancée AFTER the rush. We’ve got no time for that and moreover, I don’t care for your personal life,” Draven chastises in a clipped tone.

Cassian suppresses a sigh but the case is closed, crew eventually dismissed for the night. He’s pretty sure Draven was a military at some point before going into production or he is one in an alternate universe, with the way he’s usually behaving...

The next day, the crew did some sightseeing before their appointment — they could not be here and not pause in front of the Eiffel Tower, couldn’t they?

"Come on, we gotta have a picture with all of us! It's Paris guys, you can't be more French than that!"

"We won't all fit on a single one," Wedge Antilles says.

"You already had me posing in London, Skywalker, I'm not doing this again. Besides, Cassian is the one that should feature, he's the face of the show."

"Please Jyn, it'd be a group pic, not just you this time. A memento. Don't you want to show this to your friend Bodhi?"

Damn Luke and his boyishness... Everyone caves, elbows and shoulders squeezed together awkwardly. As Kes and Shara are the only couple, they also strike a cheesy pose for prosperity, likely adding some "romance" to the collection.

They ignore people seeking them for money or whatever petition they wanted to get a signature for though... Some details must be glossed over.

"We're not airing on a discovery channel," Draven says, already checking his watch, "most of the tedious editing falls on Kay’s team anyway. Let's get going."

Of course, for professional purposes Cassian forgoes lunch, preferring to nimble on a sandwich so he’d be famished when the time to shoot arrives.

And arrive it does.

A van comes to pick them up and their materials for the intended point of rendezvous between the Jardin du Luxembourg and the Jardin Des Plantes, in the 5th Arrondissement. Quite a pretty place and Luke already mumbles about some hashtags and photos he’d like to take afterwards.

When they finally enter the brasserie called “Au Doux Raisin”  (At the sweet grapefruit) — a little before the opening, obviously, for the team has to settle — they instantly find themselves in a typical homey Parisian environment. From the very first second Cassian knows why the production chose this establishment in particular:

The meals offered represent just as many potential discoveries, yet not always the cheapest — within reasonable price range nonetheless. The brasserie sets a real atmosphere with portraits in black and white of old famous actors, an old-fashioned counter and something in the air so uniquely French that he’s surprised the staff doesn’t wear berets with white striped shirts.

Truthfully, everyone is excited, including Jyn who looks oddly happy to be there.

“We’re somewhere straight out of the movie Les Tontons flingueurs,” she says, watching their surroundings with sparkling eyes. At the lack of response she gets, she prompts: “You know, Crooks in Clover, also known as Monsieur Gangster? Ring a bell?”

To be honest the actors look familiar, Jean Gabin and Lino Ventura most of all, but nobody shares her excitement and she automatically returns to her defensive stance:

“What? I’m a cinephile and actually did study film making, you know? These actors are legendary among French cinema, you must have at least heard of some of them!”

“Somewhat. I'm more interested in the fact that this is the first time that I've caught you smiling since we’ve left England.”

Cassian only wished to put her out of her misery as they prepared the set. He gets a bit jittery before the beginning of each filming session so he likes to see people enjoying themselves, it calms him down. Yet somehow it was the wrong thing to say and her lit-up face turns stony as she replies:

“Yeah, well, let’s get this done.”

Smooth, Andor, well done, he thinks sarcastically as Draven yells action and a waiter gives him the menu. Most of the crew will stick to plates of charcuterie and cheese but he has a few possibilities to consider. Of course the list has been communicated beforehand, but ultimately Cassian always has the final choice, to stay as genuine as possible and because he prefers to eat whatever strikes his fancy. It’s more digestible in case of several takes.

Finally he chooses a “Bourguignon meal”: traditional snails then beef and wine stew, a plate of cheese and some crème brûlée to finish. Plentiful but really appetizing. Of course, if it weren’t for the show, he’d just stick with some of the various grâtins and be done with it, but the place calls for gluttony and as a presenter he has to make sure viewers will be satisfied.

If the French can stomach as much in one sitting, so will he.

(Still, he’s thankful Kay’s not currently with him or he’d be sure to get an earful...)

The preliminary speech done in a single take, the first course comes quickly. Famous escargots, classic of the French to eat snails, so the occasion was too good to pass on.

Cassian already had some experience tasting snails in the French way, had enjoyed it so he thought he didn’t have to mask his facial expressions.

He was wrong.

The promised “Gros Escargots de Bourgogne” come in front of him and truth be told they look appealing enough. But what the heck is he supposed to make of the... unusual cutlery... that the waiter brought along? It looks more like a surgical instrument than anything Cassian has ever used.

This entrée should come with warnings, explanatory note and step by step tutorial included.

For a split second Cassian blinks owlishly at the camera then he recovers, a consummate professional. Should be easily enough, really, right? A circular plate with six stuffed snails in their shells... a tiny fork with two tines... and pliers of some kind? It has a spring with a round extremity, obviously meant to keep the shell in place while with the fork he’s supposed to stab what’s inside.

Alright, I’ve got it, he reflects after a few nano seconds  of appraisal.

He doesn’t bother with explaining his course of action yet, focused on the task at hand while he states that the snails are cooked with a butter mixed with chopped garlic and parsley.

