#''you have been horrible for distancing yourself from us therefore we hate you and are sick of you''

[missazura]

No one in the house wished me a happy birthday im trying not to lose it rn

[familyagrestefanblog]

Analysis of the Family Agreste Portrait

Quarantine strikes again and since the Agreste family portrait has fascinated me for a loooong while now I decided to put my thoughts into words and write another essay x3

The amount of informations we get out if it is amazing and its not only highlighting the absolute TRAGEDY it is that this family is about to face such a horrible fall out, it also hints at the former family dynamic before everything went to hell.

So make yourself comfortable and get something to drink, because we will be here for a while.

Here we go: My analysis of this beauty of a fictional portrait

Let's start with the most obvious one: Hawkmoth.

Its commen knowledge by now that the background makes it seem like Hawkmoth is standing behind the Agreste family like a bad omen waiting for fate to take its course and cause their doom. The portrait is brilliantly designed so the illusion is created that Gabriels body (here in a blue suit closer to Hawkmoths normals dark purple one) overlaps with Hawkmoths and a darker line is connecting the two faces as well, which rest on the same height right beside each other. The very same line grows bigger as it goes further behind Emilie - coloring her entire background - showing us that EMILIE is all Gabriel sees when he becomes Hawkmoth. But notice that Adrien on the other hand can hardly be concidered part of Gabriels “sight” at all.

Its forshadowing 101 and damn beautiful if I may say so. But this isnt what I want to focus on in this post.

I want to elaborate on two other key factors that tell us about the former dynamic of the Agrestes instead and what they tell us about the present and future.

The heart:

This is hitting me on another level because look at the heart these three form with Adrien right in the middle! He was so LOVED. This family may have never been anywhere close to ideal but still, there was LOVE and now he's gonna loose it all.

Adrien already lost his mother which led to his father getting even more distant and cold and now his father is becoming increasingly more abusive as he falls deeper and deeper into villainy. Gabriel was never a good father, the show has already made this clear with episodes like "the bubbler", “the collector” or "Gigantitan" for example but gosh there was hope for their little family! The end scene in "Jackady" portrayed it perfectly and I wrote a whole other post just covering the sigificants of Adriens and Gabriels hug in that episode. Check it out here if you want, it goes hand in hand with this one.

Miraculous is all about love and the completely different ways it can affect us, our behavior and actions. Because love isnt just wonderful, pure and empowering, it also can be twisted, destructive and cause the darkst nightmares. And with this family the writers know how to portray the complex love in an abusive houshold thats destined to go up in flames and they also know how to hint at their troubled past with the family portrait.

But this heart visual tells us even more in connection with the positions of their hands. And with these two key factors, lets start with Gabriel:

His hands convey it so strongly. He loves/d Emilie and Adrien so much and no doubt this love for them was certainly the reason why he started his quest as Hawkmoth. But he is now losing himself more and more in the pleasure of his villainy to the point where he forgets why he's doing it in the first place and becomes a complete monster (of a father). But this turn and spiraling into villainy didn't came out of nowhere - this root already had to be in him to grow like that. And this is also something the portrait indeed hints at as well.

Because Gabriel is the only one of the three who:

1. We see so completely open and without hesitation reach out and hold BOTH his family members.

2. Is visually “cut off” from them as well.

But this doesn't mean he was excluded and the only one who truly cared and loved, it just shows that things were more... complicated...as usual.

This is best explained with Adriens hand placements:

One hand is holding his mothers but the other one is visibly not reaching out for his father. But as we all know, that's not because Adrien doesn't love him. In season 1-3 it is made more than clear that Adrien does not hate his father - he loves him alot and tries to be there for him and be patient because he knows that the loss of his mother brought his father terribly down.

Sure, Adrien gets frustrated and angry with him, literally how could he not?? But Adrien tries his best to reach out to Gabriel so they can bond and come out of this tragedy stronger.

But this loving willingness to forgive his father for the chance of growing a father-son bond with him doesn't change the fact that these two didn't had a bond prior to this. And let's be honest here, does anybody actually think this distance between them was caused by Adrien? I don't think so.

So notice how Adriens hand - not reaching out for his fathers - is the only one in the portrait NOT inside or forming the heart.

When the connection of the hands between the family members symbolise their connection to another, then Adrien keeping the hand for his father away from the display of love is VERY telling. It tells us very directly what this distance did to Adriens side of the relationship. Despite Gabriels hand being right there, Adrien does not meet the gesture. And I cannot believe that he did it out of resentment, nothing in the show indicated such strong negative emotions from past Adrien.

It's much more likely that Adrien not reaching for his fathers hand is meant to show us that Adrien felt that he either CAN'T return the gesture because he fears that it'll end in an unpleasant reaction from Gabriel - that it isn't Adriens "place" to reach out to his busy and distant father like that, like it's demanding something - or Adrien simply didn't took Gabriel laying his hand on his shoulder, in the context of posing for a portrait, as a gesture of love and affection.

The way I interpret the portrait is that prior to Emilies dissappearence Adrien did not exactly try to reach out to his father the same way he did from s1-s3, which, I mean, of course wasn't the case. Not only is it NOT the 13 years olds (or younger) job to form an emotional connection to their absent parent - when that’s the PARENTS job - it also wouldn't be necessarily "needed" for Adrien to do so.

Because Emilie at this point was still in the picture so and she was the complete opposite. She was a (or maybe the ONLY) safe, reliable and loving constant of parental attention, affection and care in his life and because of these two HARSH contrasts Adrien learned from very early on to focus mostly completely on her in that regard while kinda blocking his father out.

That most likely wasn't even an active choice whatsoever - Gabriel proofed to be an unreliable resource so Adrien learned to subconciously treat him that way out of self protection. That doesn't mean he had any kind of dislike or malice against his father it just means that he wasn't able or allowed to connect with Gabriel the way he needed. Several episodes show that Gabriel deadass only parented like 15 minutes tops in his life with one of the worst offenders kinda being “Gigantitan” ngl.

So yeah, when I see that the portrait wants to tell me that prior to Emilies loss, Adrien - a 12-13 year old at most - is THIS used to rely solely on the strong bond he has with his mother and not even really reaching out for his fathers love, then I can't help but interpret it in the way that... Well... Gabriel was so distant and emotionally unreliable to Adrien for all his life, that Gabriel simply... wasn't needed by his son. Not at that point of time at least.

And while this may seem weird, because obviously Adrien only now starts to stop craving for his fathers affection and approval (which is btw a horrible, HORRIBLE thing and not something good. A half orphan losing the last remaining hope he had left of having the chance to finally get to form a bond with the only other parent he has left, just to be crushed by disappointment and abandonment all over again until he let's go, is REALLY NOT as much of a good thing people will make it out to be. This is... plain awful) it's actually quite logical.

Adriens hand outside the heart doesn't mean that his father meant nothing to him and therefore refuses to meet and accept his affection (that's literally the complete opposite of what the show shows us), it means that Adriens and Gabriels father-son relationship suffers from a fatal emotional disconnection caused by miscommunication/ a lack of communication.

And this was caused by Gabriel. How? Let me elaborate on that by going a bit far afield (cuz lbh we all have time for this. I’m writing this in quarantine and youre reading this is quarantine, so lets gooooooooooooo).

In "The bubbler" Adrien says that his father "always forgot his birthday", but I cannot agree with this in true honesty. Gabriel is controlling his sons entire life, calls him "the epitome of perfection" and temporarily truly gave up being Hawkmoth for him, he definitely never forgot Adriens birthday.

"The bubbler" even SHOWS us that Adriens perspective of the situation is actually not the truth:

This is Adriens first birthday after Emilies dissappearence and it's incredibly telling how Gabriel handles the planning.

What this entire little sequence tells me is that Gabriel is completely and UTTERLY used to NOT be the one to take care of anything related to Adriens birthday. So Emilie was always the one who did it but somehow - now without her - Gabriel apparently still hasn't even considered changing anything about that nasty non-involvement and just expected Natalie to pick everything up where Emilie left it.

Because let's be real here, knowing Natalie she would NOT have forgotten to get a present if Gabriel truly had told her to. Natalie is never presented to do mistakes like that but Gabriel on the other hand IS definitely presented to us claiming things about himself as ultimate, blameless and true when they simply do not reflect reality. A great example: Gorizilla

You didn’t even speared a minutes of your time for Adrien and he DID try to! Asshat… It's a problem guys. The lack of self awareness Gabriel displays in moments like this is legitimately concerning when you think about how deeply this man is falling right now.

But back to the topic:

Because even if Gabriel didn't even consider doing anything himself for Adriens birthday - not even taking the time to SEE his son (who just recently lost his mother, come on Gabe, really?) - one thing one cannot hold against him: he sure as hell remembered Adriens birthday like any decent parent would and it wasnt portrayed as a this-year-for-the-first-time thing.

And yet Adriens statement still makes complete sense. Because a big, BIG problem with Gabriel is just how much he takes things for granted. He EXPECTS things to be universally known and to never be doubted, just because that's how HE sees them. I will write 10 essays if it's needed to make people understand that Gabriel DOES truly love Adrien, it's just that Gabriel HIMSELF is such a rotten, twisted and toxic person that he cannot see how much his (oppressing) behavior and the way he (doesn't) express his love hurts Adrien and that HE is the one at fault. (for more, once again, read this)

Gabriel LOVES Adrien but he takes the love he feels as such a matter-of-fact that he just completely... forgets to show it.

And when we take Adriens words and look at the Family portrait it unfortunately seems that...

…. Gabriel ALWAYS forgot to show it.

Adriens hand - that should at least be reaching out to his father - is outside of the heart in accepting certainty. Because that's what Gabriels non-presence was for Adrien while growing up: an unreliable and unreachable certainty he had to accept early on as safer to not try to emotionally depend on too much or else he will get hurt.

So yeah, Adrien is the one in the portrait who is very openly not reaching out but only because Gabriel never gave him the needed affection and stability to be able to create that bond.

But let me correct what I said a little earlier: Adrien ALWAYS needed his father. Every kid, especially one in a bad situation like Adrien, does need their parents/friends etc as support system to become independent and confident in a healthy way. And if they don’t have that they WILL crave and look for it!

What Adrien has been doing up to now IS normal for a teenager - humans NEED affection, belonging and safety. What ISNT/SHOULDN’T be normal is Adriens disconnection towards his father in the portrait and just how much Gabriel fails to take care and BE THERE for his son in BOTH TIMES!

Collector:

Bother Christmas:

One thing I like about the show is that it portrays their young main cast with one very important truth: The psyche of a child/teenager of their age will react and adapt so it SURVIVES, even if it results in unfortunate consequences in other relationships and places. Thats the psyches main concern and it'll try to cope with the limited experience and development it has in whatever way necessary to get itself to the next day. A coping mechanism is not there to make you a better person, it ensures your SURVIVAL, everything else is a secondary concern.

So seeing pre-show Adrien not react to Gabriels touch and even feel completely unloved and disconnected from him is no surprise to me. Kids are incredibly observant. They may lack the needed experience and knowledge to truly understand that they deserve better and to stand up for themselves but they are masters in picking up red flags in people and can put this danger into perspective while comparing the different danger levels of their options of people and places to adjust their behavior.

Feast:

Stormy Weather 2:

So the broken connection between father and son we see in the portrait (that Gabriel doesn't even notice but Adrien fully internalized) isn’t there because Adrien “didnt needed” or wanted his father, its because Adrien NEEDED Gabriel so much in his isolated upbringing but Gabriel didn’t LET him need him - so Adrien had to adjust to that accordingly. Big, huge, ENORMOUS difference.

Honestly the most miraculous thing about Miraculous is that Adrien was able to bring up the strength to stay positive and friendly and to forgive Gabriel in hope for a better future. That boys situation is 7 kinds of depressing and traumatizing...

It's just flabbergasting to me how well this portrait shows how basically non-existent their relationship was at that point. And it's horrible to know that this estranged and unformed bond is all Adrien had left after Emilie dissappeared, just alot worse because after Emilie incident Adrien states that his father changed alot for the worse as well.

So to think that all Adrien had left wasn't even this former basically non-existent relationship with his aloof father - who would only barely show his true affection for his son because he's either not around enough to do so or he thinks it "unnecessary to proof his affection" for/to Adrien because he already thinks it so obvious and undoubtable.

Well he thought wrong. And GOSH, it breaks my heart!

So now comparing the "Gabriel" hand from Adrien with the one representing his connections with his mother conveys a pretty harsh contrast.

Because last but not least, let's take a look at Emilies hand placements:

But here is now an interesting difference to Adrien. Whereas we openly see that Adriens side of the Adrien-Gabriel relationship is completely disconnected from the heart/love - showcasing just how badly Adrien has always been neglected by his father - we don't see Emilies hand in her Emilie-Gabriel relationship AT ALL.

Once again just like with Adrien, this doesn't mean she didn't love her husband and that Gabriel was used and fooled by the woman he so utterly adored. It just means that from Emilies point of view things were a bit more complicated. What exactly this is, the portrait is keeping secret from us. We have no way of knowing if and how Emilie is returning her husbands gesture. All we can say is that if she does she is definitely not doing it in such an open and unconflicted way as she does with Adrien.

But since when has anything with this family been this easy?

One thing the portrait makes very clear, Adrien and Emilie had a strong and good bond. Definitely the healthiest because the Adrien-Emilie connection is the only one depicted without any kind of disruption from both sides. Both mother and son are reaching out for the other ones hand creating a whole half of the heart, showcasing their affection for another openly and without any of the implied doubts the other connections display. And honestly? Comparing all the hand placements, the one connecting Adrien and Emilie just comes across as strikingly pure and true (which makes it even worse that it was HER Adrien lost…)

As I said it's a HARSH contrast to the one Adrien shears with Gabriel. This contrast is highlighted even further by the way these three face on another.

Emilie and Adrien are positioned facing another and so are Emilie and Gabriel. Telling us that Emilie was "face-to-face" aka involved with both her husband and son. It is Adrien and Gabriel were this looks wildly different. These two have no way of seeing each other in the eyes the way they stand now/then, further displaying their deeply rooted disconnection. It's portrays perfectly how important Emilie was in this family dynamic, because even though Adrien and Gabriel bearly had a connection at all they at least had Emilie as a link between them, keeping the family together. But then they lost her and where this left both father and son off we know oh too well...

So to collect all the informations we get out if this portrait:

-Adriens and Emilies relationship was the strongest and purest. Both of their hands connect and reach out for another in the heart, showcasing that they had a loving and positive bond.

-Adriens and Gabriels relationship is heavily scarred by a deeply rooted disconnection leaving Adrien feeling unloved and unwanted by his father to the point where Adriens side of their dynamic is outside the heart altogether. Gabriel may love and adore his son just like he loves his wife and never thought he displayed his love for him in a lacking way, but fact is: this love never reached Adrien the way it should have and Adrien is the one in their dynamic who got severely hurt and damaged by it.

-Gabriel was the only one completely unconflicted and happily at peace with the former Family situation. He's reaching out to both his family members with open love and affection in blissful oblivion that neither his wife nor son could return them the same way (to different degrees for different reasons). Gabriel was the ONLY ONE in the Agreste family who didn't saw problems in their lives and thought them all happy, hence why he's so obsessed with changing the past and bringing THIS state of their family back. He was happy and he had everything he needed and loved right with him, of course he wants THIS back. He's not aware that Emilie and ESPECIALLY Adrien did not feel the same about their former situation and that bringing all of them back to this is not the perfect happy ending for their entire family as he thinks.

-Emilie may not have been as unconflicted with Gabriel as he was with her but she is NOT feeling the same disconnection her son feels and isn't depicted with negative feelings towards Gabriel. Her side in the Emilie-Gabriel relationship is neither shown outright positive as with her son or outright bad as Adrien with Gabriel. Her side of their bond is depicted through her unseen hand placement in the unknown area in between.

-Despite their not so unconflicted feelings towards Gabriel - and Gabriel himself being aloof - neither Emilie nor Adrien are actively trying to cut Gabriel out. They aren't flinching away from his touch or exclude him from the heart whatsoever. He's happily included, obviously feeling loved. They may not be 100% happy and Gabriel doesn't notice it, but they aren't denying him his happiness and make him unhappy. Again, he's the only one truly happy here. Something neither Emilie nor Adrien tried to take away from him.

-Emilie and Adrien are facing each other as do Emilie and Gabriel, implying the presence of communication and a bond. Adrien and Gabriel do not face each other, showing their disconnected bond. If they could see each others face Adrien would have been able to see that Gabriels hand is a gesture of genuine affection and Gabriel could see that Adriens expression does not exactly display pure happiness the way he thinks. This also goes for Emilie. Emilie just like her husband is placed BEHIND her son, so even if she is facing him she would not be able to really see just how much Adrien is not satisfied and truly happy with his life at that point (meaning how unhappy being looked up, friendless and at distance with his father actually makes him).

- This fascinating family makes me sad and I like it lol

[imkylotrash]

Hi, could you write this idea: fairy! student!reader x Saul Silva. She's close to graduation and have this big exams going on, do she couldn't spend so much time with Saul and for like a week or so was sleeping in her own room. The thing is, Saul got so used to sleeping with her by his side that now he can't get back to the way the things used to be like and all the nightmares she kept away came back. Therefore he didn't sleep well and reader finally notices

This is so cute. I could totally see this happen 🥺💛

It’s almost midnight before you realise what time it is. You have four messages from Saul asking if you’ll be coming over this evening and you hate that you once again will have to disappoint him. But you can’t slack on your studying so close to finals. You text him to let him know that you just finished and you’ll be staying in your own room. He sends back a red heart which makes you feel like crying. He’s being more than understanding but you just want to fall asleep next to him. 

You see him the next day at dinner time and it’s the first time, you notice just how tired he looks, There are bags under his eyes that weren’t there a week ago and you can tell even from a distance that he’s struggling to focus on his conversation with Sky. You mean to spend the night with him but once again you realise too late that it’s much too late for you to join him and you tell yourself he’s probably already sleeping considering the fact that you haven’t gotten any texts this evening. But when you see him the next day, you know he hasn’t gotten any sleep. He looks awful and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault somehow. 

I’ll be over around eight. You send the text before heading to class and today you keep your promise. You’re standing in front of his door at eight sharp waiting for him to let you in. 

“Hey,” he murmurs hugging you briefly. Something is completely off in the way he’s acting and you’re going to get to the bottom of it. 

“Hi baby,” you reply stroking his cheek. The poor thing looks absolutely exhausted. 

“Are you okay?” you ask worried about him. He offers a smile but it never reaches his eyes. 

“I’m just tired. That’s all.” You don’t buy it. 

“Is it the nightmares?” you ask softly hoping he won’t brush them off as nothing. When you first got together, he used to have the most horrible nightmares about when his father was attacked by the Burned One. He’d wake up yelling and bathed in sweat and you’d have to calm him down. The past few weeks, he’d been sleeping peacefully and you just about started to have a normal sleep schedule yourself now that you didn’t have to stay up and be ready when the nightmare came. You thought he didn’t have them anymore but apparently, they’d made a comeback. 

“It’s fine. I want you focused on school. Don’t worry.” He doesn’t meet your eyes which tells you more than anything he said could ever do. 

“Fine. I’m exhausted anyway, so I’d rather go to sleep.” He knows what you’re doing but he lets you. He’s too tired to fight you on it. You wrap your arms around him allowing him the rare pleasure of being little spoon. You like to reserve it for times like these. 

“Goodnight,” you whisper kissing his shoulder. It takes him minutes to fall asleep. You, on the other hand, remain awake wanting to be prepared in case he has another nightmare. Around four in the morning, you fall asleep satisfied that he hasn’t had any bad dreams. But he wakes you up far too soon. 

“We both have classes in about an hour.” He looks a lot better after a full night of sleep but you keep quiet not wanting to push him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to tell you himself. 

“Did you sleep at all?” he asks concerned and you can’t help but laugh at the irony. He’s worried about you missing one night’s sleep when he hasn’t slept in days. 

“I wasn’t really that tired,” you say knowing he’ll blame himself for keeping you up otherwise. 

“You stayed up in case I had a nightmare.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. He knows that’s what you did and he hates it. Your first fight was him telling you not to worry and you insisting that you did worry. 

“I just wanted to make sure. You need sleep.” 

“I don’t have them when you’re sleeping next to me.” He says it so quietly you’re not sure you heard him correctly. He repeats it a little louder and you never want to leave his side again. 

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” You get out of bed and wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t like talking about his father in detail but you have no doubt that what happened that day still haunts him no matter if he’s sleeping or awake. You never spend a night apart after that, and you never wake up to his screams again. 

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Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

[schrijverr]

Hold Me Together

Chapter 1 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's self-esteem issues, minor injuries.

~~~~~~~

Take My Hand

Eliot wouldn't even classify himself as badly hurt per se. He was mostly just bruised up with a dislocated shoulder, a slight stab wound and the only thing that made him this unstable was the damaged ankle and the fact that he’d been fighting out in the rain and was completely soaked to the bone.

He knew better than to lie to himself about it, but he would be just fine on his own to take of it, before crashing into his hotel bed and sleeping the horrible day off and ride back home the next day in Lucille. Now only if Hardison and Parker believed that too.

The two of them had been keeping an eye on them ever since he had let out a slightly pained grunt over the coms, after his ankle had been kicked.

They were hovering over him as he came limping back after a con well done. The asshole had been charged with tax fraud and they could be on their way, but neither Hardison nor Parker had relaxed, both wearing a pinched face when they saw the bruises on his. For gods sake, Hardison had tried to give him a hand into the van.

However, during the ride to the hotel the adrenaline had worn off and his ankle throbbed and the hand he was pressing against his stab wound was getting soaked, he would need stitches. His shoulder also ached, but he wasn’t about to pop it back under the watchful gazes of the others.

When Lucille stopped in front of the hotel, the last thing he wanted to do, was get up.

He was shivering and he ached. He knew the gazes of everyone were on him, but he didn’t care, all he wanted was a warm bed and dry clothes.

He laser-focused on getting up from his seat, not caring about the slight hiss, before he set the first step to the door. The moment he put any weight on his ankle, he buckled and the only reason he didn’t end up on his face was Hardison, who had been hovering, jumping in to save him, making him hiss again as he caught him on the stab wound.

Hardison steadied him before pulling his hand away for a second and paling at the blood, before squeaking: “What the hell, man! Why didn’t you tell us you were bleeding?”

Eliot tried to remember why, while his brain focused on how nice it was to have Hardison’s large hand splayed over his side and wrapped around his waist. He leaned into the other to stay upright, faintly remembering that he shouldn’t. He straightened up and blinked as he mumbled: “Have stuff for stitches in my room.”

“It needs stitches?” Hardison exclaimed. “And you didn’t tell us? We could have at least bandaged it for you until we got here.”

“‘sfine, Hardison,” he frowned, suddenly remembering why he hadn’t told them. “I can manage fine, jus’ need to get to my room.”

“You- you- The man just needs to get to his room,” Hardison guffawed. “What are you going to do there, Eliot? Bleed to death? Or would you rather freeze? You’re still drenched and cold as fuck, man.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eliot protested, ignoring that he was shivering slightly.

“That makes it worse, I hope you realize that,” Hardison told him, which he had not. Having the other there as a crutch was already more comfort than he was used to and it was messing with his brain in a way an adrenaline-crash wouldn't. The warmth from Hardison made his head fuzzy and he hated how it made him feel vulnerable when there was still so much he needed to do.

Ashe busied himself withthinking about how he needed to get away from Hardison, while also not wanting to let go, he missed how Hardison and Parker shared a look, making a decision.

Parker turned to Sophie and Nate, who had been waiting under an umbrella until the others could join them in going inside. “We’ll take care of him, you two go ahead.”

The words unlocked something in his chest and the fuzziness cleared up. He shouldn’t be cared for, he was the caretaker. He was the one, who made sure everyone else was okay and the job was not done, not until they were all safely piled into Lucille on the highway far from here. Only then he could rest.

Not now.

He needed to be away from here, letting people close was dangerous and he could already feel his control slipping. He leaned more weight back on his own feet, clenching his teeth at the pain, before he mentally made a plan.

No matter how hurt he was, he needed to be alone and deal with it before it would go back to normal. However, he wouldn't get to his room on his own and maybe if he gave Hardison the idea that he’d done something, he would let Eliot go.

“Are we standing here all night?” he asked. “I wanna get to my room. Come on.”

Both grinned happily at his allowance to help him and he tried to ignore the contraction his heart made when he realized he put that grin on their faces.

Parker took his hand on his non-dislocated side to support him when he stepped out of Lucille, while Hardison supported him around his waist, also avoiding his dislocated shoulder. It was a slow going with his ankle and one support place down, but they managed.

Crossing the parking lot was equally slow with Hardison steadyinghim as Parker held up an umbrella against the unending rain.

When they finally entered the elevator, Eliot had never been more glad to just stand. Even if his companions were glancing at him in concern. He just closed his eyes and tried to block them out, which was easier said then done with Hardison’s hand still on his waist, while Parker stood close enough that he could feel her breath.

He would have run, if he could, but instead he was stuck in the elevator with them as human crutches. He focused on all the pain and the cold in order to block out the warmth of them and how nice it was.

It shouldn’t be nice.

Eliot was used to worse than this and had toughed that out on his own. He was fine by himself and having others there was only a weakness. What if they thought him as incapable of taking care of himself and therefore of them? What if on the next job they wouldn't trust him in watching their backs? He couldn't risk that.

Still, the elevator had stopped and unless he wanted to be in unnecessary pain, he would need them to get to his room where the distances were more manageable for his mangled leg.

So he grudgingly allowed them to help him to his room, thinking he could shake them off there and crash in peace.

Alas no such luck was on his side and the universe turned against him as Hardison and Parker followed him into his room. He made a protesting noise, but before he could tell them to fuck off, Hardison said: “No, man, you look terrible right now, no offense. But I’m not leaving you here to pass out on the floor, okay.”

He turned to Parker for support, but she made a seriousface, before smiling: “I’ve been working on my first aid.”

“I can also manage my own stitches,” he still attempted. He couldn't risk them seeing him as weak, even if Hardison’s hand was still warm and Parker’s smile eased a bit of the ache in his bones. He just couldn't.

“Your hands are shaking from the cold and your eyes keep glazing over,” Parker observed quite bluntly.

And he hadn’t even realized he was fazing out to avoid the pain, also avoiding any potential threats around him. He cursed and blinked, hissing when all the aches came back. He now remembered that Parker had said something and he should probably react. “I’m fine, alright. I’ll take a warm shower.”

With the pain buzzing in his head, it was harder to argue and he was tired. He wanted to get them out of his room, but neither looked willing to go, so he would need to be more stubborn than them to get them to leave.

Hardison was the first to realize Eliot was going to be stubborn about this, so he let him go, making Eliot sway as he nearly toppled over before catching himself with a groan. Hardison crossed his arms and said: “Alright, if you can walk to your bathroom, we’ll leave, otherwise you let us help you.”

Eliot looked at the bathroom, which was on the other side of his bed. A double bed, because Hardison craved luxury and projected that on everyone else. It was relatively far, but he could grit his teeth and get there.

The first step was hell. His ankle screamed at him and leaning any weight on it was a very bad idea, he would need to bandage it and cool it and rest for a few days. He definitely shouldn’t be walking on it. Still, he gritted his teeth like he promised himself and walked. He didn’t react, he had trained himself not to react and now that he was consciously thinking of not reacting, he could. Even if he wanted to scream in pain.

“Eliot, stop!” Parker exclaimed after three steps of agony. “You’re hurting yourself. If you keep going you’ll only injure yourself further. Who will protect us if you hurt yourself? Just let us help you.”

It spoke testaments to how far she’d gotten that she could figure out her feelings and verbalize them and Eliot would appreciate it more were he not still reeling from the pain.

When he had gotten reality back into focus, he thought about her words. He could allow himself a helping hand when it meant he would heal faster, because that was their reason. They didn’t want the guy having their back to be injured, especially with how fast Nate went from job to job, it would be bad.

His brain could allow that logic. It was business, no emotions and just ensuring their cons. It wasn’t twisty and complicated.

So, he nodded and smiled tiredly when Hardison exclaimed: “Oh thank god.”

They were at his side in moments, Hardison again wrapping his arm around his waist again while Parker fluttered around him to catch him should he collapse.

In the bathroom, they set him down on the toilet. Parker was at his side, asking him about how to treat his wounds. He replied: “It’s best if I do stitches before I shower and wrap it afterwards. I’ll do my shoulder myself now and my ankle just needs to be wrapped and cooled, maybe elevated while I sleep. It’s not that bad, Parker, promise.”

She studied his face for a moment, before nodding and asking: “You sure you don’t need help with your shoulder? And I can do the stitches.”

“Nah, I’d rather do the shoulder myself. But fineon the stitches,” he told her, he shouldn’t be doing stitches with his recently dislocated shoulder making him unsteady anyway. It had nothing to do with her hopeful face, not at all.

He braced himself, before he brought his hand down, letting out a long muffled groan as the shoulder popped loudly back into place.

“Oh man, that’s just wrong,” Hardison said at the noise. He had been following their movements from his place at the sink, still not all that well with injuries. “You okay, man?”

“I’m fine, Hardison. Dislocated shoulder is hardly the worst that happened to me,” he said, realizing he had already told them that and it hadn’t been received well. “Now if I can get stitched up you both can leave me in peace to shower.”

“We’re not leaving you here,” Hardison protested.

“What?”

“No, man, you’ll pass out or slip or something. I’m not leaving you here to accidentally hit your head and bleed out in the shower,” Hardison explained. “That’s undignified.”

“And you standing here isn’t undignified?” he shot back, hoping Hardison would leave, before the twisty feeling in his chest could take over.

“It isn’t,” Parker said, stuff for the stitches in hand. “Now, shirt off,” she ordered.

He hadn’t thought of that and braced himself as he took off his shirt. It was slightly awkward with his still sore shoulder, but he managed, even if he got slightly stuck at one point and someone tugged it the rest of the way. It was Hardison, he saw after, since he still had his wet shirt in his hands.

Without the shirt, the cool air reminded him how cold he was. He was even shivering, which was good, but also bad. He would need to hold still for the stitches, but he wasn’t hypothermic.

They didn’t have a local anesthetic, so he would have to tough it out anyway. Parker cleaned his wound as best she could with rubbing alcohol and water, before disinfecting the needles and setting to work.

Eliot focused on Hardison, forcing himself not to react to the needle sliding in and out of his flesh as he held still.

Hardison was also not looking at his wound, instead choosing to lay a hand on Eliot’s shoulder as if he was comforting him instead of the other way around. Still, it was a grounding touch to focus on and Eliot tried to ignore the weird flutters in his chest as he relaxed, sagging slightly against Hardison, who took that as an invitation to lay Eliot’s head against his stomach.

The gash at his side was more long than deep and it took a while before it was stitched up completely.

In that time, Eliot had allowed his mind to drift as his body became plaint against the warmth. It was only when Parker patted his leg lightly and told him she was all done that he blinked back into reality, immediately blushing as he realized how he had cozied up to Hardison in that time.

He quickly retreated and tried to play it off by examining his wound. It was neat stitch work and he smiled at Parker and said: “Looks good,” feeling warm when she returned the gesture. It would be a small addition to his scar collection and he was glad neither had said a word about it.

Meanwhile Hardison had walked to the shower and turned it on, playing with the heat until he was satisfied. Then he turned back and said: “You can’t sit in the shower, well you could on the floor, but that’s nasty. Think you can stand on your own?”

“Yeah, of course,” Eliot lied, hoping it would be true.

Now he just had to get his jeans off and get into the shower with Hardison’s help, which should be mortifying, but he was mostly scared of him and Parker leaving, despite how much he had wanted them to go moments before. Parker wasn’t much of the heavy lifting, but she hadn’t strayed from his side and he found he would be sad to see them go and have to tend to his wounds alone, even if that was the best course of action.

His silence had dragged on too long, because Parker asked him: “Do you need help with the pants?”

“What? No, I’m alright,” he said, unbuckling his belt, before realizing getting up on his own was a challenge. “Maybe a hand with getting up?” he admitted, hating that he had to ask for help and hoping he wouldn't find judgment in their eyes.

He didn’t find any, both were glad to lever him up, which was a two men job now that his body’s control had left him in place of tiredness.

Once standing, he found that getting his jeans off was harder than he assumed with how they wetly clung to his legs. He couldn't put any weight on his ankle, so he was standing lopsided, which pulled on his stitches.

After a moment or two, they took pity on him, with Hardison giving Parker a look, who then asked him if he needed any help. He wanted to deny it for a second, but he didn’t see himself getting out of his jeans alone and he reminded himself that it was just bad for business if he went down and then wondered why it made him flush when Parker shimmied him out of his jeans while Hardison held him up. He pushed the thought down.

The track to the shower was hell and Eliot couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this woozy, which was strange because he’d definitely gotten injured worse and it hadn’t had this effect on him. Of course beforehe hadn’t hadHardison and Parker to takecare of him.

It should worry him more how much he was giving in and how badly it messed with his head, but it was hard to think when there were hands guiding him, keeping him steady, making sure he wouldn't fall.

When the spray first hit him, it hurt and he hissed, nearly falling again, only just caught by the others. His skin tingled until it itched as he warmed up.

He hadn’t even realized he was still leaning against Hardison until he asked: “You good to shower on you own, man? Because I don’t mind holding you up, but I’m ditching my jeans and shirt then.”

“Wha?” he blinked, before he processed. “No, ‘m fine.”

“You know what, I don’t believe you,” Hardison said, then he turned to Parker and said: “Hold him for a moment.”

His large soft hands were replaced by Parker’s calloused and small ones. Her long sleeves got wet under the spray, but Eliot couldn't bring himself to apologize for it, just too exhausted to even think of moving as he wondered why he had ever thought it’d be a good idea to handle this on his own.

Soon Hardison joined him in the shower, wrapping his arms around him from behind and letting Eliot lean against him under the spray.

It was warm and comfortable and for a moment he could forget that he was injured and cold and barely warming up. He could forget that he was technically not safe yet and that the people in his shower, holding him up were his coworkers and nothing more. He could just let go and exist for a moment.

“Parker, can you sponge him down?” Hardison’s voice broke the spell. “Gently,” the hacker added in a warning voice.

He tried to protest that he could clean himself, thank you very much, but he tripped over his own tongue, which never happened, and before the words could be formed, Parker had already appeared in the shower sans shirt, armed with a sponge.

Contrary to his expectation, she was gentle and it somehow bothered him more than if she’d been rough for reasons he couldn't explain.

She worked him down methodically, but the sponge soothed his bruises and he got lost in the sensations of her scrubbing him down. He was in just his boxers and Hardison was too, while Parker was only wearing leggings and a sports bra. It should be weird, it should bother him that he wasn’t even fighting his closing eyes, nor fighting the fact that he was practically burrowing into Hardison, but it didn’t. He just felt content.

Still, even all that contentness couldn't make the pain go away completely. He was exhausted as were his muscles and they let him know along with his ankle and minor stab wound. It took him a moment to register the hurting as bad, then he said: “I need to sit,” and it was strange how easy admitting that came to him.

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Hardison said. “You still wanna wash the blood out of your hair? Because it’s fine where it is, but I can also imagine you wanna take care of your luscious locks.”

“There’s blood in my hair?” He must have been really out of it that he hadn’t noticed that, but he didn’t like the idea of that being there. He would probably be too exhausted to wash it out later, hell, he was too exhausted now, but blood in someone’s hair was a reason for suspicion and they weren’t home yet. So, he groaned, realizing he still had to do that with his hurt shoulder and tired arm, not to mention the stitches.

“Hey, you good?” Hardison asked at the groan.

He tiredly tried to explain, hoping it would come across. “‘S jus’ that blood in ur hair is susp’cious and my arms’re tired, but my hair nee’s to be clean and jus’,” he groaned again as he attempted to lift his hands to show them.

What he didn’t see was their concerned gazes at how out of it he was. Parker checked his eyes and he frowned at her. “Do you have a concussion?” she asked.

And that would make a lot of sense, if he had been hit in the head hard enough and he knewhe hadn’t been, so it couldn't be. So, maybe it was the blood loss? Or just the exhaustion. He had been awake for quite some time and taken a bunch of hits, but that was standard. Poison? No, not poison. Just- just tiredness, he supposed.

“No, ‘m fine, Parker,” he finally replied. “Jus’ ad’enaline crashin’,” yeah, that sounded about right, he could believe that.

“Does this always happen after a con?” Hardison asked, “I’m moving us to the floor, by the way, don’t mind me,” he added, indeed lowering Eliot until he was sitting on the shower floor between Hardison’s legs, despite the fact that it had been nasty earlier.

“Nah,” he assured them. “Mus’ve been more ti’ed than I thought.”

“That’s okay, that’s okay, we’ll get you sorted,” Hardison said, before turning his attention to Parker and asking: “Can you hand me that shower head.” a small pause, “Ah, thanks, baby.”

Eliot was confused about the interaction for a moment, then felt the spray in his hair, startling him slightly. Hardison shushed him, saying: “Can’t have a security risk,” and if Eliot was a bit clearer he would have caught the joking tone, but instead his brain went: ‘yeah, makes sense,’ and let it happen.

He heard Parker’s excited voice ask if she could do the soap and Hardison chuckle out a ‘course, mama,’ but nothing really registered.

At some level he knew it was slight dissociation, a trick he used more often than he’d like to admit to deal with going through the pain when something needed to be done, such as tending to the wounds, like now.

But, the pain wasn’t even that bad, and the care was much better than he was used to. He shouldn’t be distancing himself from the whole experience so much, still his mind was pushing him away from his body, while it relaxed in the hands of his coworkers.

His teammates.

His people.

He should really be getting back to his body, Hardison was shielding his eyes and the warm spray was running over his head. He focused on that, on the water running down his bare back, on Hardison still murmuring nonsense to him, on Parker poking his leg, not quite his ankle, but close enough to feel it. He kept his focus on the ankle.

In his mind he defended it by telling himself that he was just assessing the damage and that was why he was focusing on the ankle, because it would be bad for business if the team’s muscle couldn't walk. He didn’t tell himself the pain was more familiar and easier to cope with than the gentle touch.

Getting out of the shower was a different challenge and while Eliot was finally warm again, he still wasn’t much help and his muscled frame was heavy.

He got jostled around quite a bit and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from making any noise when he accidentally caught himself on his hurt ankle, but in the end he was standing and his stitches were still in tact. A victory in his books.

Parker was still mostly dry, so when Hardison was done maneuvering Eliot onto the toilet, he grabbed a towel for himself as well, throwing the other to Parker as he said: “I’m grabbing us some clothes and a bit of ice, alright, mama?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of him,” Parker assured him as he left. Then her focus was completely on Eliot, who still sat dazed on the toilet, slightly upset at the cooling water and cold air, but not enough to do something about it in his exhausted state.

Parker filled up his field of vision again, first patting down his face, then producing a tiny towel to wrap his hair in. She moved over his neck, down his back, doing his arms as she went. She took extra care around the stitches and Eliot felt overwhelmed.

The twisty feelings he’d been trying to push away came back. Parker was being gentle with him when there was no reason for it, Hardison was getting him ice and had sat on the nasty floor with him instead of leaving his hair uncomfortable and bloody.

They didn’t need to do any of that. They could just leave him to his own and he would have been fine. They hadn’t needed to jump in when they saw he could tough through it. So why were they still here? Why were they still being nice to him? And why did it hurt so much that they cared? He shouldn’t care so mu-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

He liked them, no, he loved them. They were so nice to him and part of his brain enjoyed the comfort so much that the survival part of his brain had jumped in to make his consciousness disappear, because it didn’t know how to cope with that.

Parker was still drying him and he should really push her off right about now, because this was way too intimate and she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend he also had feelings for, but he didn’t think that made the situation any better.

It didn’t seem Parker noticed his internal breakdown as she went down his legs, thankfully ignoring other areas luckily still covered by the boxers, even if he knew that wet as they were, they didn’t hide much.

Okay, back it up, Eliot, he told himself. What do we know?

He went over it in his head. He had wanted to push them away, he remembered that now and the twisty feelings he had also pushed away in order to see it as a business transaction, but Parker and Hardison had gone much further than a business transaction. And he’d liked that. That could be number two, he liked that they cared for him.

Was that just a touch starvation thing, he wondered. He examined it further, then came to the conclusion that it wasn’t, not entirely at least. Having the contact for contact’s sake was nice, but it was nothing compared to the women(and sometimes men) he had spend a night with. It felt like much more, just more. Intense.

So, it wasn’t just the touch, it was the fact that Hardison and Parker were the ones touching him. Fuck. They were dating each other, he shouldn’t be weird about it. They were good together and his feelings should not interfere with what they had.

How he hadn’t figured out he liked them before now, he didn’t know, because it washed over him in waves suddenly and he had a hard time getting it under control.

Of course, his mind had disassociated so badly during the time they showered him (which was another thing he had just let them do) just to avoid feeling things over them, so maybe that wasn’t entirely accurate. God, this was a fucking mess.

Semi-luckily for him, his life had been a series of messes and he knew how to deal with them: repress all feelings about it and move on without ever telling a soul.

He had only just decided on that course of action when Hardison returned to make it hard for him again. He’d only just gotten used to Parker’s gentle patting.

But Hardison had clothes and maybe getting covered a bit would be better. Of course, he still couldn't lift his arm properly and standing was out of the question, so this reverse-strip was about to become up close and personal. He would say he hated it, but that was a lie and he hated himself a bit for it.