He looms over the snail closest to him, lift it slowly from his dedicated hole in the plate... but he hasn’t got the chance to use the fork. The damned thing escapes from the contraption and literally flies several feet away from his stunned face.

Nobody moves, not even Draven says cut, yet Cassian stares dumbly at the ruined snail on the floor, hidden two tables away from his. From the way Jyn angles the camera, he guesses she’s zooming on it too...

Fucking French!

It takes three tries for him to master the so called “pince à escargots” — to the utter delight of the crew around him, as they personally try some pâté de lapin à l’ancienne, saucisson sec or saucisson à l’ail and smelly cheese like Camembert or Roquefort.

By the time the Bœuf Bourguignon is served, he feels oddly proud to have won against the perfidy of posh Gastronomie, despite his bruised ego. Thankfully the beef stew is not as challenging, with a regular, universal and most of all reliable knife. Not that he really needs to cut anything, mind you: from what he knows of the process, the beef has macerated in red wine for hours to get this tender. The serving is pretty generous too, and it comes with boiled potatoes, mushrooms, onions and carrots. Thyme and laurel too, to perfume the whole.

He’s full when the four types of cheese come next but he explains the different milks each of them were made of. He actually has flash cards ready on his knees like a cheating schoolboy but their filming time turning short calls for desperate measures. At the dessert he struggles to get through. It’s delicious, it’s just that he reached the peak of his sugary intake. After a few spoonfuls immortalized on film, he hands the rest to Shara’s extended hands.

Overall, good stuff, really. Two glasses of red wine to complete the meal and footage aside, Cassian is more than satisfied with his Parisian trip.

They wrap it up, shake a few hands but take their time calling it a night. Paris is bewitching in the evening and the company is boisterous as they go along the shores of the Seine. Cassian uses it to his advantage, walking his meal off and doing his best to ignore the taunts made over the snail incident.

"I couldn't believe the famous Cassian Andor got bested by a snail. One that was already dead and cooked too," Jyn teases.

"Hey, I succeeded eventually, and it's not the snail as much as the tool that's to blame."

"Still, I thought you'd have more dexterity."

"Sorry to disappoint you, I'll do better next time."

It’s all in good sports really, but while Jyn snorts, Antilles sniggers and Luke stumbles, slamming against his back, blushing inexplicably. What has gotten into them? But she's still smiling as they drive back to the hotel and suddenly he doesn’t mind the French and their peculiarities so much. The production duo have still a decent amount of work before going to bed, but everyone else goes to sleep.

(Maybe Kes and Shara got MIA along the way but the contract doesn’t bind them to a curfew and Mothma turns a blind eye).

Cassian only wishes he had that much freedom as the so called star of the show. But it has been a long day and he would have nobody to share a nightly tryst. Cassian Andor is reasonable, professional and single to boot, so it doesn’t cost him much.

His dreams are fitful and slightly disturbing though. Jolting awake only five hours later, the only image that stays with him is of Jyn, replacing Nicole Kidman’s part in the Moulin Rouge! movie. She looked tantalizing in his subconscious and very not herself: less pragmatic and more eerily sexy.

He shakes the feeling away as he dresses himself. He has a long day ahead and can’t afford to fantasize about the only unattached woman in his crew. She’s a pretty thing and kinda mysterious too, but he is awake now and the dreamy bullshit has no incidence on his job.

He decides to tiptoe in the free area, seeking a cup of herbal tea. Whether mint or ginger should help with the food overload from the night before, surely such things could be found on the table set for self service?

He forgets all about beverages the instant he sees Jyn awake over an hotplate, her back to him. As her name stumbles from his lips, disbelieving, she stiffens visibly and spins slowly around.

Her voice is still sleepy and his annoyingly raspy as they greet each other. In November, the sun isn’t up so early and won’t be for quite some time, unfortunately and the bleached out white neon lights accentuate the exhaustion on her face. Very far from a dreamy cabaret dancer, his mind evaluates worriedly. Has she even slept? She’s dressed in her usual clothes already and ignores the elephant in the room as she asks why he too is already awake.

“I ate too much,” he answers.

“Well of course you did, not everyone can eat as much as the French do just before going to bed. Stomachache?”

“No, just energy of the calories pumping through my veins.”

“How do you plan to work it out then?”

He represses a smirk. With her velvet morning voice, it sounded a lot like an opening for innuendo. She realizes this a second too late and just purses her lips. They are not yet close enough to tease each other, so he throws her a lifeline and gestures to the food he interrupted.

“Isn’t it what you’re doing in the kitchen Jyn?”

“I wish. It’s just... I needed an outlet and I thought I’d best do something useful. Couldn’t wake my best friend.”

He wanted to ask her about what she needed an outlet for, yet people keep appearing and she visibly closes off. Obviously Cassian isn’t the only one awake as the self-service kitchen fills in slowly with the rest of the team. Fat chance, again. He sits, rubbing the back of his neck and mutters a hello.

“What’s the delicious smell I can sniff?” Luke asks, entering the room, nose upturned and honest to God sniffing the air like the human puppy he usually personifies.

“The bread and brioche won’t keep for much longer. So I’m making pain perdu,” Jyn answers, sending a fleeting smile in his direction.

“Lost bread,” Kes translates confusedly, eyeing the slices browning slowly browning in the pan, “what is lost about it?”