Not that he had much time to think about it, since Hardison immediately began talking the moment he entered the bathroom. “I know your shoulder still hurts and I went through your stuff, but you only have shirts with you, so I got you one of my zip-up hoodies, because I’m amazing. I also have boxers here and I know that’s kinda weird that I went through your stuff and got you boxers, but mine wet were very uncomfortable and I didn’t want to subject you to that. Also I have sweatpants.”

“You went through my stuff?” he asked, finding the thing that was the most normal to comment on, hoping it would keep the whole thing normal.

“Yeah, man, I’m sorry, but we need to get you dressed and into a bed,” Hardison answered. “You looked like you were about to fall asleep standing earlier.”

And that was hard to deny and he felt a bit fuzzy when he imaged Hardison taking care to select one of his hoodies, just so that Eliot wouldn't have to lift his arm. He made a tired gesture, any fight he would have leaving his body, then he smiled: “It’s okay. ‘m pretty tired anyway.”

“Good, you need the rest,” Hardison nodded, before laying the clothes down and picking up the hoodie, holding it up with a question mark in his eyes.

Eliot nodded and the towel he’d had in his hair fell. He made a small noise, before admitting: “I’d forgotten that was there.”

“It looked funny,” Parker told him, before adding, “I’m glad you’re not slurring your words anymore. I was worried.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Eliot blushed, remembering his antics in the shower. He still felt near that person, but now that there was less pain and contact to distance himself from and he had more control over his emotions, he could once again regulate his speech.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” Hardison asked, easing his right and hurt shoulder into the hoodie while Eliot let out a measured breath at the stab of pain.

He remembered being in a daze, cuddling up to Hardison and letting Parker wash him gently with a sponge, despite the fact that they were together and he should stay far away from that. He remembered tripping over his words and needing to sit, while they washed his hair, because he couldn't. He remembered it being nice and he quickly put a lid on all of that.

“Did anything happen?” he finally shot back, deflecting, as he put his left arm into the other sleeve of Hardison’s hoodie. It hugged his arms tightly, since he was slightly more built than Hardison, but the sleeves were longer and fell over his hands.

“That’s a no, then okay,” Hardison nodded, “You need pants. Now, we tried letting you take of your own pants off and that didn’t work. So-”

“You’re not changing my fucking underwear, Hardison.” Eliot had to put a stop to that line of thinking ASAP. It was too close to things he wanted and he couldn't risk that.

“Why not?” Parker asked.

She was completely genuine and he could never not answer her. So, he started to stumble through a reply: “I’d be naked, Parker and you- you’re-I- it’s fucking embarrassing. I’m a grown man, I can change my own fucking clothes.”

It looked like Parker wanted to say something to that, but a look from Hardison cut her off. The man turned to Eliot and put his hands together as he did the point thing to Eliot, while he talked: “Okay, man, look I get it. This sucks for you right now and all that, but me and Parker care about you, right, and we are worried about you. So, neither of us want to really leave you here to hurt yourself. You get that?”

His brain had mostly stopped when Hardison told him they cared about him, static filling his head as alarms blared while other parts flashed with hidden meanings he shouldn’t seek. Faintly he was aware he should answer, so he mumbled: “Wha- yeah.”

Hardison rubbed his forehead and said: “See, this is what we’re talking about. Where did your mind run of to? Did you even hear what I said?”

“Partly. Man, get off my case, I’m trying, okay,” Eliot snapped, a bit harsher than he’d intended, but all the emotions were twisting up inside his chest and making it difficult for him to focus without spilling anything.

“Hey, don’t get grumpy at us for trying to help,” Hardison snapped back.

Something shriveled inside Eliot. He’d never wanted to make Hardison upset with him. He was just exhausted and slightly upset at the whole situation. He looked back to see why he had even agreed to them helping him. Their worried faces came to mind again and he felt a pang of guilt go through his chest.

“Come on, Eliot, say something, before you start shivering again,” Parker pleaded and when he looked down, his legs were covered with goosebumps.

“…Fine,” he gave in, “please be quick.”

“Alright, man!” And there was relief and pep in Hardison’s voice and the fact that he wasn’t angry anymore did more good to Eliot than any painkiller could have. “We’re gonna be quick and discreet. Parker’ll hold you up and I’ll change. Won’t peek, promise.”

“Just get it over with,” Eliot sighed as he was heaved to his feet, still unsteady, but now more due to the tiredness pulling at his limbs rather than the pain that still pulsed in the background.

As promised it was quick, didn’t mean it was any less awkward.

Parker kept him steady with her arms around his forearms, but he still couldn't put his weight on his left ankle. So when Hardison pulled his underwear down, he could step out of one of his leg-holes by himself and Parker had to shift to under his shoulder, before Hardison could exchange the wet underwear for a new one.

Still it could have been much worse and the clean, dryunderwear felt indeed much better. He was now sitting on a towel on the toilet, while Hardison knelt in front of him, bunching up the sweats so he could put his feet into it.

When it came to his injured ankle. He clenched his teeth, not managing to keep a groan in his throat. Under his breath, Hardison apologized softly.

Then Parker knelt down with bandages and set to work on his ankle, wrapping it. She had not been lying when she’d said she had worked on her first aid. The bandaging was secure, but not too tight and tied off neatly.

“Now I still need to do your side,” she said. “I wanted to wait until you were warmed up a bit. How are you feeling, still cold?”

“No, ‘m much better, Park,” he smiled at her and let her undo the zipper, before she bandaged his side as well.

He was then once again pulled to his feet and Hardison tugged his sweats the rest of the way, before he could think of bending down and doing it himself.

The track to the bed was slow, but less painful than last time. With his mind back in order a bit, it took effort to not sink into Hardison’s side or think too much about the hand on his waist and how careful he was with his shoulder. It was all so tender and Eliot needed it to stop before his brain could write all sorts of meanings about the gesture.

Parker had already pulled back the sheets on the bed and had put down a pillow for his foot. He smiled at her, but it turned into a wince once he sat down. He had enough strength left in him to lay down on his own, but the moment his head had hit the pillow the exhaustion slammed into him and he knew he would make a longer night than 90 minutes.

Small calloused hands lifted his ankle onto the pillow, before a towel-wrapped ice bag was dropped on it and a finger poked the ankle one last time. He didn’t have the energy to react to the poke and he felt lightly touched at the gesture, something he pushed down immediately.

He still felt as if there were a thousand things he had to do before he could rest. He hadn’t been able to check the parameter, or if his door had been locked, if Nate and Sophie were alright, where Parker and Hardison would be when he was asleep. Hell, he hadn’t even brushed his teeth.

Eliot contemplated getting back up for his teeth. He could check the other stuff while he was at it and dental hygiene was important.

Hardison would probably scoff at that and laugh with the way he only drank orange soda and other sugary stuff, but Eliot knew what dental infections could do at the wrong moment and most of his teeth were fake and had cost him a lot of money. He was very careful with his teeth.

Still, he found himself drifting off despite all that, faintly feeling his mattress dip under familiar weights.

~~

A/N:

How oblivious can this man get? And other questions about Eliot’s emotional state. Repression is one hell of a drug. But he figures it out, shout out to Eliot for sifting through his feelings like a somewhat functional person, what a lad. Even though his answer was in the end suppression, he tried.

I am also excited to announce that I’m making it both better and worse for him >:3

(don’t worry, he’s getting compensated with hugs, so he should be fine, mostly)

[wiltingofthewhitelily]

One Happy Family (FrUk/FACE Family)

A/N: Hey you guys! So this little piece was requested to me by someone on Wattpad. (Reminder that y'all can give me requests on here too if you want me to write something! The basic rules for requests are on my pinned introductory post.)

Ahhh, the FACE family. I haven't interacted much with them lately (or FrUk in general) to be completely honest :') But oh boy do I love 'em.

---

AU: None

---

A small boy with blond curls poked his head out from behind a bush. He wrinkled his nose, staring intently at something ahead of him. Or, at least, he had been. Where did it go? he thought to himself as he emerged completely out of the bush, quietly, turning his head a bit to look for the object in question.

Suddenly, a white bunny popped into view, making the boy gasp. There it is! He crept up to it, very softly, trying his best to be as still as possible. Then, the bunny began to clean itself, therefore was distracted, which gave the boy the opportunity to try to pet it.

Feeling the human contact, the bunny jumped a little in fright and scurried away.

The personification of Canada pouted his lower lip, and called out, "No! I just wanted to be your friend!" However, the bunny was already out of view.

Now grumpy, Canada sat down on the grass with his legs up to his chest, pressing his face against his knees.

He wasn't grumpy for a long time, however, because soon he heard a voice call his name, a voice he knew very well.

Canada lifted his head and smiled as he saw the person. "America!" But... "I thought you were out playing?"

That's when America's once-smiling face fell a little. "Yeah...I tried to play with the other kids, but they called me scary." His blue eyes were shining, and his voice quavered.

Canada gave a sympathetic sigh. It seemed to hurt America more when the human kids rejected him, seeing as he was the more extroverted of the two brothers. Canada actually preferred playing by himself—he could always find his own fun. But America needed others to play with. And surely just playing with his brother all the time got boring quickly.

That's when something behind America caught Canada's eye—back toward the large wooden house the two called home. In the distance, he saw a blond man. It wasn't England—this man's hair was far too long and wavy to be England's; his physique was too muscular and his clothes were too bright. Canada gasped in delight when he fully realized. "FRANCE!"

The little boy immediately ran up toward the man. France soon realized Canada was coming and a huge grin crossed his face, and he hunkered down to his knees, holding his arms out. Canada jumped into them, giving France a big bear hug. America followed close behind, mostly happy that his brother was so happy, and hugged France as well.

"Ah, my two little boys..." France sighed out happily, giving both America and Canada a peck on the cheek. Releasing them slowly from the hug, he rubbed and patted both of their backs. "Goodness, what has England been cooking for you? You two are growing like weeds!"

Canada chuckled quietly, covering his mouth with his hand, while America let out a big belly laugh.

That was when England came outside. "Oh, France...I see you've arrived."

France swooped up both the boys in his strong arms, causing them to squeal. He turned toward England and smirked. "I had to see my two boys, no?"

England frowned for a minute, but after looking at both America's and Canada's giggling faces he had to grow a small smile. "Fine, wanker. Come on in."

France let the two boys down; they raced into the house together, with England opening the door for all of them. "Oh, thank you!" France exclaimed once the door was opened for him. "I see you can be a gentleman sometimes."

England rolled his eyes as he shut the door, hard. "Don't get too used to it, frog." He then led France into his kitchen. "Now, do you want me to cook you som—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," France said at the mention of the word 'cook.' "Now, let's not get too hasty here. We're not exactly in a dire situation. No need for you to cook, Angleterre."

England's face immediately grew beet red. "M-My cooking's not that terrible!" he shouted defensively.

"Ah, I beg to disagree." France let out a little snort.

England growled. "Fine! Go in there and help yourself, then!" he retorted, motioning to the kitchen.

France brightened at the offer. "But of course!" He then looked toward the two boys. "Do you two want to taste some of Papa France's cooking?"

"YEAH!" the two cheered in unison.

France smiled widely. "Of course you do! Just sit and wait patiently at the table!"

The boys scrambled to do so. France looked over at England and gave him a smirk and a wink. England grumbled and rolled his eyes in response.

Soon enough, France was carrying in a huge steaming tray of something. England looked up from his newspaper, tilting his nose up as if to get a better smell. The scent of whatever France had cooked was absolutely divine.

...But it's not like he would admit that. "That smells horrible," he snapped instead. "What the hell have you cooked in my kitchen?"

France gasped as he set the tray down on the table, with America and Canada cheering (as they were both very hungry at this point). "Angleterre! I thought you knew better than to swear in front of the children!"

England sighed, put the newspaper down fully, and looked over at the two kids. "Mmm," he growled. "Okay. What the heck have you cooked in my kitchen?"

"Well, I turned that ghastly huge fish you bought into a beautiful fish dish. And I baked some potatoes to go along with it," France explained.

"You wanker!" England said. "I was going to use those things to make fish and chips!"

"And thank heavens you didn't." France sat down next to England and across from the kids. "Otherwise you would've stunk up the whole place, no?"

England thought he could just punch France in his handsome face at that very moment, but the boys had lifted their heads and were now watching with large curious eyes, so he couldn't really exactly do that. He just let out a small growl and then decided to push his mind into father mode. "Well, boys, would you like to try what France prepared?"

"Yeah!" Canada exclaimed excitedly, already holding up a fork and a knife.

America, however, rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah...I guess."

France furrowed his brows. "Ah, America, what's the matter?"

America dropped his hand from his neck, but still kept the same solemn look on his face. "Well, I kinda wanted England's fish and chips," he explained sadly.

France smiled and chuckled in response, leaning forward to ruffle the American boy's hair. "Silly, this will taste much better than England's food! I promise."

America sneered a little, but said, "Mm...okay."

The four began to eat, with Canada scarfing his meal down and America picking through it tentatively. England tried to eat it slowly, but...he had to admit, it was really bloody good. He got done with it quicker than he'd expected and polished his plate.

France didn't ignore this, however. "Hmm...seems Angleterre did enjoy my food after all."

England looked over at France and smacked him on the shoulder. "Shut up, frog. I was hungry, that's all."

The Frenchman let out a low, rumbling chuckle, and leaned over to rub England's shoulder. "Mm, yes, that was it..."

England pouted and crossed his arms, looking away from the blond beside him.

"Angleterre, you got some crumbs on your mouth," France then said suddenly. "Let me get them off for you..." He leaned over and, to England's shock, tried to kiss the crumbs from his lips.

"FROG! Get the bloody hell away from me!" the Brit screeched as he tried to fight him off.

From across the table, America and Canada looked over at their two father figures fighting, with wide, curious eyes, their forks in their chubby hands. England and France had a...well, let's just say strange relationship, that the two small boys couldn't quite grasp the complexity of yet—one moment it seemed like they hated it other, and the next they were laughing and hugging. It was all very confusing, especially for young kids such as themselves.

America, however, began to giggle one he saw them messing with each other (and after realizing it was playful, and not serious). He jumped out of his seat and ran over to England (who was still being teased by France), wrapping his small arms around him. "You and Papa France are funny, England!"

France had to let out a laugh at that. "Are we?" America nodded in response.

Canada suddenly felt a little lonely sitting by himself. He didn't like to feel lonely, so he ran over to France and threw his own arms around his neck, burying his face in it. "I love you, Papa."

France's heart was warmed at that. His little Canada's voice sounded so sweet, so sincere. He patted the boy's arms. "Ah, I love you too, my Canada." He smiled over at America too, who was now perched in England's lap. "And I love you, America. Are you two happy you got to see me today?"

"Yeah!" Canada exclaimed, bouncing up at down, while America just smiled and nodded as he snuggled further into England's arms.

"Good," France said, letting out a big breath of air, "because I'm happy I could see you two too."

England looked over and managed to flash a small grin at France. The Frenchman, though a bit surprised at England's sudden cheery nature (though half of it was probably due to the fact that his beloved little colony, America, was sitting with him), smiled back.

It wasn't very often that the four could come together and just act like a normal family, but it was safe to say that the times that they could were very much cherished. For better or for worse, they were certainly one happy family.

---

A/N: Yeahhh ik, it's not that good ;-; I hope you guys at least partially enjoyed though, and have a wonderful day!

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Chapter 13

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: I finished this weeks ago and then took forever to do my final edit! Which may suck, but I think the wait is worth it. I’m hoping to write much more in the new year! :) Please let me know what you think.

(masterlist)

It was another mundane and busy week until anything eventful occurred.

Although, there were still highlights to your week, particularly the lunch periods.

On Monday, you ate with Ashido, Kirishima, and the rest of that small group of friends you were becoming more acquainted with. News of Ashido and Kirishima’s relationship spread quickly as they sat together before class started and were giggling messes for much of the day. Therefore, the couple decided to sit next to each other during lunch instead of in the usual seating order. Because of the seating change, you were now positioned next to Bakugou who kept rather quiet except for the few times he nudged you to laugh at how idiotic the couple was being.

Tuesday was rather similar, except now Kaminari and Sero were pretending to be a couple in order to mock Ashido and Kirishima. They comically fed each other lunch, called each other disgustingly sweet pet names, and even pretended to kiss a few times. You, out of everyone there, found this the funniest. You could not help but laugh loudly at their antics while Ashido and Kirishima swayed between being upset, bashful, and laughing along. Bakugou had a small smile planted on his lips throughout the lunch, but did not bark out a laugh once.

On Wednesday, Ashido practically ruined your plans by telling you that she was eating with just Kirishima that day. You had been so excited to sit with Bakugou once more that you weren’t quite sure what to do. After some debate, you ended up sitting with the rest of the Class 1-A girls. They spent most of the lunch talking about school, which wasn’t horrible, but they were much less humorous than the ridiculous and rambunctious boys you had been sitting with.

On Thursday, you once again sat with the girls. However, Uraraka was missing today and was replaced by an Ashido who could not stop staring at Kirishima. Despite ogling him during lunch, she firmly believed in spending time with other people and taking things slow. This resulted in her promising one day for “just us girls!” As the two lovesick puppies continued to shift in their seats to get a look at the other.  You even found yourself preemptively looking towards the table of boys to catch Kirishima’s glances. It seemed Bakugou had the same idea because you made eye contact with him almost as much as Kirishima and Ashido had.

When Friday rolled around, you were fairly tired. School picked up quickly and you were still working on catching up from the weeks you missed. With little sleep, you trudged to the table with Ashido and Kirishima and allowed anyone but you to carry on a conversation. Luckily, that was easy for the group sitting with you.

Although you weren’t quite sure what was happening, you were fairly certain Ashido and Kaminari were rallying a humorous bit about Aizawa and another hero. Something about jokes? Or somebody with a lot of jokes?

However, the happy atmosphere changed quickly as Mineta approached you all with a sick smirk plastered on his face.

Despite Kaminari and Sero being friendly with Mineta in their first year, and not outright hating him now, they knew better than to welcome him with open arms to a table with two girls, the chivalrous Kirishima, and a short-tempered Bakugou. With this in mind, they stayed quiet as the purple-headed boy arrived at their table and gained everyone’s attention.

“Can we help you?” Kirishima asked politely. He cautiously wrapped his arm around Ashido, very aware that Mineta could be more vulgar than the average person.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your relationship,” He began, surprising all of you.

Even you turned to look at him out of surprise. The action wasn’t too difficult because he was positioned between you and Bakugou who sat at the head of the table. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him begin to speak once more.

“I have to say I’m pretty jealous you get to tap that pink a��“

“Oh my god,” Ashido’s voice covered up his last word and you all looked at him in mal contempt and utter disgust.

Anger immediately flooded through your veins and you almost threw yourself away to distance yourself from Mineta as much as possible. Furthermore, despite your tired mind, you had been wanting to destress for hours, and you swiftly placed your hand on the short boy’s shoulder as you saw the opportunity arise. Although it pained you to even touch him, you craved to let your aggressions go much more than your craved distance.

You smirked as his emotions ran through you. With as much control as you could muster, you did not allow his perverse feelings overcome you and instead focused on his insecurities.

“Pretty big words from someone who wouldn’t even be a hero if it wasn’t for your grape-filled brain,” You said, letting your aggression take over your conscious. “I wouldn’t make comments like that knowing full well all of us here could kick your ass. You don’t even fit well into our class when your quirk is easily outdone by Sero and your smarts are far from the best in the class.” Every word your spoke spit the venom of a snake, but you couldn’t stop yourself from letting though go into the loud cafeteria.

“Holy shit,” You heard Kaminari chuckle out of pure surprise once you finished ridiculing Mineta.

You removed your hand from his shoulder and stared at him with a sickly evil smirk, practically begging the purple pile of garbage to try and retort to much too real claims.

“Scram,” A deep voice beside you spoke up.

You looked over to Bakugou and saw as much anger in his eyes as you were sure were in yours. However, you were quite sure yours were now being replaced with confusion.

Mineta fled with his theoretical tail between his legs. You didn’t have to remove your earbuds to know he was regretting ever coming to this table.

Good, you thought as you watched him leave.

Once he was a good distance away, you turned back to your groups of friends who stared at you in shock.

“Damn, L/N-san,” Sero commented, very purposefully using formal language around you.

“Your tongue is as sharp as Bakugou’s,” Kirishima added while Ashido ran around to give you a hug for defending her.

“Thank you,” She whispered in your ear, her tone happier than you would expect at this time.

You nervously chuckled and scratched the back of your head, not expecting them to be so accepting of your angry side. It really only ever come out during a fight or when someone was particularly pissing you off.

“Yeah,” Bakugou quietly added. You looked over to him as he continued to speak, “It was,” A pregnant pause filled the table, “Cool.” Despite him still looking dissatisfied with his choice of words, you didn’t push for him to clarify.

“Thanks,” You replied, a gentle smile stretched across your hot cheeks. His own cheeks tinged a hue of pink you saw rarely and you knew that this moment was special. You didn’t want to rush to conclusions because assumptions were never ideal, but you hoped Bakugou actually liked seeing your quick wit come out.

The bell rang, signaling that your session of lunch was coming to a close and you had 5 minutes to get to your next class. You grabbed your small dessert before tossing the rest of your lunch. While Bakugou, Ashido, and Kaminari departed in a separate direction for the class with your mom, you gingerly walked with Sero and Kirishima back to the 2-A classroom.

The two boys continued to compliment you as you walked into class on your impressive words.

“If it was anyone else, I would be nervous to say this,” Kirishima spoke, “But Mineta is so crude that he kind of deserves it. Especially considering what he was saying about Ashido.”

You smiled at Kirishima, who currently had pink spreading across his face. “I’m sure you would have stepped in if I hadn’t,” You added, knowing full well that Kirishima was very polite.

The conversation continued until you arrived at your class. Sero moved to his seat while you and Kirishima walked together to the back to sit in your seats one behind the other.

When Monday had come, Aizawa still hadn’t prepared anything for the class to do, but today he came prepared.

With a pop quiz.

Everyone in the class groaned as he insisted it would give you all a better chance than the other students on the next exam.

By the time you got out of class, you were sure Ashido, Kaminari, and Bakugou were still with your mom.

Despite knowing full well that you should head over to your mom’s house and feed your cat, you were also very tempted to sit in on the class. Or at least see Bakugou again.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, something that had become more and more common, at the thought of seeing him. You felt like such a fool with your ridiculous crush, but you couldn’t help how excited you got at the idea of seeing him.

Additionally, today’s class was supposed to be her day with every year rather than just one. The large crowd would mean she wasn’t as intense and detailed. Finally, you decided to use a simple excuse of a question to have a reason to go and see your friends.

Primarily Bakugou, you admitted to yourself as you trekked the halls to the large gymnasium.

Despite his previous comments, Bakugou’s temperament towards your mother’s class had gone down by Monday when she was able to talk to him more one on one about manipulating his explosions and how it matched with her fire manipulation.

Having sat in on your own siblings' training sessions multiple times, you knew the speech about fire, or explosions in Bakugou’s case, not being able to provide nearly as much defense as offense.

Ashido had recanted to you that Bakugou spent most of the day trying to use his explosions to block attacks from whatever partner he was with instead of using his explosions to attack them.

You were glad they were getting along with each other, but you want for them to get along together also scared you to death.

Is me wanting them to get along too much? You questioned, trying to be conscious of how quickly your feelings were getting the best of you.

Reluctantly, you attempted to swallow your nerves and went to grab the door handle of the gym.

Since your mother would be talking to all her students as opposed to just one years’ worth, you knew you would have quite the audience as you opened the loud door to the gym. That could be positive and negative.

As you predicted, a plethora of eyes moved from your mother to look at you as you bashfully came in. They were currently sitting on the ground as your mother talked to them about who knows what.

Immediately your eyes found Bakugou’s sharp vermillion eyes. You felt your face flush as his piercing gaze stared back at your shamelessly. It was almost intense enough for you to look down and run out of the gym.

However, before you had a chance, your mother whipped around and smiled at you as she noticed herself lose everyone’s attention.

“Ah!” She cheerfully exclaimed as you tentatively approached her and stood in front of more than fifty students.

You couldn’t help but watch Bakugou as his eyes brazenly traveled up and down your body as you approached the group of students. The smirk on his lips was a bold reminder that he was much more confident than you.

“Everyone,” Your mom spoke and she turned to face the crowd, “This is my daughter, Y/N!”

Although you knew what type of situation you put yourself in, you still nervously waved at the class before leaning into your mom. “Sorry, I just needed to ask you something.”

“We’ll be right back,” She told the class. Gently, she grabbed your elbow and pulled you away so the students couldn’t hear you. “Yeah?” She asked.

Although you appreciated her moving you both out of earshot, you were intending to talk to her in English, which many of the students knew very little of considering it was your first language and most likely their second.

“I was just about to head over to feed Cody and remembered you being a little low on food on Wednesday. Do you want me to pick up more?” You asked.

“Oh, yes! That would be perfect!” She exclaimed, “Thank you for remembering.”

“Okay, cool, see you la—”

“Come talk to the class before you go!” Your mother excitedly said as she pulled you back to the students, clearly wanting to show off one of her 5 prodigies.

Although she was strict when it came to training and held standards for you that were much different from her siblings, you were still her pride and joy. She acted so childishly when not focused on work, and it almost felt like Ashido was the one dragging you to do something you didn’t want to do.

“Tell them about how I am as a teacher,” She said in Japanese so the class could understand.

You sighed before looking to the students and trying to find the best words. Although there were many people in the audience you knew, you only kept your eyes on Bakugou as you spoke. Having my mom as your teacher can help you so much, so pay attention, you thought to yourself before speaking. “She is a hard-ass. She knows your potential and knows you can do better than you think. She is kind to you, but when you slack off, she gets more serious than you will ever see. Take this class seriously.” You paused for a moment before adding. “My mom trained all four of my older siblings. She is the number 1 hero in America, and they are all in the top 20 and climbing. You are lucky to have her help.”

Your tone was serious, but your mother’s kind smile was what made the situation scariest. She didn’t even correct you or criticize her for calling her a hard-ass. Many students had shocked faces with only a few exceptions for the students you knew would take her seriously and use her skill before she left.

“Thank you so much for stopping by,” Your mother spoke before turning to only address you. “This class is almost done, but I have a meeting, so I won’t be home by the time you feed Cody.”

You promptly nodded before turning to leave. You were too nervous to spare a glance at your friends, but you heard Ashido and Kaminari say goodbye as you opened to gymnasium door.

You used the small walk to the local pet store and then to your mother’s house as an opportunity to be with yourself. You thought over your week and what you needed to do. From homework, you needed to catch up on, personal training, and your hero costume, your life was fairly busy.

Additionally, the back of your mind prodded you with questions about Bakugou.

Did it seem weird that you stopped by your mom’s class?

Is it obvious you like him more than others?

You shouldn’t even be thinking about romance when you have to focus on your career!!

You knew full well that you had leaps to take in order to be an excelling hero. You knew it was more important to force yourself to actually train and practice than to worry about little friendships and romances. However, you felt tired.

You tried to calm yourself down by reminding yourself that you just moved to a new country and started school in a whole new place.

This school is made to help me train and get better, at least I have that if I am not doing much extra outside of class.

By the time you arrived at your mom’s house and were done feeding Cody, your feet, and brain ached. You spent the next half an hour on the couch with your cat by your side, lackadaisically petting him while scrolling through your phone.

Once your feet were no longer crying for a break, you made your way back home. The sun was still up, the warm sun shining perfectly on the concrete. It was just now entering the end of May and many bushes and trees were lush with green leaves and various vibrant other colors. The temperature was nice and tepid, making the walk home very comfortable because of the occasional breeze.

By the time you were home, the sun was just beginning to set. You quietly took off your shoes and greeted the few students downstairs.

“Ah, L/N-san,” Iida began once he saw you. He, Asui, and Tokoyami were currently stationed in the kitchen. “I know you aren’t used to the normal schedule yet, but we usually eat dinner around 6. Everyone takes turns cooking.”

You nodded while walking up to them. They were currently cooking up a pasta dish and the smell was making your stomach ache.

“Once you feel comfortable, we would love to add you to the list,” Iida continued.

Although a little tired, you still smiled at the trio, “I would love to. Is there a spreadsheet or list? I really only know American dishes so…” You trailed off at the end of your sentence. You enjoyed cooking, but you hardly knew how to make true Japanese dishes.

“Of course,” Asui began. She pulled out her phone to show you. “Each day has certain people with the dishes already listed. The school provides us with some money for food and different people go shopping each Saturday. It is usually the girls though, ribbit,” She explained.

Your eyes glazed over this month’s sheet. Each person appeared a few times with the respective dishes also listed.

“Who makes these?” You asked.

“Momo does,” Iida quickly replied while he drained a large pot of pasta.

You nodded, debating what would be your best action. “I’ll talk to Momo some time about getting put onto the schedule.”

The three classmates nodded and thanked you for understanding.

You sheepishly waved them off, telling them you were happy to help. You finally made your way upstairs with a small snack in hand. You were quite hungry at this point and hoped it would help satiate you until the food was ready in an hour.

You immediately plopped down on your bed and pulled out your phone once upstairs.

I can do homework after dinner, you told yourself as you scrolled through social media.

However, before you had a chance to really relax, you heard 3 rapid knocks against your wooden door. Quizzically, you stood up from your bed, debating who could be knocking in such a short, yet recognizable way.

Unsurprisingly, Bakugou was the person on the other side.

I should have known, you told yourself as you took in his outfit. He wasn’t too sweaty, but it was clear he has been active for at least the past hour. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a basic t-shirt.

“Can I help you?” You inquired. It seemed he rushed over to talk to you, making you wonder by he couldn’t wait.

“I want to fight,” He bluntly explained.

“Okay, um,” You mumbled, “I am pretty good right now. Can I take a rain check?” You retorted. You definitely were not ready for a challenge.

The blond rolled his eyes as you and sighed, “Dummy. I don’t mean right now.” His voice was harsh and it made you want to laugh at his reaction to your reply.

Your mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape and Bakugou leaned up against the door.

“Are you gonna invite me in?” He asked. The pout on his lips was rather cute, but you tried to stay focused on what he was saying.

“Do you even want to come in?” You pushed.

Bakugou scrunched up his nose at your sarcastic comment and leaned up to stand tall against you. “It would be rude not to. We have to plan when we are going to train together.”

“Ah,” You mumbled.

You moved aside to let Bakugou in. When he came in, you finally noticed the water in his hand and the way his eyes scanned over your room carefully.

“I didn’t realize you meant training,” You explained as you quietly closed your bedroom door.

No matter how calm you tried to stay it was rather difficult to do so when he was looking over everything you had.

He turned to look at you. “Are you dumb?” He judged, “Do you need coffee or something?”

You waived him off and grabbed your laptop, not feeling the need to keep this small spat going. You gestured for him to sit at your desk chair while you perched onto your own bed.

“Do you know your schedule?” You asked him as you pulled up the calendar app on your laptop.

“Yeah,” He began while taking a seat at your small desk chair. He slouched over in the chair and gave off a very nonchalant vibe.

You wondered for a moment what kind of vibe you gave off.

“I am free on Wednesday and Sunday,” He explained.

You nodded and looked through your schedule. You didn’t really have anything that couldn’t be moved considering you had only been living in Japan for a few weeks now. Silently, you wished your schedule would pick up more. You noticed most of your classmates were gone a few times throughout the week for their internship.

You bit your lip, debating your schedule before mumbling out, “Do you cook dinner at all?”

Bakugou stared at your quizzically, your eyes glued to your laptop screen. “Huh?” He replied, his voice louder than intended. He honestly wasn’t even sure if you knew you asked that question.

You looked up from him and immediately felt nerves wash over your body. “I’m just curious because Iida was talking to me about adding myself to that schedule. I was wondering if you did in the case that would mess up our training. Or, like, also because I know you go to your internship a lot and wanted to make sure I didn’t take up too much of your time. Sorry, I didn’t m—”

“You talk too much,” Bakugou interrupted.

You abruptly stopped talking. You stared at Bakugou, not quite sure what to say.

Is he even going to answer my question, you debated as you watched him.

“I do,” He finally added. “On Mondays.”

You nodded your head and simply looked back to your computer. You gulped down the lump in your throat before mumbling out a small and meek, “Cool.” Your eyes gloss over your computer once more despite already having your schedule memorized. “Wednesday and Sunday work for me too.”

Bakugou stood up from the chair. “Good,” He replied, before making his way to the door.

“Wait!” You exclaimed just before he opened the door.

He turned to look at you, his features were curious as to what else you could add.

“What time are we going to meet up?” You asked. “And where?” You added. A small pause, “And what are we going to do?”

“Geez, you have so many questions,” Bakugou groaned, he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. You found your eyes scanning over his slightly damp hair. It was still standing at attention and looked incredibly fluffy.

You didn’t react at all and simply gestured for him to keep talking.

“We can meet this Sunday at three in the afternoon. Just meet me downstairs and I’ll walk us to the Cityscape I end up renting out.” He paused and looked you over. “We are going to fight.”

You let his words wash over your and you simply nodded, giving him his cue to leave. When the door finally shut and Bakugou was gone, you sighed.

You definitely needed combat training but were not excited to face the fiery hothead again. You were absolutely sure he held a grudge and would put his all into beating you.

Reluctantly, you jotted down the time in your calendar and made notes for all following Wednesdays and Sundays to close off at least part of the day to training. You weren’t sure how long this would last considering you would rather face a wide variety of people a few times than consistently work with only one person. However, you were sure it would at least last a few sessions and that you would both surely help each other get better.

~~

After dinner, which was quite delicious and filling, you stopped Momo to tell her you wanted to sign up for dinner duty.

Delighted, the hero in-training took you to her room where her computer was and showed you the schedule.

Each day was color-coded. In the description were the people cooking and the type of cuisine they would make.

“Most days are balanced with good cooks and not as great cooks,” She explained. “We keep the cuisines here for variety, but the groups have to choose 2 weeks ahead of schedule what they will be making. That way we can buy them with enough time.”

Your eyes glossed over the screen and looked at the various cuisines. Most were nights were dedicated to Japanese food except Friday, which was dedicated to pasta, Tuesday, which was dedicated to American food, and Wednesday, which was dedicated to Chinese food.

“The groups can also change the cuisine if they want,” She added after seeing you intensely scanning the days.

“Yeah,” You mumbled out. “I’m just not sure if I should go with the cuisines that would be easier for me like Tuesday or Friday. It might be nice to work on the Japanese days because I would be learning.”

Momo nodded understandably. “I’m sure everyone would be happy to work with you. I would note though that every day except Monday has 3 people. You would even out that group if you chose to and learn Japanese cuisine.”

That was Bakugou’s day, you immediately noted.

You looked at the calendar schedule and saw that he was also set to be cooking with Sero on those days.

You hummed while debating your options. “Could I try out Mondays? Maybe if I don’t like it I could move the day?”

Momo eagerly nodded. “Of course!” She moved her computer closer to you and put your name in the schedule. “Do you have their numbers?”

“Just Bakugou’s,” You quickly replied.

Momo nodded and pulled out her own phone. “Let me give you Sero’s so you can make a group chat.”

Once the kind girl gave you his number, you tentatively put him into your phone and made a group chat with the three of you. “Thank you, Momo,” You spoke while standing up to bow.

Yaoyorozu bashfully replied with a “You’re welcome.”

After a brief goodbye, you left her room and made your way back to your own. Homework… you mumbled over and over in your head as if it would make you more likely to actually get things done.

Once in your room, you posted up at your desk, laptop in front of you. However, instead of doing anything important, you stared at the blank, black screen.

After debating your actions for a few minutes, you grabbed your phone from your pocket and unlocked it.

The group chat stared back at you as you thought about what to say. You knew it was important to start the conversation, but you had no idea how to. You bit your lips and tried to calm your nerves, knowing full well that there was no reason to be anxious. However, you still felt your nerves crawl up your spine.

After way too long, you finally typed out a small message.

Hey, this is Y/N! Momo had me join you both for dinner night on Mondays. Hope that’s okay and please let me know how to help!

You immediately put your phone on silent and tossed it onto your bed, telling yourself that you needed to focus on homework.

You opened your laptop up and grabbed your notebook and pen.

You sighed before beginning an assignment. You just needed to finish it tonight so you would have time to work on your hero costume tomorrow.

[kpop-zone]

[Hogwarts AU] Red Velvet reaction to their s/o using dark magic to defend them

Irene

“I’ve heard her parents are death eaters.”

“They probably fought with Voldemort.”

“They are said to have killed countless muggles.”

When you walked up to your girlfriend and heard the evil words that were being hissed behind her back, you could feel an untamable hatred starting to bubble inside of you. The entire student body was lowkey intimidated by Joohyun for various reasons. Some were jealous because her beauty could force whole countries to their knees. Some were in awe because no one mastered spells quicker than her. And others were scared because of her seemingly cold aura. No one was willing to admit that though. Instead, it was so much easier to talk viciously about her behind her back in order to feel powerful. Joohyun always told you that she wasn’t bothered by that, but you could see how her beautiful eyes always got a little sadder whenever someone spread another ridiculous rumor about her. You loathed every single one of those cowards. Therefore, you sat down next to Joohyun while flashing the students behind her a death glare.

“Don’t pay attention to them.”

Your girlfriend smiled sadly and you nodded in response, although your anger forbade you to follow her demand.

“Do you think she killed some too?

“She’s definitely capable...”

Enough was enough. You weren’t going to listen to those jackasses a second longer.

Slowly, you pulled out your wand and aimed at the group of students behind you.

“Mucus as nauseam.”

You whispered with a smug smirk on your lips before letting your wand disappear in your pocket again.

“What?”

Joohyun asked confused and you quickly shook your head.

“Nothing, I was just talking to myself.”

You answered quickly and your girlfriend looked at you in confusion before returning her attention to her homework again.

Her quiet study session was interrupted though, when the students behind you suddenly started sniffling violently before eventually breaking out into fits of sneezes and coughs. Sneeringly, you laughed to yourself until you turned your head and found your girlfriend staring at you angrily.

“Did you hex them?”

Joohyun asked in disbelief and you chuckled nervously.

“Hm? What? No of course not.”

You lied, but the death glare of your girlfriend was telling you that she didn’t believe a single word.

“What? They deserved it.”

You justified yourself and Joohyun huffed while running her hand through her hair in frustration.

“I can’t believe that you would do something like that, Y/N. I’ve told you to stay out of this.”

She whispered in order to not let anyone hear your conversation, but her tone wasn’t any less intimidating.

“Have you thought about how that makes me look? Everyone will think that I hexed them; playing right into the hands of those idiots.”

You gasped in shock when you realized that Joohyun was right and you let your head hang in shame. When you felt fingers intertwining with yours though, you dared to look up.

“I appreciate that you are looking out for me. There are better ways than dark magic though, ok?”

Her voice was soft again and you nodded without hesitation, causing her to smile.

“Ok, then let’s get out of here before we get caught.”

Seulgi

“Sangsik, stop! Please give me back my wand.”

You could already hear your girlfriend’s voice from a distance and your blood immediately began to boil. You didn’t need to see the scenario in order to exactly know was going on. Sangsik, star chaser of Gryffindor’s quidditch team and a world-class A-hole, had made it his job to tease your girlfriend at any given opportunity and you were tired of it. You got it; she was the perfect victim. She couldn’t stay mad at anyone for longer than two seconds and violence was not even a word in her vocabulary. But Sangsik hadn’t taken you into account in his calculation. You wouldn’t let him make fun of your girlfriend.

Furiously, you pulled out your wand as you rounded the corner, just in time to see Sangsik flying in circles on his broom in the courtyard, parading the stolen wand for everyone to see. Seulgi was standing there helplessly while some other Gryffindors laughed at her maliciously.

No more.

“Relashio!”

You yelled as soon as you stepped into the courtyard, aiming your wand at Sangsik who only had time to look at you with a dumb expression on his face before his hands magically let go of his broom, causing him to fall off. With a dull thud he landed on the ground and the laughter and excited chatter around him ceased. With fire burning in your eyes, you stormed up to him and ripped Seulgi’s wand out of his pocket.

“If you only come near my girlfriend one more time, I will repeat this spell when you’re 70 feet over the Quidditch field.”

Your threat was only for Sangsik to hear and his eyes widened in fear. Satisfied with this effect, you turned on your heel and walked to your girlfriend.

“Come on, jagi.”

You said softly and Seulgi followed you wordlessly.

At first, you didn’t think much of your girlfriend’s silence, but when you were almost at the Hufflepuff common room, you were starting to get nervous. Had you scared her with your anger?

“Really warm today...”

You chuckled nervously in order to break the silence, while tugging on the collar of your uniform. Instead of joining in your small talk, however, Seulgi abruptly came to a halt. Confused you followed her example and turned around to look at her.

“You know, I can defend myself. I’m not the idiotic Hufflepuff that everyone thinks I am.”

She huffed frustrated, causing your eyes to widen. You hadn’t intended to hurt her with your action. Before you could explain yourself though, your girlfriend piped up again.

“I especially don’t need you to defend me with such horrible spells. Dark magic? I really can’t believe that you would ever stoop so low, Y/N.”

This was the first time that you had Seulgi ever seen so angry and you gulped nervously.

“I-I don’t think that you’re an idiot. I just wanted to- Seulgi wait!“

Before you could finish your sentence, she stormed off and disappeared behind a painting into the Hufflepuff common room. A feeling of shame and regret caused tears to pool in your eyes and you stared blankly ahead.

You had really messed up this time.

Seungwan

“They really let anyone into Hogwarts these days... who’s next, muggles?”

When you heard Jooeun’s malicious words, you needed to bite your tongue in order to stop yourself from yelling profanities at her. You knew exactly that she had said it loud enough for your girlfriend to hear who she hated with every cell in her body. Jooeun was born into a “pure-blood” family, how they liked to call themselves, and she despised everyone that was of muggle descent. Therefore, she loved to bully your girlfriend.

Like in every class, she sat in the last row with her gang of puppets and gossiped viciously about everyone who was “unworthy” in her eyes. But you knew that it was useless to start a fight with Jooeun. It was impossible to change the mind of such people.

“Come on, let’s sit further in the front.”

Gently you guided your girlfriend through the classroom in hopes that you couldn’t hear Jooeun and her gang all the way in the front row. But unfortunately, your hopes were crushed when you heard her say a word that immediately caused you to burst in anger.