“Dunno, it’s just the name,” she sighs, repeating the process to make enough for everybody.

Or maybe the food isn’t the lost thing here, Cassian muses, she is, her tired eyes and forlorn attitude hinting as much. Then, realizing how stupid his thoughts are, he mentally slaps himself and hands the coffee pot to Wedge Antilles, who is blindly reaching for it, like a drowning man and a lifebelt, a junkie and his fix.

Seriously, besides Luke and himself, Cassian wonders how these people can do this work and NOT be morning people. Like, never ever. Kay has complained he had to put with them grumping and groaning until the clock reached 8 AM in the past, but at the time, he thought his friend was being his usual pessimistic self. But as he considers the bunch of sleepyheads around, he has to admit there was some truth to it.

When a plate arrives in front of him, with icing sugar or cinnamon for him to add on if he so wishes, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“You told me you didn’t how to cook,” he says, mildly accusatory.

He leaves the first slice bare, adds sugar on the second and cinnamon on the third, to have the full tasting range. As soon as he tries the first, the goodness dissolves on his tongue, creamy and buttery, the two variations making a perfect combination between sweetness and a tad spicy. He knows various ways to save stale bread, but somehow this tastes different. Besides them Luke was already helping himself with a second serving, grinning.

“Please, this isn't cooking Cassian,” Jyn shrugs. “I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve had this.”

“Not like that, though, this is unique. How did you do it?”

Most of all he wants to know what prompted her to fix this at six in the morning. But even if he had the nerve to ask, she likely wouldn’t answer. So, asking for her recipe was as close as he was willing to go.

“I made the slices my own way. More often than not people use eggs where I used milk. Once the slices suck up all the milk, getting slightly spongy again, I put them in a salt-buttered pan. Easy, not haute cuisine.”

Easy perhaps, but her wistful tone speaks of something more. He knows preparing food can reveal a lot about a person — hell, that was the reason he got enrolled in all this cooking stuff in the first place… — and… well, he remembers their stunt at the Lahmu Restaurant in London. Clearly her relationship to food is… personal.

God, why Kay isn’t here to smack the corniness out of his head?! He almost feels like using a pan on his own skull if that could just stop his brain from overanalyzing a mere breakfast plate.

He doesn’t even have time for this, with the shooting schedule they have to maintain. After all, he might envy other people’s low functioning brains, they are saved much trouble.  

Draven announces their Parisian Interlude is over and satisfactory — praise the Lord for that — but he still has a surprise in store...

“A… bus?”

“Yes,” Draven confirms, ”we should be grateful, it’s fully furbished too, functional, and a bit cheaper.”

“Whatever spares us a flight,” Dameron says in relief.

“You don’t like flying?” Jyn asks, surprised.

“If I have to take hop on a plane, I will. It’s way quicker, after all. But yeah, if I have to choose, road’s better. Plus, we can build team spirit or whatever. It’d be like a school trip.”

“Oh yeah,” Luke cheers, absurdly enticed with the idea, “I’m sure our followers would dig that kind of thing, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jyn shrugs, “I never went on school trips, or I was so young I don’t remember. It’s weird.”

“It’ll be a new experience for you then,” Cassian encourages.

“I guess, but why do you care so much?”

(Good question.)

“We’re all in the same train wreck, we gotta stick together.”

(What was that nonsense... for sure if Kay ever heard him talk like that, he would deck him so hard his face wouldn’t be filmed for weeks!)

They take the A1 highway up North, chatting, napping, playing on phones... and yes, to Draven’s utter dismay, there are stupid songs involved at some point. Dameron started, Cassian picked up, and soon everyone was at least humming along. Perhaps because the driver couldn’t take it anymore, they stop in a rest area about midway until they reach Lille, the northern city that ends the French episode. As if the crew’s sugary consumption weren’t already high, they picked sweets again, albeit regional:

Two metal boxes, one with some minty ones called the Bêtises de Cambrai and the other containing toffee-like Babeluttes du Nord, to have a foretaste of their next local cuisine.

If they’re still alive to document it because Cassian swears he’s gonna die of hyperglycemia before they reach Amsterdam!

They have just one day left to shoot in France when they arrive in Lille two hours later, but they make it work. The city, nicknamed “the capital of Flanders” is picturesque in a different way than Paris, of course, but just as pretty. Places with fountains, houses made of red bricks and old cobbled streets, it’s nice.

As they have little time to spare — yet again — the rushes get more hectic than in Paris. It’s much less representative after all.

The people there talk pretty funny, with words even Jyn has a hard time deciphering, but all are very accommodating and helpful. A few wave at the camera and suggest a dish to try. It’s much more easygoing and Cassian relaxes pretty soon.

Not wanting to spoil any Belgian discovery by choosing a dish similar to what can be offered further North, he decides to try « a Welsh ». Like its name implies, this is not originally a French recipe but it became one of the easiest specialty to eat in Lille:

It is a sandwich composed of bread soaked with beer, cheddar cheese and mustard, covered with a slice of ham, dipped into a cream of cheddar cheese, heated in the oven in a ramekin. Not the most elaborate of the establishment they picked’ but it works perfectly with their thematic for the French episode and their lack of time.