“Mudblood.”

It was the last thing that you perceived clearly before absolutely going blank.

You heard yourself yelling, “Oppugno!”, while pointing your wand at your pencil case before swinging it towards Jooeun. A second later pure chaos broke loose as all of your pencils developed a life of their own and shot in your target’s direction. Jooeun could only do as much as throw her arms in front of her face in order to block the pencils. She yelled at you to stop, but you wanted to make her pay. Only when you could feel Seungwan pushing down your arm, you ripped out of your trance and looked around in shock. Jooeun had several little bleeding wounds in her face and on her arms and the rest of the students were staring at you in shock. Helplessly, you turned around to Seungwan who grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the classroom.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?? Do you know what McGonogall will do with you if she finds out about this? Oh my god, do you know what Jooeun’s parents will do with you?? You could be expelled!”

Seungwan’s voice was trembling in anger and fear as she pulled you through the empty hallways to your dormitory. She kept ranting on about how incredibly dumb your action had been and by the time the two of you reached your room, you were feeling nauseous.

“You can’t change someone like Jooeun! When will you finally accept that? And where did you even learn this really impressive, I mean, unacceptable spell?!”

When you met the eyes of your girlfriend for the first time after fleeing the classroom, you could see that she was upset, worried, but also...curious. You didn’t know anyone who was smarter or more gifted than Seungwan. She had mastered every spell in your schoolbooks and you were sure that she was secretly intrigued by the mysterious spell that you had used. Learning was her passion and it was clear that she would sooner or later outgrow the methods that were taught at Hogwarts. For now, however, she strictly abided by the rules of the school and her anger definitely overweighed her curiosity.

Therefore, you hung your head in shame as your girlfriend continued to scold you some more while already making plans on how to save you from a school exclusion.

Joy

“Come on, drink something with me.”

Sooyoung huffed in annoyance when Joonghoo suddenly appeared next to her again and breathed his smell of alcohol into her face.

“For the last time, leave me alone!”

She basically yelled at him by now, because she just couldn’t stand having the hands of this douchebag all over her anymore. He was in love with her since the first year and just didn’t accept a no for an answer. He didn’t even care that she was dating you. Whenever he had the chance, he still tried to woo her; which was especially annoying when he was drunk like right now.

“Come oooon, just give me a chance. You won’t regret it.”

He slurred before gripping her hips and pulling her against his body. Sooyoung gasped in shock and was about to slap him when a loud voice made her flinch.

“Sooyoung, get back!”

She immediately recognized your voice and complied to your wish. With a hefty push, she disconnected her body from Joonghoo’s and jumped back, just in time to hear a spell rolling off your tongue that was unknown to her.

“Confringo!”

You yelled loudly, causing the bottles and glasses on the counter next to Joonghoo to explode. With wide eyes, Sooyoung looked at him, noticing that he was suddenly clutching his arm while his face was contorted in pain. Completely dumbfounded, Sooyoung averted her gaze from him to look at you and saw how you storming up to him with big steps.

“If you don’t keep your disgusting hands from my girlfriend, I will aim at your head the next time!”

You snarled and for once, Joonghoo didn’t have a cocky reply in store, but chose to nod wordlessly instead. Satisfied with his response, you let him be and turned to Sooyoung instead.

“Let’s get out of here?”

You asked and she quickly followed you as you left the pub without paying attention to all the people that were staring at you.

The anger was still written all over your face when the two of you walked back to the school and Sooyoung was still at a loss for words. She knew that that hadn’t been a spell from your school books. It was way too powerful and it did definitely not serve defensive purposes. It must have been dark magic. Sooyoung felt flattered that you had protected her and was also impressed that you had managed to master such a spell. But at the same time, the thought of you using dark magic made her feel nervous. It was too easy to get seduced by the wrong powers as a sorcerer and she didn’t want to be the reason for you to get into trouble. Therefore, she decided that she needed to talk with you about what had happened.

Nonchalantly, she interlinked your arms in order to catch your attention and cleared her throat.

“Y/N...”

She said hesitantly, not knowing how to address the matter without offending you.

“I know. I know that I shouldn’t use dark magic. But seeing him all over you had just made me so angry.”

You cut her short, already knowing what she had wanted to say.

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate you defending me. Because I do. Maybe Joonghoo needed something like this to finally get the hint. I just want you to be careful, ok? Dark magic is not something that should be used carelessly.”

Sooyoung said softly and smiled at you to show you that she wasn’t mad at you. You nodded in agreement before averting your gaze from her again. Using this chance, Sooyoung quickly pressed a kiss on your cheek to break the awkward tension, causing you to giggle happily.

There was no need to dramatize this incident as long as you knew where your limits were.

Yeri

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here...”

Yeri whispered and clung to your arm even tighter.

The finals were inching closer and closer and by now, all of the students were basically studying 24/7. As a Gryffindor, she didn’t really appreciate that, so you had suggested to sneak out tonight and do something thrilling in order to get out of your heads for a while. At first, Yeri was totally hooked by that idea, but now that you were standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by trees that looked like they were alive and hearing all sorts of weird noises, she began regretting her decision.

“Yeah maybe we should have just explored the dungeon or mixed up all the trophies to annoy Filch.”

You admitted sheepishly while looking around in fear.

“Let’s go back?”

Yeri asked and you agreed without hesitation.

With big steps, the two of you hurried back to the castle, but before you could escape the thick forest, a loud cracking sound caused Yeri to flinch.

“What was that?”

She squealed panicked and you held her hand tighter.

“Nothing! Let’s just keep walking.”

You answered breathlessly, but Yeri knew that you were just lying to calm her down. Your clammy hand was giving away that you had heard the noise too.

The two of you picked up your pace even more, but it seemed like whatever was making the noise did too. The cracking sounds got louder and louder and eventually Yeri could see a movement in the corner of her eyes. Reluctantly, she turned her head, gasping in shock when she was able to make out the dark silhouette between the trees.

“RUN!!”

She yelled, not wanting to get eaten by the gigantic spider that was running towards the two of you in lightning speed. Without talking back, you began running at full speed through the thicket that was making your flight exponentially more difficult. Yeri tried to lift her feet high enough to prevent stumbling over one of the thousands of roots that were sticking out of the ground. But unfortunately, she was running too fast to really have control over were her feet were landing. She could already see the castle between the trees in front of her when she stepped on something uneven, feeling how her ankle gave in. With a loud thud, she fell down and winced in pain as her face collided with the ground. Yeri couldn’t care less about her injuries though as she heard the trampling of eight disgusting legs directly behind her.

That was it. This was how she would die.

She closed her eyes, prepared to be perforated by the fangs of the giant spider any second now. But instead of feeling unspeakable pain shooting through her body, she suddenly heard you yelling something.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Your echo jumped from one tree to the other before complete silence surrounded the two of you.

Confused, Yeri opened her eyes and saw that the spider was motionlessly laying next to her. She was completely speechless and stared at the monster in trance until you pulled her to her legs.

“Come on!! This won’t last long.”

You tugged on Yeri’s arm and she followed you obediently, not wanting to fear for her life a second time tonight.

As soon as the two of you stumbled out of the forest, you fell to the ground with all of your limbs stretched out and your chest heaving violently. Yeri, on the other hand, was still staring at you in awe. She knew that you were an excellent sorcerer because of the classes that you had together, but seeing you using dark magic was even more impressive.

“Can you teach me?”

Yeri blurted out and you looked at her in confusion.

“Can you teach me the spells that they don’t teach at school? I also want to be able to defend myself from creatures like that.”

She explained, causing you to look at her contemplatively before shrugging.

“Sure.”

You answered nonchalantly before leaping to your feet and taking her hand again.

A wide smile spread on Yeri’s face and she started to ramble excitedly as the two of you walked back to the castle after deciding that you had caused enough trouble for the night.

She couldn’t even wait to finally become the outstanding witch that she always knew that she could be.

[fire-emblem-heroes-supports]

Reyson/Seteth C-A Support

Written by @sharyrazade

A/n: Possible content warning for Reyson’s backstory, but at this point in time, it’s probably not necessary.

C SUPPORT

[Seteth is taking a walk along one of the paths in the castle when he notices a man’s voice vocalizing- save for being a man’s voice, he’s sure he’s heard this exact melody before]

Seteth: [surprised] That’s not possible- can it be-?

[Seteth turns a corner to see that it is in fact, a man’s voice]

Seteth: Excuse me. Might I trouble you with a question, young man?

Reyson: [finally notices Seteth’s presence] Oh, my apologies! I did not notice you there! One might say my people are rather…musically inclined and just as inclined to lose ourselves in song. What did you need, sir?

Seteth: Your vocalizing- I am certain that I have heard that precise melody before, but cannot put a name to it.

Reyson: That is not surprising. You…are not from Tellius, are you?

Seteth: That is correct. And it therefore irks me a great deal that I cannot place the melody- I have heard my…sister vocalize that very one many times before.

Reyson: [expression perks up] I suppose it is not uncommon to have a sister skilled at singing, but to have one from another world be such- with galdrar, no less? Will wonders never cease? Might I ask your name, sir?

Seteth: You may call me Seteth.

Reyson: I am Reyson, third prince of Serenes. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Seteth: I should say the same, Reyson.

[Reyson and Seteth have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

[Amid a noticeable commotion in the distance of Anna and the Summoner yelling at several none-too-happy heroes, Reyson storms away from the great hall out into the gardens in a rage, wings singed and sporting a number of bruises.]

Seteth: [shocked] My goodness! Are you alright, Reyson?! What happened?!

Reyson: [seething] Truthfully, I’m not certain myself. One moment there was calm, the next Elincia had tackled this other beorc woman and began pummeling her before Lethe joined in. Soren, Mordecai and some of the others pulled them apart, but needless to say, they had…some more words.

Seteth: Oh, dear.

[Reyson looks down in anger and shame]

Reyson: Then, the other beorc woman began to taunt Elincia about her father and the “subhumans” and I…I must have just taken leave of my senses- I started raining blows on the white-haired beorc woman from behind. The next thing I remember, I was on the floor being choked and beaten by this gaunt, waxy, corpse-like man before Tibarn clawed him in the face to free me.

Seteth: [surprised] That’s what that horrible commotion was about? I suppose I should have expected something was amiss when Anna seemed genuinely angry and unwilling to speak casually.

Reyson: Yes. It was not one of my…prouder moments, to say the least. My brother certainly gave me an earful about how my conduct was “unbecoming,” but he was not there- he did not have to listen to that vile beorc woman with the white hair goading Elincia about us “subhumans.”

Seteth: [shuts his eyes in contemplation] I see. Even so, that is a dreadful thing to call someone. It is little surprise that one would react badly to being called such.

Reyson: [knuckles clenching] Even so, knowing how arrogant that these humans can be knowing- forgive me, I have said too much.

[Reyson abruptly leaves]

Seteth: What in the world was that about?

[Still cooling off, Reyson storms into the gardens and runs into Leanne as he turns into a hedge maze.]

Reyson: [surprised] Oh, Leanne! Fancy seeing you here.

Leanne: [concerned expression] (Of course I’m here, Brother!  Naesala went off to see what that horrible disturbance in the dining hall was and still hasn’t returned. I was worried about you!)

Reyson: Really, it was nothing to be concerned about. A beorc acquaintance of mine prevented me from getting into any more trouble.

Leanne: [confused] (The man in green? With green hair?)

Reyson: Yes, him.

Leanne: (Brother, has living with Tibarn and the hawks for so long dulled your senses too? That man isn’t a beorc!)

Reyson: [even more surprised] Truly?!

Leanne: (Yes. Rafiel says the gentleman reminds him of Kurthnaga more than anyone else.)

Reyson: You managed to pull him away from Queen Naliah’s bed long enough to get that out of him? Hmm, that could explain why he kept calling me “young man,” after all…

[Reyson and Seteth have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

[Just outside of the library, Seteth is conversing with Tibarn, looking both concerned and rather contrite.]

Seteth: [nods] I see. This was an enlightening- and sobering- conversation.

Tibarn: You’ve probably already noticed, but Reyson’s disposition…isn’t exactly common among Herons.

Seteth: [closes his eyes briefly] I cannot honestly fault him for it, truth be told.

Tibarn: Well, I’ll not pry, as it’s none of my business. Just take care when discussing these matters with Reyson. He’s rather- er- animated, as you know. Perhaps too much so for his own good.

Seteth: Understood.

[Seteth emerges into the garden and wanders a bit before running into Reyson, somewhat more composed than their last conversation.]

Reyson: [Still somewhat subdued] Ah, Seteth. I apologize for how abruptly our conversation ended. It was rather rude of me. And of course, how I came to insult what I assumed to be your people.

Seteth: [crosses his arms] I assure you, there’s no need for you to concern yourself with offense on my behalf- or on behalf of “my” people, I assure you.

Reyson: [inhales] I suppose I owe you an explanation for my rudeness, after all.

Seteth: If you feel it necessary, I’ll not stop you.

Reyson: As you may have gathered, my country, Serenes, is not…in the best of ways. I won’t bore you with the minutiae of how exactly it happened, but the people of Bengion somehow got it into their heads that my people were responsible for the assassination of the previous apostle, Misaha.

Seteth: [nods] And this was false, as your people do not fight.

Reyson: [slightly surprised at him having this knowledge] Precisely. Outraged, the people of descended upon Serenes with their torches and pitchforks and- all of them. Not just the men, but the women and the children too! After three days, my father, my sisters, my brother and myself…we were the only survivors.

Seteth: [visibly taken aback by the detail into which he goes] Goddess, that is ghastly!

Reyson: Tibarn and the hawks took father and I in afterwards, but my brother had been missing for sometime and we had assumed my sisters had both perished- been murdered with the rest of our clan.

Seteth: I…apologize, Reyson. That must have been torturous for you.

Reyson: Oh, it was, I assure you. In Phoenicis, I did not merely envy the hawks for their vitality and strength, but…I hated myself. For being so powerless to do anything to protect my people when they most needed me most. I have no intention of justifying it, but to explain my behavior; that beorc woman with the arrogant voice and hateful eyes must have just sent me back to that first night.

Seteth: [shuts eyes in contemplation] I see. Do you hate them, these beorc?

Reyson: There was a time when I would have answered “yes,” with no hesitation whatsoever. However-

Seteth: However?

Reyson: In the course of my journeys, I met many wonderful beorc. Misaha’s successor literally knelt before my sister and I to beg forgiveness and another exposed and personally ended the life of the man- one of Bengion’s senators- responsible for my clan’s slaughter, even after I spurned his earlier attempts to aid me. But even still…there will always be a part of me that hates them, yes. If you think less of me for it, I’ll not blame you.

Seteth: [rubs his chin] Why would I think less of you? I should think that is only natural that you would have some ill-feeling towards them.

Reyson: You have my thanks for your understanding, my friend. But I will battle these feelings of hatred for them for the rest of my very long life. A fact that sits poorly with me for one reason; a promise I made to someone very important to me.

Seteth: A promise? What sort of promise?

Reyson: To my sister, Leanne. Now we treasure her, but it cannot be denied that she is a little…childish and somewhat naive. When we reunited, she told me that she could not bear to see me with this sort of hatred inside of me and that I should accept the Apostle’s apology. I…did not handle that especially well either, but I did give her my solemn word that I would at least make an effort.

Seteth: [closes his eyes as he reminisces] I understand that very well also, Reyson. Yes, we are quite alike, indeed. But may I offer one bit of advice?

Reyson: Hm? Of course.

Seteth: I assure you, I also struggled and do struggle greatly with the dictates of my instinct towards survival and the protection of those closest to me versus my conscious intellect and moral code. However, for ages- ever since my wife’s passing- I wrestled with these dilemmas nearly in solitude. I…have very few people in whom I can truly confide. That is one way in which we differ, Reyson.

Reyson: What way would that be?

Seteth: From what you have told me, you have, both here and in your own world, a great many friends who would move heaven and earth for you. Be they from your race or not.

Reyson: That is true, I suppose.

Seteth: Indeed. You are a fine young man with loyal, devoted friends, Reyson. Do not hesitate to share your burdens with them when they weigh too heavily on your shoulders. Know that I will, as long as I am here, be one of those in whom you can confide as well.

Reyson: ...I will do that. Thank you, my friend.

[Reyson and Seteth have reached support rank A.]

[dccomicsimagines]

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Five

Part One  Part Two   Part Three  Part Four   Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten  Part Eleven

Requested by Anon -  I suppose you won’t continue What’s Lost Is Found. BUT I WANT YOU TO, I WANT TO SEE HOW EVERYTHING EVOLVES. I LIVE THE SERIE OMG

Requested by Anon -  Hi! I love your work so much! Could you please do a part 5 to What’s Lost is Found? It’s my favorite series.

***

You were sitting on the couch, writing a essay for school. Dick was in the kitchen, pacing around as he talked on the phone. He had been talking on the phone a lot lately. You were suspicious at first until you realized he had to be talking to a lover or someone like that, because he wouldn’t talk to anyone else in that tone.

“I miss you too.” Dick’s voice was soft. You wrinkled your nose, slightly disgusted with the idea he had a lover. “No, I think we can try it. I’ll bring it up tonight and get a feel for it.” There was a pause. “Yes, I love you too. Bye, honey.” He blew a kiss into the phone.

You held back a gag. When did he get this lover? Who is it? Your eyes widened when you realized that he might have had this lover over at the house while you were asleep and you felt even more disgusted. Of course, your father had romantic partners too, but he was always discrete with them. You never saw them. Dick, on the other hand, was not as discrete.

“Hey kiddo, what are you working on?” Dick asked, coming to sit down next to you. He had a bounce in his step and a stupid grin on his face. Whoever he was talking to must be putting out a lot. A shiver ran down your spine in horror. What if his lover was your guidance counselor or one of your teachers? 

“Homework,” you coughed, reassuring yourself that it couldn’t be one of your teachers since you were sure you would noticed a change in the way they treated you. You relaxed slightly.

“That’s good.” He reached over to ruffle your hair. You snorted at the touch. “So I was wondering how you would feel about lunch and a movie this weekend?” You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Like I have a choice?” Your voice had a little bit of an edge. You hated when he tiptoed around the subject. Why couldn’t he just come out and say what he wanted? 

Dick flinched at your tone. He gave you the ‘you’re being so mean when I’m being nice’ face. “Of course, you have a choice. Why would I ask if you didn’t?” 

You pursed your lips, keeping your eyes on your laptop. “What’s the catch?”

“Well, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Dick smirked. He kept watching you.

You held up a hand, glaring at him. “If this someone is one of my teachers or that ditsy guidance counselor, I will kill you.” 

Dick was taken back, eyes widening. “It’s not someone from your school, I promise.” He frowned. “Did you know I was seeing someone?” 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s obvious. You aren’t that good at keeping secrets.” Dick’s hand came over to run his fingers through your hair. 

“I should have figured.” Dick smiled with a glint of pride in his eye. You bit your lip to hold back a smile. “So I assume that’s a yes?” 

A sigh escaped you. “Fine.” You focused back on your homework only to suddenly have your face pressed into Dick’s chest when he trapped you in a hug. 

“Thanks kiddo.” He kissed the top of your head, tightening his arms around you. “I love you so much.” You sighed, wondering who the mystery lover would be.

***

Saturday came fast and you found yourself standing outside of a restaurant with Dick, waiting for his lover to show up. “You’ve met them before if I remember correctly,” Dick said with his hands in his pockets. “Back when I took over for your father.” 

You hummed, mentally eliminating a few suspects. It had to be someone he knew from before then, not someone he just met. You crossed your arms, glancing inside the restaurant.  

Dick wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Thanks for coming, kiddo.” 

You nodded. A flash of orange skin and red hair caught the corner of your eye. You turned, feeling dumb for not realizing who Dick’s lover would be.

“Kori,” Dick said, leaving you to go hug Koriand'r aka Starfire. You did remember her if only for her orange skin. It fascinated you as a kid. To be honest, it still did. 

“Dick, it’s so good to see you,” Kori laughed. They kissed passionately on the lips. You looked away. The blood rushed to your face when you saw people from the restaurant staring at them. 

They pulled away from each other, both smiling like idiots. Your stomach twisted when they turned their attention to you. “Kori, you remember (Y/N),” Dick said, clapping a hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes, (Y/N).” Kori smiled brightly. You had to admit you were surprised. Since when is anyone happy to see you? Suddenly, you found your face pressed against her breast as she gave you a big hug. “You’ve grown so much, but still as beautiful as ever.” 

Your face burned. “Thank you,” you said carefully. You pulled away from her. Dick was grinning. You could see his mind whirling, probably thinking that this was going great. Honestly, it was too early for you to make such a call. 

Kori reached out to play with your hair. “Shall we go eat? I have heard great things about this place.” She pulled you into her side and dragged you along into the restaurant. Dick went ahead to open doors for the two of you. You were beginning to see where Dick learned his touchiness from.

***

You hung back, watching Dick and Kori ahead of you. They were holding hands. Dick seemed so relaxed, happier than he had ever been since you came to live with him. Your heart sank slightly. 

After dinner and the movie, Dick and Kori wanted to walk around the nearby mall. You made sure to keep your distance to give them time alone. It wasn’t like they made you feel like you were intruding, but their lovey-dovey attitude was embarrassing. 

Dick turned around to look for you. He grinned when he saw you, gesturing for you to catch up. You sighed before walking faster. “Do you want ice cream, kiddo?” Dick reached out to wrap an arm around you. Kori smiled at you.

“I suppose,” you said, glancing between the two of them. You tensed slightly. 

“Is there any store you want to look at, (Y/N)?” Kori asked, taking your hand. Your chest tightened at being trapped between them. Too close for comfort.

“No.” You blinked, tears threatening to fall. Your heart ached, and you realized this is would it would be like to have parents. Of course, you loved your father, but he would never do anything like this. 

Dick kissed your forehead. “Okay, how about we get ice cream and look around? We’ll stop if anything catches your interest.” He pulled you along. Kori’s hand was still in yours. The heat from her hand warming yours almost like sunlight. Slowly, you began to relax and enjoy yourself.

***

Over the next several weeks, Kori gradually entered your daily life. She would come over for dinner, even helping you cook. On weekends, the three of you would do something. Part of you wondered if they were planning everything out, so it would be a smooth transition when Kori moved in.

They never officially asked you until it got to the point where Kori was there when you went to bed and when you woke up in the morning. You didn’t mind too much. So when they asked, you said yes and Kori was suddenly part of your household. Her stuff appeared in the bathroom and around the house. 

At the very least, Kori kept Dick distracted. You had a freedom that you hadn’t had since your dad died. As long as you showed up where you were supposed to be, you could do whatever you wanted.

Therefore, you spent most of your time at the local library. You used their computers to read up on the news in Gotham. Knowing that Dick blocked any news from Gotham, you had to find a different way. It was your home. You had a right to know what was happening.

 Damian was on a reign of terror so to speak. He was keeping the peace, even if he went a bit farther than your father even went. People noticed a difference in Batman, but didn’t know it was no longer the same man under the mask. You started reading the news so much that it got to the point of being an obsession of yours. 

One day, your heart skipped a beat when you came across a conspiracy website that had an article about Bane’s murder. You read it, unable to stop yourself. 

Your blood ran cold when the article detailed how Robin murdered Bane, thus why Robin disappeared after that night. Everything around you faded away. The familiar smell of smoke, rotting fish, and iron came back to you. Pain blossomed in your temple. The horrible crack of your father’s head filled your ears followed by Bane’s laughter.  

However, something new came back. You remembered the feel of the knife in your hand. The spray of the blood when you stabbed Bane over and over again. Bane had laughed, daring you to kill him before he screamed when you finally did it.

Suddenly, a hand landed on your shoulder. You fell out of your chair with a scream. The blood drained out of your face when you found you were still in the library. One of the librarians was standing over you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, helping you to your feet. “It’s just that your time on the computer is up.” 

You swallowed hard. “Yeah, okay.” You grabbed your backpack. Your hand shaking so badly you almost dropped it. “Thank you.”  The smell of that night was still in your nose as you went out the door. You broke into a run. Panic clamped your heart. Your breath coming out in gasps.  Black swarmed your vision as you made it home. All you wanted was to get away and hide. 

Once you were inside, you slammed the door behind you and ran up the stairs. You could hear Kori calling out for you, but it sounded so far away.  Your heart was pounding so fast you thought it would burst from your chest. The black in your vision got worse. You couldn’t get enough air through the ragged gasps. Your bedroom door banged behind you and the last thing you remembered is smacking onto the floor. 

***

You broke through the darkness enough to feel the sensation of being held. A sigh escaped you. Your nose tickled when you caught the scent of Kori’s perfume.  “They’ve calmed,” Kori whispered right by your ear. You felt so tired. Your eyes too heavy to open. 

“Good.” Dick’s voice was dry from exhaustion. “I thought that round was never going to end.” A hand rubbed your back. From the calluses, you knew it was Dick’s. “(Y/N) hasn’t been this bad since right after...you know.” 

“This has happened before?” Kori’s voice raised in surprise. You felt yourself being laid down and tucked under a blanket. 

Dick swallowed hard. “According to Alfred, they were like this for two weeks after Bruce passed. They snapped out of it when Damian smacked them during one of the fits. (Y/N) almost broke his arm, but they woke up and were aware for a bit.” Kori’s thin fingers ran through your hair, brushing your temple. “They would come and go for weeks after, except they wouldn’t have the fits. It was like they would just go blank. No emotion, no life.” 

“But they haven’t done that recently.” Kori shifted. You realized you must be in bed from how the surface moved under you. 

“No, something must have triggered them.” Dick sighed. You imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I worked so hard to keep them from the news in Gotham. They must have heard something somehow. I mean, they didn’t even get triggered when they got poisoned by Cheshire.” 

Kori hummed. Her fingers still in your hair. “Well, we’ll help them through this. Trauma doesn’t go away so easily.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” You felt Dick’s lips on your forehead. Sleep was pulling you back under. “To think I was more worried about how we were going to get through Thanksgiving.” Dick pulled away as you slept once more.

***

You woke up alone in your own bed. Every part of you felt sore. You were in the flannel pajamas Kori had bought you. A frown pulled at your lips when you saw the hand shaped bruises on your arms. Slowly, you got out of bed, gasping when pain shot through your leg. You caught yourself on your bedside table. Your hand brushed the clock, sending it crashing to the ground. 

“Crap,” you hissed. Taking a deep breath, you breathed through the pain and grabbed the clock to set it back on the table. 

“(Y/N)!” Kori shouted. You could hear her flying up the stairs. She burst into your room, skidding to a halt when she saw you up. “Oh, you’re awake!” The relief in her voice surprised you as you were suddenly in her arms. She spun you around. “You scared us so much. Don’t do that again.” 

You got dizzy, still too weak. “Kori, you’re making me sick.” 

“Oh, sorry.” She set you down on the bed before resting her hands on your cheeks to study your face. “Are you hungry? You should eat.” 

You blinked, staring at her vibrant green eyes. Hunger gnawed at your stomach. “Yes.”  Kori grinned. She grabbed the throw blanket on the end of your bed and wrapped it around you. You got to your feet with her help and you slowly made your way downstairs. Kori set you on the couch before going to the kitchen. “Where did I get these bruises?” You pulled up your sleeve to stare at the dark ugly hand print on your arm.

“That was from me.” Kori banged around the kitchen. You winced at the noise. “I was trying to stop you from shattering your window.” Your eyes widened in shock. Wouldn’t you remember if you did something like that? 

“Oh.” You heard the microwave running. Reaching for the remote, you turned on the TV to watch the news. You are surprised when you discovered a week had passed since you were at the library.

Kori came back in the living room with a tray with a steaming bowl of soup on it. She set it on your lap before disappearing back into the kitchen. You took a sip of the soup. It was obviously from a can, but you could eat it. Kori came back with a stack of recipe books. “Let’s watch something different,” she said carefully. She reached over and changed the channel to a rerun of some comedy. 

You frowned, sensing something was up. She ignored your look and opened the recipe book. “What are you doing?” you finally asked after several minutes of silence. 

“I’m preparing for the meal of Thanksgiving,” Kori said, not looking up as she bookmarked a page. “It’s in two days.” 

“Oh.” You took another sip of soup. A rock formed in your stomach. You ruined everything again. “Can I help?” You needed to try to fix things. Why did you have to be such a burden?

Kori studied you. “Are you up for it? You just woke up a half an hour ago.” You could see from her micro-expressions that she really wanted help and you knew Dick wasn’t going to be able to do that. He’d probably just burn the house down.

You nodded, taking another sip of soup before grabbing one of the recipes books. “I can help.” 

“Alright then.” Kori smiled in relief and the two of you got to work.

*** 

Dick came home once you and Kori had the shopping list done. He froze, staring at you. His bag dropped to the floor. You turned to look at him, flinching when you saw he had a black eye. “You’re awake.” Suddenly, you were in Dick’s arms. You felt tears dripping onto the top of your head. “You had me scared to death.” 

Kori took the tray into the kitchen to give you and Dick more space. Dick tightened his arms around you. “Okay,” you mumbled, unsure how to react. 

“Good.” He collapsed on the couch, setting you on his lap. Your face burned slightly, but you were too tired to move. Besides, Dick wasn’t letting you go. 

“I’m going to the store,” Kori said, slipping on her coat. “Dick, are you good?” She smiled at the two of you. 

“Yeah, (Y/N) and I will be fine.” Dick kissed the top of your head. He rocked you, tears still in his eyes. Kori nodded and left. Time passed and Dick still didn’t let go of you.

You reached up to touch his black eye. He hissed in pain slightly. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. 

“Did I punch you?” You felt him tense.

“Not on purpose.” Dick grabbed a blanket and covered both you and himself. “You were trying to get away and you elbowed me.” 

You frowned, relaxing enough to lay your head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” He rubbed your back. “I know you were looking up the news in Gotham.” His voice softened to a whisper. “Honey, I know why you would want to know, but I don’t think you’re ready. I thought I was going to have to put you in the hospital.” You didn’t say anything, not sure what to say. “We got to take it slow, okay? One day at a time.” 

“Okay.” You buried your face into his chest to hide your tears. Dick just squeezed his arms around you to hold you tighter.

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Dick took a deep breath. “Well, Thanksgiving is in two days. You were gone for about a week.” 

“I know. Kori and I were deciding what to make.” You untucked your face from his chest to look at the comedy on the TV. “Who else is coming?” 

Dick paused, looking troubled for a second. You frowned, sensing there was something he was trying not to say. “It’s just the three of us. We’d figured you wouldn’t be up for a big celebration.” Dick gave you a bright smile, but you could see he was hiding something. 

You hummed, keeping your eyes on the TV. Your eyes grew heavy and you pushed away your concern for what Dick was trying to hide. Dick kept you close as you let sleep take you once again.

***

The next day, you, Kori, and Dick were in the kitchen. You were making bread rolls while Dick and Kori peeled potatoes.  You felt so fragile emotionally. Dick and Kori insisted you take it easy and you couldn’t find the will to disagree with them.

“I’m excited for all this food,” Dick said, smiling over at you. You glanced over at him as you kneaded the dough. 

“Yes, it’s going to be quite good.” Kori leaned over to kiss his cheek. Dick chuckled, smiling brighter than before. Your heart fell slightly. Why did you have to ruin everything? Dick would be happier without you. Maybe you should just disappear? 

You shivered violently. Shaking your head, you stopped those thoughts. The last thing you needed was to become depressed too if you weren’t depressed already. 

Dick wiped his hands before getting up and leaving the room. He came back a moment later with a sweater. “Gotta keep you warm.” He wrapped the sweater around your shoulders. 

“Thanks,” you whispered. You added more flour to your dough to stop it from sticking to your hands. Kori smiled over at the two of you. All you saw was love in her eyes. It took you off guard. You kept your eyes on your dough. 

Dick hugged you from behind. His chin rested on the top of your head. “We’re going to have to take a picture of the final meal. Alfred will want to see how talented you are.” 

“It’s not a talent. Alfred taught me.” You tensed slightly in his arms, slowing down your kneading. 

“Alfred taught me too, but I can’t bake or cook like you can.” Dick kissed the top of your head. He moved to sit back down next to Kori, peeling more potatoes. 

“That is true.” Kori nodded in agreement. “You are very talented, (Y/N).” 

Your face burned as you started to shape the dough into bun shapes. Dick’s phone rang. He frowned when he looked at the caller ID. “I’ll be a minute.” He quickly got up to leave the room.

Kori noticed you watching him go. “It’s just work, (Y/N),” she reassured rather strangely. You gave her a questioning look. Kori simply smiled, getting up to help you move the shaped dough onto a baking sheet. 

A wave of exhaustion washed over you. “I think I’m going to lay down while the dough proves again.”

“Of course.” Kori took the baking sheet away and covered it with a towel. “I’ll finish the rolls from here. Take as long a nap as you want.” She came over to kiss the top of your head.  You slowly got up and headed up to your bedroom. Dick was on the phone in his and Kori’s bedroom, but you didn’t bother to listen. All you could think was the comfort of your bed.

***

You woke up early the next morning. Part of you wanted to go for a run, but you remembered how Dick and Kori wanted you to take it easy, so you settled for a slow walk instead. The leaves were starting to change. You snorted at the sight. In Gotham, the leaves would have fallen already. 

On the way back home, you stopped at the gas station to pick up coffee and breakfast sandwiches. You figured since you were already going to be cooking most of the day, you might as well avoid making breakfast. Besides, maybe you’ll feel less like a burden if you got breakfast for Kori and Dick too.

You walked through the front door to find Dick frowning at you. “(Y/N), where have you been?” He seemed more worried than angry, but your heart ached anyway. 

“I got breakfast.” Tears burned your eyes. You cursed yourself for being so emotional.

Dick’s face softened. “Oh well, thank you.” He came over to take the coffees and the bag of sandwiches from you. Kori stumbled down the stairs. Her hair a wild mess of red. She was only wearing one of Dick’s shirts. When she raised her arms above her head, you could see she wasn’t wearing underwear. 

You quickly averted your gaze and took off your sweater. “Kori, could you put some underwear on, please?” Dick asked when he realized what you just saw. 

“Oh yes. I forgot.” Kori slowly made her way back upstairs. 

“Sorry.”  Dick was blushing. “I told her to make sure to wear clothes when you’re around.” 

You frowned, still feeling very weepy. Dick studied you before reaching over to pull you into a hug. “I’m not mad, kiddo. You just scared me. I woke up and you were gone.” A sob escaped your lips and you started full out bawling. You felt so embarrassed, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Dick rocked you back and forth, keeping you in his arms. 

Kori came back downstairs with underwear on this time. She stopped when she saw you, but then came up to join the hug. “What happened?”

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was gasp. “(Y/N) thought I was mad at them for getting us breakfast,” Dick explained when you didn’t speak. 

“Oh poor baby.” Kori kissed the top of your head. Eventually, you got control of yourself and pulled away from him. Dick had a giant wet spot on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. You turned to the sink to clean up your face while Dick and Kori sat down for breakfast. Taking a deep breath, you joined them and pretended you hadn’t sobbed your heart out. 

Once you all finished breakfast, the cooking began. You led the way with Kori’s help. Dick stayed out of the way, mostly just washing dishes. 

Hours later, the three of you sat down to a lovely thanksgiving dinner. Dick had to take a few pictures before he could finally let you eat. 

“This is so good,” Dick said after he had taken several bites from his plate. “I’m so glad I just washed dishes.” 

Kori and you laughed. You took a bite of mashed potatoes, feeling very content. More content than you felt in a long time. 

Around the time when you were bringing the two types of pie to the table, there was a knock on the door. Dick and Kori shared worried looks. “I’ll get it,” Dick said, getting up and leaving. You started to follow him, but Kori stopped you. 

“Stay here,” she whispered, pushing you down in your seat before following Dick. You frowned, but stayed where you were. Part of you wanted to cry again, but you held it in. 

The next thing you heard was Kori yelling in her native language and firing star bolts. Dick was trying to calm her down. Someone else was yelling too. You got up from your seat and shuffled over to take a peek. Superman, dressed as Clark Kent, was at the door with a tall black man. You focused on the man before recognizing him from your dad’s files. It was Martian Manhunter’s human form. You frowned. Why were they here and why was Kori attacking them?

“You are not taking (Y/N).” Kori sounded deadly. You shivered, scared. 

“Starfire, you are not (Y/N)’s guardian. This doesn’t concern you,” Clark said in a low tone. He turned to Dick. “We believe (Y/N) is very ill, and they need help you can’t give them.” 

Dick’s face dropped into a batglare. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. It looked even scarier than your father’s. “No, (Y/N) stays here. I’ve already talked to them about seeing a therapist, but they don’t need to go to whatever facility you are going to lock them in.”  Dick growled. “Why did you have to come today of all days? I already told you this over the phone.” 

You swallowed hard. Your body started shaking violently. Were you sick enough to be locked up? You didn’t mean to kill Bane. Was this to be your punishment?

J’onn must have heard your thoughts. He turned to look at you with the others following his gaze. Kori rushed over to you and pulled you back into the kitchen. “They are not going to take you,” she said firmly, looking you straight in the eye. “I won’t let them.” She pulled you into a tight hug. Your face was pressed against her breast, but you were too scared to care. Now that it was possible, you didn’t want to be taken away from Dick and Kori.

Kori pulled you into the corner of the kitchen when Dick walked with Clark and J’onn behind him. “No, you are not taking them.” Kori raised her hand, star bolt ready to fly. 

“We’re just going to talk, Kori,” Dick soothed, coming over to study you. “No one is going to take you, (Y/N).” He frowned at how hard you were shaking. 

To his credit, Clark looked sick by how scared he made you. J’onn frowned, reading your mind. “They are stable for now. Just terrified,” J’onn mumbled. 

“They were just fine before you two showed up.” Dick turned to face them, standing in front of you protectively. “(Y/N) had a minor setback, but they are getting better. I don’t know why you all had to get involved now. None of you wanted anything to do with (Y/N) after Bruce died.” Kori tightened her arms around you. You started to cry quietly. 

“Roy Harper and Donna Troy expressed some concerns.” Clark cleared his throat.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course, they did.” 

“Neither of them offered to help. All they wanted to do was lock (Y/N) up,” Kori snapped. “I came as soon as I came back to earth and heard what happened.” She kissed the top of your head. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You cried harder, unable to believe her. “I’m doing my best with (Y/N) and they have gotten better.” Dick turned to rub your back. “They are my kid. You don’t see me coming in and questioning what you are doing with Jon or M’gann.” 

“That’s not the same thing,” Clark protested. 

“Yes, it is.” Dick glared at the two men. “I understand why they came to you with concerns, but I’m handling it. (Y/N) and I are working through things. We’re both had to make changes, but we did it.” Dick took a deep breath. “So unless you want to stay for pie, I’m going to ask you to leave.” 

Clark and J’onn shared a long look. “Sorry for interrupting your thanksgiving.” Clark and J’onn left with Dick following them out. Kori kept holding onto you. You started to calm down. No one was going to take you away. 

“You’re okay.” Kori soothed, moving you to the sink to help you clean up your face. Dick came back in, hugging you from behind. 

“I’m sorry about that, kiddo.” He kissed the back of your head. “You’re here to stay.” You relaxed. “So should we have some pie and watch some football?” 

Kori wrinkled her nose. “You know I still don’t understand why grown men run around a field and tackle each other?” You bit your lips to keep from laughing.

“Because it’s fun,” Dick said, throwing his arms in the air. “It’s like when you tackle me.” His eyes widened, realizing what he just said. You couldn’t hold back the laughter after that. Kori looked even more confused, but smiled at the sound of your laughter. Dick grinned. “Not like that.” He kissed your forehead again. You laughed hard, happier than you have been in a long time.

[29-pieces]

Whumptober day 23 - Good Omens

Day 23: Sleep Deprivation Fandom/setting: Good Omens - pre-Apocalypse, shortly after Crowley wakes up from the century he decided to snooze through Read on AO3 Read on FF.net

~*~

The pain was more than he could stand, a coursing, biting, stinging, agonizing pain. Crowley slumped forward in the chair he was bound to, wrists tugging desperately at ropes that had been secured by a duke of Hell and therefore weren't going to come loose no matter how much he struggled. Blood dripped from a dozen different cuts across his face, chest, and limbs... he'd lost so much of it already, it was a wonder his body didn't discorporate...

A dagger flashed, taking another slice out of his cheek. Crowley cried out with pain and it was too much, it was all too much, the relentless torment. As the blood flowed, his vision started going grey at the edges, then darker grey, then black... Somewhere in the distance, a nasty voice was saying nasty things, but Crowley lost all sense of it as he dipped at last into blessed, merciful, beautiful unconsciousness.

ZAP!

Crowley heard himself screaming as the electric current tore through every muscle in his body, the heat burning his throat where the collar made contact with skin. Jolted back awake, he straightened in the chair and panted, trying to breathe through the sobs.

"Ah-ah," Hastur said, crouching down in front of Crowley and patting his cheek. "Best stay awake if you don't want that to happen again." He grinned, though, jagged teeth showing that he very much wanted that to happen again.

Crowley trembled as the electric current slowly dissipated, then looked up at his tormentor.

"Come on, fellas," he wheezed plaintively, watching Hastur stand and start to stalk around him, while Ligur lounged nearby with a grin. "I got it, okay? I learned my lesson, we- we don't have to keep doing this-"

"Beelzebub thinks otherwise," Ligur reminded him. "Hastur and I got the whole year off just to keep this up and make sure the lesson sinks in. It's only been... what's it been, Hastur?"

"A week," Hastur replied. The toad on top of his head croaked delightedly. "So get used to pain for a while, Crowley. You got fifty-one more to go."

"Can't- can't we talk about this? I swear I'll do better-"

"A century, Crowley. A century of temptations and spreading evil and potential souls for our side, gone to waste."

Crowley leaned away from the dagger hovering over one of his snake eyes, still shaking. "I already said I was sorry-"

"You're here to do a job, not sleep."

"I told you, I was recovering, my angel nemesis had-"

"You got a boo-boo and decided to have a nice lie-in? For a hundred years? And thought that was going to go over well?" Hastur tsk-ed. "And you claim to be so clever. Well, you had your nice little century long nap, so do you know what you'll be doing for the next century?" Hastur pressed the dagger into Crowley's cheek, letting the snake demon's blood drip down the blade as he flashed his teeth again. "Not sleeping."

"Your new little collar will see to that," Ligur tittered. "Every time you fall asleep..." He punched a fist into his palm. "Zap!"

"For a hundred years." Hastur pulled the dagger away, then plunged it hilt-deep into Crowley's abdomen.

Crowley had spent the first two days trying not to give them any satisfaction, but that had quickly gone out the window under Hastur's skillful hands: he threw his head back and screamed. This, of course, only ignited the bloodlust in Hastur's eyes. The toad croaked again as Hastur withdrew the dagger and then stabbed it in once more several inches away. Crowley choked on blood, feeling the hot liquid dribbling from his mouth. The edges of his vision were going dark again, the pain too much to tolerate even as he frantically tried to stay awake to avoid the jolt of electricity that would be following soon.

He couldn't stop... he was slipping...

...

...

ZAP!

Crowley screamed again and sobbed, writhing in his chair as he rode through yet another wave of the electricity. A year of this?! Hastur wasn't going to get bored and leave him alone, Crowley was really going to spend the entire year tied to this chair in unending torment. They'd already warned him they had pre-filed the paperwork to fast-track his recorporation in case he died, which meant there was no mercy coming. Hot tears slid down Crowley's face, hating that it had only taken a week for them to break him of any pride.

"Let's start again," Hastur beamed. "Ligur, you want a turn?"

Crowley shrank back as much as he could in the chair, but of course he was helpless...

The door to the shack burst in suddenly, blown off its hinges. Crowley had just enough time to see a blinding ring of heavenly light, his befuddled mind whispering "angel", before a concussive whomp knocked him senseless.

...ZAP!