Indeed, La Chicorée (The Chicory) is a brasserie like the one in Paris. Except it’s actually an hundred-year-old brewery, not just for the fancy name, and it’s open pretty late, until 4:30 AM. They are told it’s renowned, too, and Cassian can believe that easily.

For dessert, because apparently the mad guys around him have an insane tolerance for sugary treats, or really want him to die on the job, they have some stuffed waffles with cassonade. This version is thin, thankfully, crunchy, though the garnish of vanilla and brown sugar is most likely rich.

“I hadn’t had those in ages,” Jyn says drowsily, waiting for the Lille-Amsterdam flight a while later. “I bought some for my best friend, but I’m not sure I’ll resist the temptation for long. I’ll have to send them to him.”

“Really? How come? It’s good, but it’s not like it’s so addicting,” Cassian asks, because he still feels curious — perhaps sleepy Jyn is more inclined to share anecdotes?

“Wrong, they are addicting. I loved them as a young girl. I’ve spent some time in France over the years, but none so much as northern France. We were British, after all, so crossing the Chanel was easy and Saw... I mean, I’d known an old lady, Louise, who did such waffles for me.”

Yep, oversharing, he thinks with a smile, and there she is talking about a Saw again. More like eluding but it’s more talk than he ever heard from her. The schedule must take its toll on her, same as anyone else.

"You’ve spent holidays in France then, growing up?"

"My guardian actually had a job in France for a time. He was stationed not so very far from here for about a year, before we moved again."

"So the wanderlust goes way back? It explains why you took on the travelling show."

"Maybe. Saw and I never stuck around for long anywhere, but I've been happy there, it brings good memories for once."

At her conflicted expression, he guesses such good memories are far in between. He recalls her enigmatic whisper from a few days ago and surmises she must have had a falling out with her guardian. Cassian doesn't pry further though when she doesn't elaborate, but he stores the information for later.  

He’s almost snoozing when Draven — no human has the right to be this operative at 3AM... — hands him his phone, mouthing Kay’s name:

“Hello, Kay?”

“Cassian, did I wake you?”

“No, but that was close. Not everyone can be focused on the show 24/7, like Draven, or you. I feel like I’m slowly losing my soul to the cause.”

“Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear. And you’re as dedicated as the rest of us, you’re just being unusually whiny.”

“Well, you’re not here yet to keep me in check so I can be as petty as I want. I’ll feel better after we leave the country and get some sleep.”

“I’ve seen the first French rushes, actually, to see if they could be easily edited with ours. I have to say it’s fairly entertaining to witness your culinary struggles, Cassian. Especially the snail fetching.”

“Thanks a lot, Kay,”

“I’m serious, honestly it should make the final cut.”

“Did your illness kill your brain cells? What part of the first try should be included? The moment the snail flew across the room or the framing on my butt as I had to get on my knees under the table to retrieve it?”

“Well, I’ll leave it for Draven to decide,” his soon-to-be former friend replies wryly. “But just so you know, it could bring in more female viewers.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m realistic Cassian, you have a very nice bottom apparently and judging from the people’s enthusiastic reaction on social media, you’d better use it.”

“I... don’t even know what to say to that. Do you even hear yourself?”

“I’m referring to the show’s ratings, not your sex life Cassian Jerón Andor! You know what, we will speak later, once you’ve put your mind out of the gutter!”

“I love you too man,” Cassian smirks.

Only the dial answers him.

[braindamageforbeginners]

Bane Capital

Cycle 6, Day 9

So, this whole writing project - in addition to trying to bridge that gap between medicine, patients, and healthy people (which is ambitious, I know), is also to provide everyone out there with good, useable information, which means I do have to scrap the planned presentation from time time because of a “teachable” moment. As most of you know, Tuesday is usually my day to get injected with strychnine in the bizarre life experiment to see who dies first: Me or brain cancer. And there will be more than a few days where you have write out a pro/con list to figure out if survival is a good thing.  And if someone in your family is going through chemo, treat their (probably bad) decision to get out of bed and join polite society the same way you would a roommate getting in from the Walk of Shame. Namely, just kind of quietly let them collect themselves (again, I describe them as a chemo hangover because that’s pretty much what they are). Dad’s usually pretty good about this, but this morning, we had the following exchange: DAD: I thought I heard someone creeping down the stairs. SELF: It’s not creeping, I’m just moving at the speed of a 90 year old man. DAD: You say those kinds but we both know -  SELF: Yeah, right now my biggest, most burning life goal is just to make it 90, I’d rather put off the frailty and associated problems for a few more years. I then skulked off to the sofa to compose myself and double-check which species I am. I was doing this when I heard the sound of the coffee pot clinking against a mug, and one of my favorite beverages being poured, and the effect was electric. I now know a cat feels when they hear the tin opener. Which brings up an important cancer survival tip, you’ll need some sort of “happy” or “hangover-relieving” ritual to get up and out of bed (i know hat’s a little cheerful for me, my fingers burned just typing it). And you’ll be tired a lot, so don’t be afraid to abuse caffeine.