Crowley shrieked as the electric current ran right over the pathways it had just burned through his muscles before he'd had the slightest chance to heal, only multiplying the pain. He writhed and shook, his own body no longer under his control, while somewhere beside him he heard a horrified, frantic voice calling his name. Then he was pitching forward, wrists free of their bonds, straight into something soft and sturdy.

"Crowley, oh Crowley, my poor boy, what in Heaven's name have they done to you? What- what is that thing?"

Hands at his throat, ripping the shock collar off his neck, and Crowley trembled with relief.

"Angel," he whispered hoarsely. Weakly, he smiled up at his savior, meeting Aziraphale's stricken eyes. "Good timing..."

"Why are they hurting you?" the angel cried. "I haven't seen you in... must be a hundred years, at least..." He blanched, then gasped, "You haven't been here that whole time?"

Crowley shook his head in reassurance, rubbing his shredded wrists painfully. "Week," he murmured. "They- they weren't happy with me..." He looked around Aziraphale to see Hastur and Ligur unconscious on the floor. Pity they didn't have a demonic shock collar to wake them, he thought resentfully.

The angel rumbled with displeasure, then quietly offered, "Let me heal you."

He reached for Crowley, but the demon pulled away. "Best not," he said mournfully. "Be hard enough to find a convincing lie for Beelzebub what happened here... an angel bursts in and the one demon who's already down for the count is rescued and healed?"

Aziraphale slumped but nodded, then tensed. "I- I suppose I should... kill them," he said doubtfully. "I came investigating because of all the demonic energy coming from this place..."

As much as the idea genuinely appealed to Crowley, he shook his head with regret. "Can't do that, either," he decided. "Be even more suspicious, wouldn't it? That you killed two dukes but I escaped."

This did bring a conundrum, the more he thought about it. Even if he did "miraculously escape" the angel, he hadn't finished his punishment from Beelzebub. Crowley trembled with the idea of enduring the remainder of the year like this, and another 99 without the ability to sleep. He couldn't do it. But... Crowley's mind began to race as the beginnings of a plan came together. He looked up at Aziraphale and grimly smiled. ~*~

Aziraphale tried not to pace, but really his nerves were shot. Crowley had sworn he would come back up as soon as he'd checked in with Beelzebub, but until he did so, the angel had no way of knowing if Crowley's clever tongue was going to be enough this time. It sounded like he'd been in dreadful trouble, now he was walking straight back into Hell? Then again, what else could he do short of running away and being hunted forever? Aziraphale wrung his hands, already toying with the idea of how he might justify to Heaven that he simply had to go and rescue a demon from Hell...

The door opened and Aziraphale spun around, then nearly sagged with relief to see Crowley trudging in, clearly exhausted and still covered in horrible wounds, but still very much alive.

"It worked?" he asked anxiously, hurrying to meet his friend.

Crowley nodded, managing a smile. "Beelzebub bought it," he said with a shrug. "I just said that collar woke me up after you knocked us all out, and that you decided to brutally torture me for information-"

Aziraphale squeaked in dismay, even though he knew of course this had always been part of the plan, and that of course he hadn't actually done so. But, just, the thought...

Ignoring him, Crowley went on, "And I had to use all my wiles to trick you into believing false information, that Hastur and Ligur were considering turning traitor. So of course you spared their lives, not wanting to kill potential future informants."

"And Beelzebub believed that?" Aziraphale couldn't help but repeat incredulously.

Crowley shrugged. "S'not like Hastur or Ligur can dispute it, being unconscious for the whole thing and all. Told them you'd decided to let me go afterward as payment for the 'information', then I brought the dukes down to safety. Saved their miserable lives, I did. Two dukes, and I out-wiled a principality to boot. Beelzebub commuted the rest of my sentence for it."

Aziraphale shook his head, watching the snake demon with pure admiration. "I must say, you have quite the clever mind, my dear. Now then... I understand you can't be sleeping a whole century through again, but mightn't it be prudent to rest for a little while and let your body heal from that horrid Hastur? You... you can stay here at my place, if you like," he added, feeling a touch of heat on his cheeks. He hurried to add, "I mean, no demon is going to think of checking up on you here, especially now that I'm the, er... brutally torturing principality. You might even let me have a look at those wounds now?"

Crowley glanced down and raised a noncommittal shoulder. "Er... yeah, alright," he said. "Not sure I could even get back home, to be honest. So exhausted..."

"Then it's settled," Aziraphale decided decisively. "You make yourself at home, I'm going to put some water on to boil. You're safe here, Crowley."

The demon nodded, a wan smile crossing his face. "Erm... you know..."

He trailed off, but he didn't need to finish. Aziraphale smiled back, then hurried to fetch the water.

You're welcome, he silently replied.

[losingmyjustice]

@nurotoxin​​​ sent;

scraTCH THAT [ everything ( minus appeal ) ] + glados

Thoughts & Feelings

Send [ word ] + a character name for my muse to talk about that character.

"Unfortunate that I ended up running into her." beat. "Or rather, that she ended up approaching me. Because, clearly, the first thing you think of when seeing a stranger sitting alone trying to get some peace and quiet is how great of a test subject they'd be. Absolutely normal."

"Also, I'm quite annoyed by how persistent she is — clearly there are more cooperative people she can irritate with her tests, yet she still sees it necessary to bother me despite how I've opposed to it since the get-go."

"Frankly, I don't get it, how she can loathe me to bits yet still be the one initiating an interaction. Sounds rather self-sabotaging, if you ask me. I'd think both of us would profit from it if we'd avoid each other."

Send [ oops ] + a character name for my muse to blurt something about that character.

"If you think about it," he spoke, while not thinking much about it, let alone how offensive it might be. "to claim she's taller than me is ridiculous."

"Her, er, vessel had been assigned by the Stars upon her arrival, right? It's not ... bound with her, so to say. Meaning, should one put her into a tinier vessel similar to the ones you find in Craft-Punk, then she'd have a new, much smaller height than she initially did, while still being the same person. Therefore, her vessel being taller could be compared to someone wearing high heels, no? It's not her, physically, being taller." he’s just salty.

"— Should she argue about this, then just put her in a 2ft tall vessel and see if she still believes it's fair to judge height per the vessel she's in. I bet she'd hate that."

Send [ think ] + a character name to know my muse’s thoughts on that character.

You squint as she took her leave. Despite having her back turned, you're rather certain she's aware of the stare piercing her, though really it'd only be all the better if she is.

All she had said is for you to wait with no further explanation. Likely bringing something, you reckon. You did scoff that you'd leave immediately just to spite her, but both of you know that it won't come to such — it's difficult to find a quiet spot as is with all these celebrations, and you genuinely don't have the energy to bother today. So here you are, grumbling; What the hell is her problem?

If you'd only go by the 'tests' she offers, you'd think of her as a joke. You still do, but — aside from amusement, what's there for her to accomplish? Granted, she does gain some info here and there about Spirale, but apart from that? If that's it, she sure picked quite the horribly inconvenient way to approach the matter. Someone who'd seek actual results wouldn't do that. What's worse; that isn't it. If it'd be just a puzzle enthusiastic scientist wanna-be would be one thing, but only a glance on her attitude and you'd argue her to be worse than the imbecile Dimitri, for obvious reasons. So why? Is she studying people and their way of thinking solely to understand them? That'd barely make sense, considering how she gives no damn about humans to be this interested. Hell, you'd not be surprised if she'd replace her test subjects with these stupid turrets if she could, considering how she reacted when you tossed it the other day. So, what is it then? You can't fathom a potential goal she might be seeking that isn't ridiculously outlandish.

... Maybe she doesn't have a goal, you think. Perhaps she truly is driven by the concept of 'doing science' alone, like she had been programmed to do — and that's all she does, despite the fact that she isn't even where the task was given to her. Gathering information just for the sake of gathering information, with no slight interest on who it aids, or who it expenses. A pointless routine, pretty much. "Despicable," you find yourself muttering, seeing her return again from a distance. You can't imagine anyone living content and happy without having an aim they're striving for in life.

You'd know.

Send [ heart ] + a character name to know my muse’s true feelings for that character.

As much as I'd love to say he's holding a front or whatever, unfortunately, beneath the disrespect is just the same thing but bass-boosted. True, he did act on prejudices at first, but his assumptions had been more than confirmed to him by now, so really he'd call it horseshit if you were to speak to him about how he's got to be open-minded and etc.

However!! While he does have more respects for a snail than for GLaDOS, it might come to a surprise to you when I say he finds her much more tolerable than Dimitri! So hey, at least she got that going for her! Even if he'd never admit that. There are several reasons that go into this — for instance, the fact that she isn't love-struck & her actions (cough, life) not entirely centered around such do make talking to her less annoying. You could claim that she's love-stuck by science, I guess, but she doesnt whine about it. GLaDOS is also far less gullible, much more observant; while it was fortunate for Clive that Dimitri wasn't alike to her in that aspect, conversing with a fool that has only one thing in mind is hardly interesting, and at some point forward even the thrill of deceiving them was gone, more alike to a ludicrously boring routine. It hurts me to insult Allen like this but, yeah — speaking to someone who's less naive is, ultimately, less tedious.

Also uh, this is sad to say but, yknow, Clive keeping up an act around Dimitri at all times was draining — smiling while wanting to strangle someone is!! not a fun thing. Neither is acting like you're a fan of a work that had your parents killed. But, with GLaDOS, he doesn't have to pretend shit. To put it bluntly, it's a relief he can be the asshole he wants to be without repressing it. And, relief makes stuff more tolerable! For him.

There's definitely the comfort of 'im having a bad day and im about to make that everyones problem' that he was unable to do all these years but, hey, you didn't hear that from me.

Regarding testing, they're not always horribly annoying to him unlike he'd claim — especially the ones you could (almost) compare to puzzles; they do catch his interest, and there's always the satisfaction you get when you got it right. However, he'll always be awfully reluctant to do the tests despite how intriguing they might be, and should he end up doing it anyway — never express that delight. Maybe a smirk might slip, but should she point that out he'd make sure in one way or another for her to take that back, or reason said smirk to be something insulting against her — yknow, the usual. Clive wants to be as inconvenient as possible as a 'test subject', and, is doing a good job at that. While yeah, the tests can low-key be temporarily nice, you won't find him miss these should she finally leave him alone. There are a lot of things he's missing, but GLaDOS and her Tests will never be on the list, really.

Send [ body ] + a character name to know my muse’s body language around that character.

So, uh. we both know he's emotionally unstable, right. Talking about his Body Language when he's acting like that is,, difficult, since it depends highly on his mood swings and I'm not about to count them all,, we'll be here forever if I do that. All I can say is that he's surely tense & sensitive whilst it.

However!! I'll ramble a bit about his usual demeanour w/ GLaDOS when things are "fine", whatever that means when talking about Clive

If he's just 'kinda there', as in low-spirited yet still well enough to talk shit (which is the 'usual' in their interactions IG) you can absolutely expect him to intentionally sit 'wrong' yet comfortably — just, y'know, to express disdain even further. Usually, it'd mean he's rather comfortable around you, but in this case, it's frankly just a lack of care of what GLaDOS thinks of him. She already knows he's got issues smh why bother giving a good impression,, Guard isn't really up either, slacking far too much to be so — just this state of "meh." where he very well can complain about the situation at hand without leaving despite it. Uhh, what else — ah and he got his hat off, likely just cast aside somewhere. shrugs

If Clive is ACTUALLY spacing out, be it to the extent where he trails off and loses his line of thoughts like all 30 seconds, or even as far to where he doesn't respond at all — if he's standing, sitting, henceforth, one thing for sure his posture would be slumped, although seeing how it's usually a thing that happens gradually, he'd stop sitting so improper (aside from the slumped posture, of course) so there's that, at least. Guard is obviously thrown out of the roof in such things. Whilst sitting there's also this habit where he'd tip with his fingers on the palm of the other hand (imagine like playing on a piano) or instead have a fist resting in it (as if you're counting for rock paper scissors) while he's spacing out— I can imagine GLaDOS would have already picked up on that to tell when he's getting lost in thought again.

Obviously, he got better days than that, where he'd care to keep up the manners you'd expect from him — but rest assured if he has the energy to act normal, he'll also have the energy to leave should GLaDOS show up. So, the next best thing is where he's irked, which. Well, that's not all too fun either, but. He'd sit upright, arms crossed, perchance even legs crossed, rather tense, you get the idea—much less cooperative too, but what else is new.

[elanska]

"you're just you" - Ibelin vs Latte

I'm a staunch Arwin x Latte supporter, and so often times I've been thinking about Arwin x Ibelin, just to see another POV angle of what could have been.

There are times when I read Arwin x Latte moments and I said to myself, he's supposedly to flirt with Ibelin instead and my heart starts to ache. and I determined to prove that Latte is a FAR SUPERIOR CHOICE (yes, I went on imaginary shipping war with myself. it's a fun activity)

Okay, so let's talk about original Ibelin x Arwin route. In original novel, Arwin is represented as pretty commoner mage boi who have been helping and protecting Ibelin with his magic from time to time in order to gain her affection. And THEN it turns out that this sweet mage boi is actually the most powerful mage. Lording over all the other mage (like, you know, the sweet boy next door is actually the powerful prince that can instantly solve your problem with bitch-of-a-rival! surprise!)

original novel!Arwin fall for Ibelin because of her beauty, kindness (she helps the poor boy in slums and have confrontation with the thugs who tried to steal it), and being different from all other girls(?maybe? this is usual setting for romance novel). anyway, she's superior from all other girls, so original novel!Arwin can't help but falling for her in every scenes. The Eirene dance ball where she dance gracefully, the Eirene street festival where Ibelin watch the ultimate bor....intelligent plays that set her different from other girls who just like shallow romantic/drama plot. The Eirene's Goddess selection where Ibelin show off her charm with her voice and beauty and make him falls harder for her.

As you can see from paragraphs above. Original novel!Arwin is BORING pretty much non-descript. just a human prop to show off Ibelin's charm as the female main character. There's practically not a difference from him, Kenneth, and Rondemio except the guys with different occupations (but all having powerfull status and extremely good looking) that fall in love with Ibelin who is perfect in everything. You can swap original novel!Arwin with other mage who hide his status as tower lord and pretend he's just a lowly friendly mage........and the story will not change much? since Ibelin is the focus here, we just need that non-descript (but still pretty) guy to fall in love with her and the plot will go on like usual (since Ibelin is the focus here, not him)

There's two critical line in Arwin's flag. 'you're just you' = somehow this mage invited Ibelin to visit his home, and Ibelin finds out that the nice, helpful mage is actually the lord of other mage. And that she's surprised, but Arwin is still Arwin. I will interpreted it as "you might be the magician's tower lord, but you're still the mage that kind to me")

And I'm promptly confused, because WHAT THE HELL that supposed to means? It's not like the tower lord title is something bad? unless if we're taken another interpretation that 'tower lord has awful reputation as crazy psychopath' and 'ta-da I'm /that/ notorious tower lord actually'. so that 'you're just you' line means = even though you're the rumoredly notorious tower lord, you're still my friend (well, he's still one of fish option at this point). And this is heartwarming to Arwin because he secretly thinks that no one will accepts him because he's notorious and everyone thinks he's a monster(?). So he questions this sweet, angelic goddess - if she also think he's a monster.

We're gonna pause a bit and explore Latte's route. As you all (y'all) aware, our favorite Arwin is a crazy bastard who enjoy entertainment more than anything and having ummm...an unique sense of humor, and apparently having no idea at all how to courting girls. Or maybe he do have /vague/ idea, but the line of somebody interesting-friend-goofy friend to hang around with-I kinda like this girl-I want her to like me back.......is so friggin’ blurry that we're not entirely sure when it ended in one category and began in another (and from what we read so far, neither were he)

oh by the way, this is same boi on Ibelin route's above. But instead in story where Ibelin's shining as female main characters surrounded by three generic cut-and-paste pretty powerful males, where his characterization fell into 'Arwin is selfish crazy (psychopath) bastard and powerful wizard's lord but *always* eating out Ibelin's hand' bracket, our murderous bunny get, like, "waitaminute. I *am* the selfish crazy (psychopath) bastard here, the *fuck** you telling me I should do again?" and proceed to wreck his bracket. Of course, bits and pieces of his original character still exist - like how he's a sweetheart when he's with the girl he likes. But instead "Hi I'm that notorious psychopath Arwin, but everytime my gal do something, I'll become devoted mob fanboy with swirly googly eyes meep meep at whatever she does" VS "Yea, I'm that notorious psychopath Arwin who likes A, B, C, and hates D, E, F. What's this? we encounter event D? well, with my characterization, I should go flying in rage, but but gal is here and it'll be /pitiful/ if she's crying, jeez. fine, I'll just let this slide (for you)"

(yes, it's cute to see him struggling like that)

sorry getting distracted there. the point is.....the point is....we like Arwin's characterization, we like how he's strongly struggling to stay consistent to his identity but also getting affected by his love for his gal (Latte) and bit changed for the better (hey, love makes you a better person). We like him as a male lead with distinctive personality instead love-interest!mob that exist solely to fanboy over Ibelin's time-to-shine-with-my-heroine-dokidoki-powaa events.

Which is why we strongly had question about the two critical lines-to-ensnare-his-heart.

"you're just you" = on Ibelin's route, Ibelin is a foreigner that came to Empire and therefore didn't know Arwin is 1. head of powerful faction; and 2. crazy selfish psychopath (since he's always nice when he's around her). She just shrugged and goes "hey you're nice to me. You're my friend" and Arwin goes *Doki* oh I totally fell for ya’.

Y'see, Arwin didn't have any reason to hide his position as the Lord of Magician's. And being magicians are pretty respectable. The /royal family/ even conduct business with them. Ibelin just never asks, and Arwin is not the type to flaunting his title around (power, sure, but not title). What about number two? From Latte's excerpts, Arwin never been anything but sweet and cute bunny when he's with Ibelin (her detractors meet grisly ends behind her back, like Iron Mentalle), like 'well I heard rumors, but it can't be that bad, you're very nice guy (to me all this time)" and Arwin goes *DOKI*. And I goes, hey bunny, you know it's not true, you know yourself not a nice guy, why do you fall just because a girl said you are *not* who you are?

(and sorry guys, I don't think he'll goes 'since I've met ibelin, I will strive to change myself to became a nice docile mage that helpful to everyone. Time for myself undergoes self-change to became a better man to fit this angelic Ibelin *doki* or some pretty sappy like that). In fact, this kind of scenario got quickly debunked in Latte's route wherein Ibelin command Arwin to be nice person to Latte and Arwin goes, like, 8 to -10 in instant. in a sense, Ibelin just told him to KNEEL! and like Latte said, it's too big of a dream. You can probably request the lord of magicians to vaguely crouched down a bit to help you search for contact lens that just dropped to the ground /per se/ - and if he's feeling nice and (particularly) likes you, mighta done it, but you didn't outright *command* him. He might also done it *within* time, like +20 years into marriage and had been tolerating each other for old long times already, but definitely not for a pretty stranger that, like, only been acquaintance for a month (and like we told you in the essay-that-I-don't-know-when-it'll-be-finisheddd-I'm-experiencing-writer's-block; Arwin has issues of being in power. He's rebellious edgy fish, this fish #3)

Where was I? oh yeah. and that *doki* question 'do you also think I'm a monster?' What the. Since when it's an issue to you Arwin? If you don't want other people view you as monster, then act nice to other people, hey you. But to be fair to him, Arwin seems indifferent with other people. He's used to people gawking at his out-of-this-world beauty, and used to people keeping their distance since he's the lord of magician's tower. the only thing we witnessed to support his scary reputation is his brutal treatment to dangerous thugs, which while makes you 'isn't that a bit excessive, dude? just hand them over to nearest guard (which never shows up, oh well)' but not exactly *le gasp!* 'what a monster! *flail flail* horrible! horrible! they just want to mug you and you chop their head off? poor them!' (ummm, I'm not the greatest example of showing compassion, so yeah.....)

So, anyway, even though people generally fear Arwin and might be crossing the other street when they see him, they're not exactly goes into 'hide the women and children!' level. Basically, I don't see what's the fuss and why I must adhere to people who call you monster just because you offed the mugger that wants to mug you. they can fret 'you should be nicer' but I will not cry and wailing pitifully because I dun wanna be called a monsteeerrr so I will goes ’tis me! mug me all ye want so I can proven my niceness and be accepted by the society!!'. And if me, the normal vanilla mortal thinks that way, I honestly cannot think the lord of magician's tower with ego that stronger than mine (and absolute power to back that up) will think that way.

So Arwin getting concerned with society's perception of him, having identity crisis and afraid of Ibelin also thought of him that way? bullshit. He /might/ be worried about Ibelin not liking him since she's his love interest and it's normal if you want to be liked by the person you like too. but society? can bugger off themselves. and Arwin is always nice/not monsterly to Ibelin, so I don't know where that came from/what it supposed to be. angelic!Ibelin sees Arwin went brutal to defend her and goes *le gasp* you monster?! - won't exist anyway since she's nice angelic girl. It's weird.

So let's talk about Latte's route. Latte, as you know, is the empire's citizen whom house is only 3 days and 3 nights away from the magician tower where Arwin's reside, so she pretty much know about his reputation (incidentally, Latte's knowledge about the original novel seemingly contradicts Arwin 'real' personality. She often thinks him as monster pychopath (chopping bishot's head off, chopping her head off - all over nothing). Arwin doesn't take offense from this even though it's pretty much rude (then again he likes Latte, and he knows what's his reputation and know for the fact that he is, in fact, ruthless (tho not as severe as the monster that Latte's imagined)

Arwin never be anyone but himself in front of Latte. In fact, he acted his worst reputation  (= crazy psychopath bastard) right in front of her. Burning her hair tie to get her attention, free-falling force play, insist of calling her annoying nickname that she hate. He also acted his best in front of her (helping her cover for Cano, checking on her and fetching her ride home when she needs it most; actually asking for her /permission/ for a dance! - Arwin can *force* anyone dance with him with puppetry if needed to, but he can't make them enjoying it. And since he likes Latte, he wants her to enjoy her time with him, be it dance, or solving mystery together, or just casual banter. It’s a (BIG) shift from I’ll enjoy spending my time with her to I want *her* to enjoy her time with me too.