We also had a family discussion on potential wildlife issues Stepmom and Dad might face while hiking to visit my brother on Rattlesnake Ridge. Again, that’s only slightly exaggerating it, he’s stationed near an area nick-named the Rattlesnake Mountains (the word “near” is important; wild animals are not known for obeying zoning ordinances), so the following conversation took place (yes, it did): DAD (reading from field medicine guide): If bitten by a rattlesnake, do not try to suck out venom or apply tourniquet. Instead, if there are two hikers, the bitten person should stay in place, and the other person should seek help. Increased heart rate increases the exposure to venom, so stay calm and breathe slowly. SELF: They say that, but if you’re bitten by a painful, venomous creature in the middle of nowhere in harsh terrain, remaining calm is gonna be challenging. STEP-MOM: isn’t there some sort of deterrent, like those deer whistles you put on your car? SELF: I don’t think so; snakes don’t have ears, they can sense vibrations along the ground, though. Just stomp and make some noise, and they’re nocturnal, so don’t go out at night. And  watch your feet. DAD: I think they used to make bite-proof boots using thick leather and steel inserts. Which wouldn’t be comfortable, and the fangs might go in at an odd angle and get stuck. STEP-MOM: I think that’s worse than if they just bit you. SELF: We’ve all had that embarrassing moment when we’ve walked out of a public restroom with some toilet paper stuck to our shoe; imagine that, but with a large, angry venomous creature.

And, since Marizomib’s going on to phase 3 trials in several different brain cancer/spinal cord treatments/cancers, I also thought I’d write about it in a little greater detail. In all the ways that I care about (IQ, memory, personality, “chemo brain”), it has far, far fewer side-effects/detriments than Temodar (I’m still a little mentally “fuzzy” the next day, but that might just be fatigue). And it is three infusions/treatments a month (so far)(you spend 5 days of every four weeks on Temodar, too, which sucks, but I’ve written elsewhere about that), but this has horrific, old school, physical side effects. I’ve written about the hallucinations and/or disturbingly vivid dreams, but there’s also severe nausea (I haven’t puked because I double-fist Zofran those days, but, even with that, you’re aware that something’s not right in your tummy) and pain. The good news is, if you take a large aspirin/Tylenol dose immediately after the infusion, and, like zofran, just take a standard/lower dose every four hours, you’ll do okay. The bad news is, if you’d rather sleep through the night, those chemical crutches won’t be in your system to help you crawl out of bed. Good news though, I did manage to get to the gym with enough energy (thank you, coffee) to seriously injure myself (or it felt that way, anyway) at the gym. It’s oddly cathartic to mangle oneself on the treadmill when you’re in a lot of other pain - both psychologial and physical - that you didn’t sign up for (that’s what I was trying to describe the other day).

Since the drug’s going on to stage III testing, that makes my odds of survival somewhat better (the life-span-limiting factor in GBM cases seems to be how long chemo remains effective, and, prior to this, there’ve only been a handful of them). However, I would think that if some patient got superpowers or something from it, it would have been noted, and quickly. So, my dream of becoming Captain America is dead, at the moment. However, the last year has proven that I am nothing if not adaptable, so I went looking for another role model (I realize I’ve posted versions of this elsewhere, but I’ve done a little research, and there are current events to be discussed).

No superpowers? Check.

Still beefy despite that? Check

Pharmaceutically dependent? Check.

Not fond of the light (that’s just me in a chemo hangover)? Check.

Bent on the destruction of the current political/economic apparatus? Check.

Which brings me to today’s essay topic, “Why Bane is Actually the Hero of the Third Nolan Batman Movie.” Stick with me closely. This was sort-of inspired by another crazed lunatic pointing out that being a billionaire in a time of insane, disproportionate wealth distribution in which poverty literally kills people (that’s not hyperbole, I’ve very, very cunningly gamed the system to get access to treatment, but, again, people get thrown out on the street, and if the state poor-person-insurance program dries up, gets privatized, or defunded, I will die) is indefensibly immoral. I realize I’m a special case, so let’s talk food. one-in-six Americans faces “food uncertainty,”  which is the inability to consistently provide enough food for all members of the family.  Before we get even more political, to bring that home, here’s a fun experiment you can do: take out a standard die out, and roll it. If it lands on a six, someone in the family goes without dinner and breakfast. Not to say that people who work hard and successful don’t deserve the benefits of that, but by the time you accumulate billions, that’s not “successful,” that’s “money hoarding.”

In the Nolan Batman films, they go to great lengths to establish a similar wealth concentration as the very cause of Batman. His parents are killed in a mugging gone wrong. I realize it doesn’t make a good movie if Bruce Wayne gets a PhD in economics and successfully pushes/lobbies for reforms that eliminate the need for people to turn to crime, and, instead, decides to become a billionaire so he can beat criminals to death (I know the big Batman thing is that he doesn’t kill at all, which is why leaves them tied up to lamp-posts)(Wait, that’s Spider-Man, concussions are actually quite dangerous).

You could make an argument that Batman is a good guy in the first film, because Ra’s al Ghul wants to kill everyone in Gotham, which is much worse than letting a lot of them slowly starve to death. You could make the exact same argument about Harvey Dent and the Joker, who function as apolitical agents of complete chaos and destruction. Stopping them is as necessary - and moral - as stopping a hurricane (BTW, Puerto Rico’s power grid is still offline, more than a year after the fact).

All this time, Batman prefers stopping criminals one-on-one instead of judicial reform or a basic universal income. And, as the Joker points out, the entire appeal of destroying Gotham is as a personal challenge. At this point Batman/the security apparatus of Gotham is no longer a part of the problem, he is the problem because he’s attracting homicidal maniacs. And whatever happened to that big pile of money the Joker just lit on fire? That could fund a children’s hospital (just another subtle display from C. Nolan that wealth concentration is dangerous)(BTW, unlike the comics or other portrayals, we never actually see Bruce Wayne’s renowned charity) . But I digress.

The point is, this sort of continues (both the economic degradation of Gotham and the odd petty criminal being beaten to death, I’d assume) into the third film, by which point conditions have become so unstable that Peter Kropotkin - er Bane - is easily able to colonize the sewer system, and bribe assorted CEO’s, politicians into giving him (Bane) access to all kinds of things. Side-note here, Bane is enlightened as to what real wealth is: the ability to affect and/or remake the world as you see fit. That’s in direct contrast with the usual idea of capital, defined by Hernando de Soto as “anything with the ability to generate more capital” (in that same book, de Soto describes how that modern economic and monetary policy do a great deal of harm by sticking to that policy that “only US dollars or things readily converted to them” are wealth, which keep a great deal of poor people - globally - from being able to invest/participate in the economy. 

Yet, with an unconventional view of money and power, Bane proceeds to dismantle Gotham’s elite and the police/security apparatus protecting them. He’s actually almost ethical about it, in that he doesn’t seem to directly target anyone not connected with Bruce Wayne or his (Bane’s) odd vendetta against the man (again, at this point in the metaphor, Batman is the traditional security apparatus that keeps the status quo within Gotham, supplemented by the police). Bane traps the police - the alternate defenders of the status quo - in a cave (but with enough food and/or water or something to survive). This isn’t as bad as it sounds (that’s an opinion, but, screw it, this is an essay on why Batman is secretly a bad guy), as American police aren’t really necessary for law and order. I’ve lived in several other countries where there wasn’t any visible police presence, and I had absolutely no problem or crime, apart from possibly being overcharged for cabs (which I figure might be danger pay, since they also drive on the wrong side of the road at 850 mph). In Miami, FL, I was burgled, and the cops were actually worse than useless, because I had to fill out a crime report, and I didn’t get anything back, at any point. Same goes when someone later broke into my car. The car was still there and working, so I figured I wouldn’t bother with the cops that time, In fact, a third of all murders go unsolved, nationally, and, according to an NPR news report in 2013; national police policies had shifted from “solving crimes” to “crime prevention.”  Care to guess how that works? It usually involves hyper policing of minorities and/or non-violent crime. There have been excellent, effective attempts to reform police and policing in places like Las Vegas and Richmond CA (both of those focused on extensively training officers to act more as community mediators (see Peel’s Principles) than as armed guards - the point is, people are self-organizing, and self-policing for the most part, despite what Darryl Gates might have you think. So far, Bane’s bankrupted Bruce Wayne, backstabbed (literally) the corrupt executives who hired him, and removed an ineffective - potentially dangerous if you’re an ethnic minority - element from the city. If he was in elected office, that would all be considered a win. He also frees the inmates of not-Arkham Asylum. Assuming this prison has similar statistics to federal institutions, 50% will be drug convictions, usually possession or intent to sell (I’m not going to argue that such people are harmless, but, having met a mid-level cocaine distributor - my family is very weird and varied and has many bad relationship decisions - it’s actually more of a lucrative white-collar industry than “Breaking Bad.” However, because it’s fiction and this is all an alternate literary/film analysis let’s assume that it’s thousands of Batman villains unleashed. There’s probably some rioting and chaos, but wide-shots suggest no worse than post-Katrina New Orleans. It’s telling that, in order to make the public frightened of this, Nolan evokes the Reign of Terror, presumably because otherwise there’s very little morally questionable acts here (yes, Bane has killed a few people by this point, but, if the word “hematoma” means anything to you, so has Batman). It’s nice to see that mega-white-person paranoia - “if the minorities/poor people gain equality, they might treat you like you treated them.” on film (I may be reading way too much into this, it is, after all, a series of films in which an untreated, mental patient with a bat fetish beats up petty criminals). The criminal court does a really weird and inefficient sentencing/murder gimmick involving drowning judges, attorneys, and detectives who put them in prison. Which is morally indefensible, but, since that’s happening at rate of one victim every twenty minutes, I’d imagine most of the intended victims would die of old age long before the Scarecrow gets them.

During all of this, Bruce Wayne/Batman gets bankrupted (but not really), and meets a nice girl whom he immediately accepts with almost no question (i’d really like to be more charitable here, since “white, crippled, and broke” is now not a totally-inaccurate description of me, but he’s still involved in stuff that’s illegal). The end-play of Bane and Bruce’s Nice Girl (who turns out to be Rha’s al Ghul’s daughter) is to steal a nuclear device from Wayne Industries. Pause for a moment. Wayne Enterprises developed a new energy source that doubles as a nuclear weapon. Moving past that interesting and disturbing idea that a completely unregulated free market eventually ends with nuclear devices in the hands of billionaires (actually, that was disturbingly predictive), this is the moment when Batman actually becomes an international war criminal. Bet you never thought Batman might be an intelligence asset for the ISI.

That’s not some sort hyperbolic statement, the UN very carefully and highly regulates all nuclear developement - even for civilian use (to give you an idea, the genetics lab I interned at had some slightly-radioactive pixie dust that they occasionally used in labeling or sequencing strands, and the door that lab had either be closed and locked, or someone had to be in it -Like, I wasn’t supposed to go for a five minute bathroom break without securing that room) - and the private ownership thereof is, shall we say, frowned upon. So, the starting Good Deed for Batman - the one that apparently costs him a lot - is that he didn’t directly authorize , the development and sale of private nuclear arms. Which seems moral, until you realize that not making nukes and selling them for private use (to be fair, any major fireworks display would be much more interesting) is normal. Call me a snob, but I’d like my superheroes to be better than me, especially when the Hague might be watching.

Also, this turns the whole moral situation on its head. This is now a weird revenge story in which the daughter of the villain Batman sort-of murdered is back with her big, best friend. It’s either “Make-a-Wish” from Hell, or that old idea - again - that those in power will be held accountable (or punished) for all the times they refused to rend aid when it was needed. The only morally pure character in this scenario is Bane, whose ultimate motives are just to protect and aid his friends (You could argue that Catwoman’s more moral than Batman in this film, but that’s another essay, and this film fails the Bechdel Test so badly that I’m not sure how I’d tackle that). Bane and Talia al Ghul activate the bomb (okay, that’s a bad guy move, to be sure, again, though, developing and/or possessing weapons of mass destruction IS NOT MORAL, let alone legal), and Batman fakes his death in the resulting fiery explosion. That’s not a display of morality, that’s just manning up, owning your own mistakes, and correcting them. Again, that’s acting with a modicum of maturity, not some supreme moral courage.

The happy ending is when Batman - defender of the sociopolitical status quo - actually leaves Gotham to figure out its own problems, after learning that he has become part of Gotham’s problems, which, again, strike me as economic and political, not crime-and-justice.

[osakakitty]

More KatsuDeku Thoughts/Ramblings

The other day I was seeing a lot of people complaining about hate in both the ‘Katsudeku’ and ‘Bakudeku’ tags, but to be honest, I didn’t see it. I suppose I must have the right people blocked.

But, it did get me thinking about things that people love to bring up when discussing the “p r o b l e m a t i c” elements of this ship. Two big ones in particular come to mind.

One has already been discussed to death, and I hope to jeezus I never have to talk about it myself. Yes, Bakugo told Deku to jump off a building. It’s horrible and despicable and I would never defend such awful behavior. It was simple shorthand for Horikoshi to establish Bakugo as an unremorseful jerk. Congrats, dude. It worked.

The second thing, however, is something I could talk about at length.

So I will.

Let’s talk about THIS.

Warning: this is a goddamn long post. Pour yourself a drink.

Before I begin, I would like to preface this by saying if you or anyone you love has been abused, this post is not here to downplay your experiences at all. Many people identify with Izuku as a victim of abuse, and I completely understand why.

However, in this post I will be dissecting why I personally don’t see it that way. While I can fully admit that many of Bakugo’s actions are ones I would classify as “abusive,” I just don’t see Bakugo and Midoriya’s relationship as “abuser and victim.”

For example, once he establishes himself on the same playing field as Bakugo, Midoriya’s attitude towards him practically changes on a dime.

He’s still somewhat self-deprecating in how he compares himself to Bakugo, but...

He is now confident in his ability to stand up for himself.

And he does.

He even shows us, the reader, that he’s more than just confident. He’s cocky.

And yet, even after finding his strength and conquering his fear, he still puts Bakugo on a pedestal above the rest of his peers. While also wanting to smash him into the concrete.

But I’m not here to talk about how much I love Deku vs. Kacchan. Lots of other, more eloquent people have done so already.

I’m here to talk about Bakugo clocking Midoriya in the face.

Let’s break it down:

1) Setup

I briefly mentioned this here, but let it be known that none of our heroes have ever excused Bakugo’s behavior.

He is constantly reprimanded for the way he treats other people, and his classmates mostly see him as a hothead and a brute. Despite the fact that he is one of the strongest and smartest in his class, it’s no secret that his people skills are lacking. It’s even been commented on that his attitude is far from what one would call “heroic.”

Aizawa does as much before the exam even starts:

So of course, he gets paired with Midoriya, who has always been his opposite. Kind, level-headed, and meek.

A common argument against the Bakugo/Midoriya relationship is that Midoriya is still scared of Bakugo. Once again, I just don’t see this. After their first fight, Midoriya’s encounters with Bakugo seemed more like he felt “awkward” rather than “scared.”

In this case, once their fight with All Might begins, Midoriya seems fidgety around Bakugo.

He could be scared, but it’s quickly explained that’s not quite it.

It’s not that he’s scared because of Bakugo; he’s worried for All Might.

He knows if push comes to shove, he can handle whatever Bakugo throws at him.

Speaking of which...

2) Action

I’m gonna level with you. This is probably one of my favorite panels in My Hero Academia.

It’s so simple, yet so effective. Just one glance and you can feel the impact it has. Not only on the characters, but on the mood. Everything else is gone. The background is completely white. You only need to look at Midoriya, Bakugo, and the brutal “CRACK” that Horikoshi lovingly slapped above them.

The panel after it only makes what came before even worse.

It lingers on Midoriya’s pain. The same pain the readers are meant to feel. As if yelling at us, “this is important!” Placing this panel here tells us that Horikoshi wanted the reader to take a moment to let what just happened sink in.

Katsuki Bakugo fucking backhanded Izuku Midoriya in the face.

It’s terrible, awful, and completely necessary for the narrative purpose of everything else that follows it.

Just to make sure you don’t give Bakugo the benefit of the doubt, in the next panel he’s drawn like this. Harsh, messy lines and hatched shadows, like he’s a villain.

Like I brought up earlier, Izuku stands up for himself.

Even when Bakugo has shown what he’s willing to do...

...He continues to stand up.

Izuku Midoriya is no longer a victim. He’s a fighter.

However, it is true that what Bakugo did to him was horrible.

So, what proceeds to happen for the next few chapters?

BAKUGO

GETS

HIS

SHIT

FUCKING

W R E C K E D .

In fact, aside from getting decked by Bakugo, Midoriya’s only injuries come from getting tossed aside and elbowed in the back by All Might once. This is one of the only battles he walks away from looking better than the other participant.

On the other hand, Bakugo gets thrown, pinned, smashed, grabbed, stomped on, and punched so hard he literally blows chunks. I think it’s safe to say that when the pain train left the station, Midoriya might have been a passenger, but Bakugo was tied to the railroad tracks.

I assume this fight is cathartic for people who hate Bakugo. Heck, he’s my favorite character and I found this incredibly satisfying. It was certainly a long time coming.

What makes this payback even better is something else that happens around the halfway point of the fight.

3) Reaction

While you could essentially boil this narrative “action” → “reaction” down to “Bakugo hits Midoriya” → “Bakugo gets put down like the bitch he is,” it wouldn’t be an entirely satisfying conclusion without input from a very important character.

Fortunately, Horikoshi-sensei had blessed us.

Midoriya admits Bakugo is terrible. He knows that.

But he’s still “amazing” in his eyes. Bakugo has qualities that he wants, that he believes in.

So when Bakugo, at his lowest point, admits that he would accept defeat if it meant working with Deku...

“action” → “REACTION”

Glorious.

The best part about this punch is that while we, the audience, see it as punishment for what Bakugo did to Midoriya, its purpose in the story is encouragement.

Remember, Midoriya has always been Bakugo’s opposite.

While Bakugo’s punch was meant to discourage Midoriya from acting, Midoriya’s punch was meant to encourage Bakugo to act. Their discussion afterwards is the opposite, as well.

Rather than tell Bakugo to stand down and let him handle everything, Midoriya wants to work together with him.

You all know what this leads to.

[insert keyboard smash here]

This is only one part of the amazing payoff in this fight.

4) Payoff

You might recall the setup from the beginning of this giant word pile.

Katsuki Bakugo is a jerk, and doesn’t work well with others, especially Izuku Midoriya.

Towards the end of their fight with All Might, they put aside their differences and learn to work together by using something that the other has. Of course, Midoriya uses Bakugo’s gauntlet to release a massive explosion, giving them time to attempt an escape. When that doesn’t quite work, Bakugo has to use something of Midoriya’s. It’s intangible, but it’s something All Might himself said was special to Midoriya.

The spirit of self-sacrifice.

They have no choice but to escape the fight. On their way to the goal, All Might catches up to them, and Bakugo manages to break free from his hold. He urges Midoriya to run, leaving him to distract All Might.

He makes a decision.

It’s a decision he knows will hurt him. He had mentioned it before during the Sports Festival.

Despite knowing that it will put him out of commission, he does so anyway. For Midoriya.

Bakugo could have let Midoriya be the distraction, or he could have attempted to run as well, but instead he chose to become a shield. He sacrificed himself so Midoriya could claim their victory, rather than him.

When All Might nearly pounces Midoriya before he leaps to the goal, Bakugo intercepts him.

He lies on the ground, not caring about his wounds, knowing he’s going to lose his battle...

...So that Midoriya can win their fight.

It’s an uncharacteristically noble thing for him to do, and it probably would have worked. But, as mentioned before, self-sacrifice was kind of Midoriya’s thing first.

So he can use it, too.

After being punched in the face.

After punching him in the face.

After working with Bakugo and sharing their strengths.

After years of being scared until he learned to stand up and fight.

Izuku Midoriya would save even Katsuki Bakugo if it meant protecting him from getting hurt.

That is why I cannot see them as “abuser and victim.” I don’t really see them as anything. They’re still growing as characters. They’ve barely made it through a fraction of their first year at UA.

I suppose the only thing I can see them as are “heroes-in-training.” Maybe because that’s what they are.

One last thing before I end this spur-of-the-moment essay (giving myself too much credit here). There is a very important string of dialogue in the middle of this fight that I want to show in its entirety.

This was only the first step.

There’s so much more to come from these two.

And frankly, I can’t wait to see everything.

But for those of you who still hate Bakugo for what he did to Midoriya...

Well, here’s the panel of All Might punching him in the gut. He did deserve it.