From what we see, enjoyment is big drive for Arwin. His friendship with Latte (which including her in 'won't kill because she's funny'’ friendlist started when he finds her amusing). He also making a big fuss upon the super boring play that Ibelin makes him attend - verbally lashing Latte for making him go through that (for 30 mins); he left Latte watching Ibelin's singing contest all on her own and told her to not including him next time for this boring shit.

SPOILER FROM NOVEL FOR AT LEAST +3-4 CHAPTERS AHEAD (where Latte will basically saying 'you're just you' and personal wild theories flinging)

so Arwin take Latte a tour on his abode. His house, his room, his personal perching spot. And Latte seems not really enjoy them. viewing the tower walls from outside? normal room, scary-since-it's-so-high loft space with lots of winds around-you-might-find-it-amusing-but-I-don't. He tried to make her comfortable - providing shield from the wind, providing fire so she's not cold, but it didn't change the fact that while he enjoy this place, Latte might not, and no matter what he do, he can't change it. It's like you‘re hardcore cosplayer frequently attending cons and your friend are 'I don't even understand' but then sighed and said 'yeah, you and your dumb shit, what else is new?' and help making your props/booking your ticket/etc anyway. That kind of old familiarity and acceptance and intimate feels of 'I'm so used with all your antics this doesn't baffle me'

As for Arwin, well, we had elaborating about he's not following society standards (if he is, he won't be crazy psychopath bastard that he is), so we're wagering he's using his own standard in relationship. And since we know he's definitely not doing boring/drab things just to please his significant other, the thought of Latte doing it for him ('I don't really like being here, but it's for you, so okay then') kind of touching. Probably. Uh we don't really understand romance. 

and don't even ask me about 'do you also think I'm a monster' thing, because that shit is weird as fuck.

[heslikeaboyiveneverseen]

No one is you and that is your power

Autumn killed summer with the softest kiss

We haven’t spoke since you went away | Comfortable silence is so overrated

Sounds like something that I used to feel

Lover what’s your next move?

Give me your number, pick any colour, I can tell your fortune tonight

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

I’m your wreck

Ain’t no shame in some hand me downs

Just a comma in a decimal town anyway

The Black clouds hanging above you will follow me tonight

If it’s good it never goes away

Comparison is the thief of joy

It’s just a super cut of us

This sunflowers waiting for you

Baby you were my picket fence

Just need you and some sunsets

Fine as wine

I like my coffee how I like myself; strong, sweet and too hot for you

Don’t be bitter, just be better

They say you lose time asleep but I’m just tryna dream

Enjoy the best things in your life

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34

“Find someone who loves you well. Someone who never belittles you. Even in the heat of an argument. Someone who is gentle with you, but does not treat you like you are fragile. Someone who knows what you are capable of, and celebrates those pieces of you. Not someone who is intimidated by your strength. Someone who doesn’t make you feel guilty for being flawed. It is not love’s job to punish you. And remember the person you love is just as broken as you are when they fall short. No one is perfect – do not hold them to this standard. Find someone who is patient, forgiving, and apologetic. Someone who practices forgiveness freely and often. Love someone who is humble, kind, and empathetic. Not only with you, but with a beggar on the street, or a stranger in the supermarket. Common courtesy is important. Compassion is important. Kindness is important.”

My bones are too brittle to survive your love

Times are tough but I’m tougher

I’ll be fine

Study the painful patterns in your life then don’t repeat them

Never apologize for how you feel. No one can control how they feel. The sun doesn’t apologize for shining. The rain doesn’t say sorry for falling. Feelings just are

“Songs to listen to while you reflect on every awful decision you have ever made throughout your horrible life”

“Life is too short to waste any amount of time on wondering what other people think about you. In the first place, if they had better things going on in their lives, they wouldn’t have the time to sit around and talk about you. What’s important to me is not others’ opinions of me, but what’s important to me is my opinion of myself.”

C.JoyBell C

Definitely ≠ defiantly

Take chances take risks prosper

Visions of you maroon 5

Remember I told you I need you nick Jonas

The past is a place of reference not residence

Like I do David guetta

Best friend sofi tukker

So some days are just filler episodes. On Sunday, you feel a lot, but you don’t go anywhere. From the bed, to the fridge, to the couch, to toilet, to the sink, to the bed. Strips of light turn to strips of black between the blinds, and that’s the only way you know that the world is moving. You might even have a string of days like this one, where you can’t find meaning between the rise and fall of your breathing. It’s really nobody’s fault. All that I can tell you is: don’t close your heart to what comes next. In what other world do you get thousands of chances to discover yourself? Maybe on Monday, you’ll find some answers. Maybe on Tuesday, the pain will subside. Some days are just for getting through and getting by.

The egg don’t swim to the sperm bitch, never chase a man

I was an atheist until I reaLized I was god

What I want: money

What I got: a personality disorder

At least I have multiple disorders so they never get lonely

I have the same taste in wine as I do people, cheap and pretty tucking shitty

Get you a straw, you know this pussy is juicy

It would not be much of a universe if it wasn’t home to the people you love

And then some

To sink into myself courageously, electrically

Standing trial for your sins

Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not

There is nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood

Just because you are soft does not mean you are not a force to be reckoned with, both honey and wildfire are the color of gold

When I look at the universe I feel large, because I remind myself that not only are we living in this universe, the universe is living within us

Don’t hate your body because it’s too fat or too thin. Hate it because it’s a prison of flesh and it’s existence is meaningless

“Many of us have been running all our lives. We have the feeling that we need to run—into the future, away from the past, out from wherever we are. In truth, we don’t need to go anywhere. We just need to sit down and look deeply to discover that the whole cosmos is right here within us.”a

We are products of our pass but we don’t have to be prisoners of it

Illenium drawl outta love

If nothing lasts forever can I be your nothing?

When you’re in a dark place, you sometimes tend to think you’ve been buried. Perhaps you’ve been planted.

Unique

Baby I’m howling for you

I think us bad bitches is a gift from god

Pussy so good I said my own name during sex

Now now / half noise

“I hate cats” Yo dude i trusted you wtf the fuck? What the fuck?? What the fuck what the

I love the way you stay away from me, you make me melt

Only got each other we can turn to

Lying here, I know they’ll never break you free

Sometimes you have to burn some bridges to create some distance

Be your main girl

Now you’re seeing black and white, so I’ll paint you a clear blue sky 🎨

What’s the deal with young chickens?

My little girl Tim McGraw

Aka the independent variable

Let it pass; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.

I’m a creature of a culture I create

You don’t know my brain the way you know my name, you don’t know my heart the way you know my face

We live for the nights decor

I’m never what I like, I’m double sided

A car, a torch, a death

Friend, please

So good

Britney Spears g eazy

We were going and wild and decided not to have a child

Teach me how to be like you so I can not give a fuck

I’m a sucker for the way that you move babe

Don’t dismiss the elements. Water soothes and heals. Air refreshes and revives. Earth grounds and holds. Fire is a burning reminder of our own will and creative power. Swallow their spells. There’s a certain sweet comfort in knowing that you belong to them all.

Can’t promise that things won’t be broken but I swear that I will never leave

No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don’t.

I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees but to be quite upfront and completely truthful you make my body forget it has knees at all.

ur purpose on this earth isn’t to be liked by everyone why would u waste ur time trying to live such a restrictive existence trying to impress everyone like who really gives a fuck

What you seek lies far beyond this comfortable place

Close some doors today. Not because of pride, incapacity, or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere.

No mighty oak grew tall all on her own, she called on the winds to carry her seed, the rich earth to settle her roots and the sun and rains to make her strong. Do not be ashamed to reach out for help, this is how all great things are grown.

Shits all fucked up: a memoir

So sad, so strange. The days that are no more

Close some doors today. Not because of pride, incapacity, or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere.

You are too full of everything that makes you whole to ever be loved in halves

[foxydivaxx]

Bad Blood Chapter 1

Originally, this was meant to be connected to Young Justice: Demigods Arising but I have decided to tweak it a bit and make it the true Demigods Arising story of sorts. This is connected to the Osiris fic and whilst it is kinda Cassie-centric, it also focuses on other characters too. 

"Any news about Cassie?"

"Nah. No one has found her yet."

Tim sighs. It has been a month since Cassie disappeared after her humiliating defeat to Vanessa for the Wonder Girl title. Part of her regrets that decision to have said duel take place. She made that decision not considering what Cassie was going through then. The poor girl lost her then boyfriend Conner Kent and later got dumped by him. Sure, Conner returned but their relationship soon turned toxic to the point where the two engaged in a physical altercation in the School Hall that caused Cassie to get suspended for two weeks. As a result of this, Diana decided to punish her not taking into consideration Cassie’s physical and mental exhaustion at that point. According to Tatiana, Cassie overtrained herself and that led to Cassie’s humiliating defeat.

And now it is too late, Cassie has gone and would never return and if she ever returns, the girl would have joined the Dark Side which should not surprise anyone given her heritage and the negative influence of people like Ares. As if that wasn't bad enough, Cassie's younger twin sister Tatiana also followed suit. 

Adding more to the Cassie mystery is that she immediately deleted all her social media accounts on the same day as her defeat. That alone alarmed everyone as it is a well-known fact that Cassie loved taking selfies and playing around on social media and often talks to fans on there. But now that her presence is no longer felt, many began to panic, feeling that the poor girl might have committed suicide. This naturally led to the #JusticeForCassie campaign and #WonderWomanCancelled movement.

Please let Cassie not be dead.

Meanwhile in her room, Barbara was going through some files that she managed to dig up about HIVE case. So far she had managed to find some leads. Heck she can even say that she is far more competent and smarter than the entire Team as they are all a bunch of little kids. What was Batman thinking of putting little kids on a superhero team? Ok they are young kids, but they still could qualify for a wannabe superhero team since they all wear stupid outlandish costumes and use silly codenames, themselves and the so-called adults that call themselves Justice League. Seriously, what the fuck is that fucked up shit? Worst of the bunch as far as she is concerned is none other than Wonder Woman's little sidekick Cassie Sandsmark better known as Wonder Girl.

That girl is such a tragic trainwreck and a bitch. What did Tim and Conner ever see in her? What really pisses her off about the brat is that the girl reminds her of the stupid alien that Dick dated years ago. What was her name again? Oh yes Starfire. More like Hofire. Both of them are disgustingly beautiful. Starfire is a bit better because at least she can kick some ass. Cassie is completely useless that one forgets that she is supposed to be a fucking demigoddess yet someone like Damian can whoop her ass. She should even be able to go toe to toe with Supergirl and give her a nasty beatdown but nope, she gets her ass handed to her. Plus she dared to steal her Dickie from her.

Where did Diana find this child again? Oh yes, Diana did not find her instead the child fucking inserted herself into the Wonder Woman narrative just like Damian forced his way into the Robin title and never once earned nor deserved a single shit till recently. When will those brats learn? No wonder some people wished for Vanessa to take over as Wonder Girl. Ironically said girl is now Wonder Girl now how hilarious.

And alas, poor Cassie has disappeared and is nowhere to be seen. Well GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE! Barbara cackles evilly as she still plays around on her system.

Meanwhile at Gateway city, Tatiana was in her room with tears in her eyes whilst Donna comforts her. Cassie disappeared immediately after that defeat. One could understand why because that sort of defeat is very humiliating especially when the very girl that caused most of the unneeded drama in your life is responsible for it.

Making matters worse is the fact that many thought that Cassie was an irresponsible person and therefore unworthy to be Wonder Girl. This has been an ongoing debate for the past couple years. Sure Cassie has a temper but she can actually control said temper for the most part. The only reason that said rage has become more pronounced is as a result of Ares’ evil manipulation of his sister; something Diana and Zeus himself warned Cassie about. 

Cassie naturally took the bait since she had lost her powers during that time, not like anyone could blame her. Still the fact that many people bashed her for this, Diana included was horrible. Now after years of hypocrisy on the side of the heroes, no one should be surprised if Cassie suddenly and openly denounces them and exposes all their secrets or even goes all Superboy Prime on them or worse commit suicide.

Donna sighed. Sure Cassie has some shortcomings but Diana herself is a hypocrite, in fact everyone has been hypocritical when it comes to Cassie. A lot of the criticism being leveled upon the girl might as well be applied to other heroes as well like Conner or Tim for instance.

Ironically said hypocrisy has been thrown at Amon aka Osiris several times which is why said boy has distanced himself from the superhero community recently. Black Adam openly lambasted the League and everyone else for that and rightfully so. 

I hope you find happiness and peace Cassie. 

Just then Donna’s phone rings. She checks the phone and discovers that it is Kori calling her. She then answers the call. “Hi Kori.”

“Donna....you have to come down here quick!!”

A couple miles in New York, Cassie is standing on top of a rooftop, preparing to throw herself down and commit suicide. Now one would find it laughable since she is meant to be a demigoddess, until they realize one disturbing detailing: Cassie lost her powers yet again during the duel and has remained powerless ever since.

The rest of the Team bursts through the door. “CASSIE DON’T!!” Conner shouts. Cassie turns around with tears in her eyes. The others begin to feel guilty for making her feel that way.

“There is nothing left for me here. You have all made it clear that I do not belong here. So why waste my time when I can just elsewhere and find peace. Heck even Hell is more peaceful than here. I cannot stay with the gods because of they are going through their own drama and are killing each other anyway.” 

She takes a couple steps back. “Cassie I understand why you are mad at us and you have every right to hate us. But I want you to know that there are people that still love you regardless.” Kori says in the most gentle way possible.

It was at that moment that Cassie literally explodes. “LIES!! PURE UTTER LIES!! IF YOU ALL REALLY CARED, YOU WOULD HAVE ALLOWED ME TO PROPERLY EXPLAINED MYSELF!! YOU WOULD NOT HAVE ENCOURAGED TIM OR ANYONE TO BE ABUSIVE TO ME!!! YOU WOULD HAVE STOPPED BABS WHEN YOU SPREAD HER FILTHY GOSSIP ABOUT ME AND ALL OF YOU JOINED IN TO SLUTSHAME ME FOR YOUR PLEASURE!! YOU ARE AS BAD AS THE MEDIA!! PURE UTTER HYPOCRITES WHO ONLY CARE ABOUT HOOTING THEIR HORNS!! NOW I CAN SEE WHY PEOPLE LIKE JASON TURNED THEIR BACKS ON HUMANITY AND CHOSE TO DO HARDCORE JUSTICE!! YOU MOTHERFUCKERS ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT FROM THE VERY FOOLS WE HAVE BEEN FIGHTING FROM YEARS!!”

Everyone keeps quiet. Cassie clearly had been waiting for this moment and she has now gotten an audience. “Oh and speaking of failures, how many times have we been supposedly, not I used supposedly in quotation marks here because that shows how stupid you all are, were ahead of the bad guys only for them to outsmart us and somehow win?”

Dick and Kaldur exchange looks. “You know, had it not been for my father, I would have rotted in jail. Oh and special shoutout to the Black Adam family, the only family that ever truly cared about me. Plus of course Donna and Tatiana. The rest of you can go fuck yourselves and leave me be!!” She turns her back to them and ignores them as she walks over to the edge.

“Cassie wait...”

She stops and turns around as Vanessa walks in. “Cassie, listen I know you are mad. If you want to lash out. Take it out on me.” she says calmly, hands raised. Before anyone could say anything, Cassie stomps towards her so-called rival and aims a punch at Vanessa who does nothing to stop her.

Fortunately for her, Cassie stops mid-punch and drops to her knees and begins to break down in tears. Vanessa bends down and hugs her predecessor. “Listen Cass. No matter what anyone else says, you will always be Wonder Girl. In fact you are way better than I am. I do not like the great divide that Diana has created. There are other ways this could have been done.” she says. Cassie simply sobs, feeling very bad for lashing out.

“I...I’m so sorry...”

Vanessa smiles softly. “You do not have to apologise. We are both victims in this. Besides, I told Diana that I quit.” Cassie stares at her in disbelief. ”You did not have to.”

“Yet I did.”

Cassie shakes her head. “No. You remain Wonder Girl.” Cassie then smiles. “Besides, you earned it anyways.” Vanessa giggles and hugs her back. Everyone heaves a sigh of relief.

Osiris who had just arrived makes a slow descent next to them. “Cass, I understand you hate everyone and whatnot but if you throw yourself down there, chances are you might end up worse than Todd the moment they choose to bring you back from the dead. Or if you choose down a dark path now, you might end up the way Adam did years ago.”

The girl simply nods. “ I might as well go clear my mind of things for a while.”

He comes closer to her. “You know, you could have simply asked and I would gladly take you home with me so that you can get some breathing space since quite frankly, you need some of that.’ She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Let’s go.’ She wraps her arms around his neck with him wrapping his arms aorund her securely and together they fly away.

“Wait....that was it?“ says Garfield, earning a smack across the head from Raven. “Oww!!” he grumbles. Tim meanwhile stares up at the sky with jealousy in his eyes which is funny considering his relationship with Stephanie. 

So she has choosen him hm? This whole shit was a setup to make that announcement.

[oysters-aint-for-me]

Other shows have made jokes about covid, but they’ve been covid adjacent. Jokes about social distancing, going crazy in quarantine, wearing masks, getting tested, getting vaccinated, etc. they’re coping jokes, jokes about what our lives have become because of covid, and they’re good, they’re important, they’re necessary, im not knocking them! but!

but in always sunny the joke IS covid. covid IS the joke. The joke is literally that this bastard with delusions of grandeur and a Range Rover trunk full of zip ties and duct tape has covid. The coughing is the joke. The wheezing is the joke. The virus is the joke. the fact that he didn’t get vaccinated is the joke.

And the joke being about physical illness also speaks to it speaks to a very base part of us that we as “rational creatures” don’t like to acknowledge: the fact that we’re just organs and guts. being reminded of that fact teeters on the edge of horrifying and funny. comedy and horror are extremely similar in a lot of ways—but!

One of the big differences between horror and comedy (one of them) is how far you, the audience, can remove your emotions from the presented situation. Horror is when an incongruity is or feels like a real threat, a real danger.

In comedy, though, just in the moment you laugh, you are emotionally detached, you are not feeling threatened. you might go right back to feeling threatened after, but in the moment, you are removed. in order to “get” the particular mechanism of incongruity within any given joke, you have to be able to pull back and understand the two (or more) realities at once and that MAKES you cognitively distance yourself from the emotional reality of the situation.

That’s maybe why ppl laugh when they are uncomfortable—an attempt at making yourself feel emotionally detached. Not in a pathological way! It’s just a thing our brains can do and is perfectly healthy and more healthy than other mechanisms for coping with mental pain. In moderation of course, and sometimes it can be abused to either hurt others or to numb oneself in an unhealthy way etc et, but the limit for “too much” laughter is much higher than, like, too much alcohol.

ANYWAY Comedy and horror have so much in common: both depend on timing, surprise, incongruity, breath, shared cultural contexts. BUT it is the emotional distance you, the audience, are able to feel from the subject that determines whether you laugh or scream.

But in this episode, dennis reynolds has covid, so it is both horrifying (bc covid) and hilarious (bc dennis), not something that oscillates between the two. we know Dennis is probably going to be okay (knock on wood), and unlike it would be in almost every other sitcom, the show very rarely asks us to have any sympathy for the character. over the years we’ve been invited laughed AT him, not WITH him; in a lot of ways (and according to Glenn howerton himself!) dennis reynolds represents the worst of America: white, male, privileged but won’t admit it, predatory, overconfident, selfish, insecure, prone to rage and violence but also a total coward when the going gets tough. and he’s so fucking oblivious to his awfulness. he doesn’t learn his lesson. despite the woobifying we do here on tumblr, I don’t think any of us are under the illusion that Dennis is a good person that deserves total forgiveness for his behavior. Sure, we love him and can have sympathy for him, which we explore through fan-made content, but within the confines of the show itself…we don’t just love to hate him. it’s flat out fun to hate him.

Therefore, being given the chance to feel scared about the visceral physical horribleness of what covid does to the body, which has been haunting all the oblique jokes about covid but hasnt been fully addressed, WHILE having those physical symptoms happen to dennis “been there? not physically” reynolds from it’s always sunny in philadelphia…it gives us some much needed distance from such an embodied horrifying fear that we’ve been holding for almost two years. the actual physical illness of covid is the one thing we’ve had trouble laughing about. sunny has at least tried to give us the opportunity, one that i think was successful.

and I would never say it to their faces but I don’t think many people other than Glenn howerton and kaitlin Olsen could have pulled this off.

Is this at all coherent

I haven’t gotten my thoughts together yet but I think maybe always sunny is doing something very unique and potentially like. healing? re: dennis reynolds having covid. feels different, feels like something that no other show that has addressed covid has done or even tried to do. I had such a weird feeling watching it, like I wanted to scream and laugh and cry at the same time and I wouldn’t say it was “fun” but I think it was cathartic? idk something about being given a chance to laugh at the bastard virus that has plagued us for the past two years by letting it plague television’s greatest bastard man……..hmm

[mattchase82]

Sister Josefa Menéndez Revelations of hell

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Jesus Christ often appeared during the years 1921-22 and 23 to Sister Josefa Menéndez, a nun from the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

His Memoirs are published in a book of more than 500 pages entitled: The Way of Divine Love. This book explains Jesus' commitment to save our souls by encountering His love before "the approach of the last days of the world."

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In the life of Sister Josefa, a very rare phenomenon took place in the life of the saints: knowing in their own flesh the sufferings of hell. God allowed the devil to bring her down to hell. There, he spends long hours, sometimes an entire night, in an indescribable agony. Although she was taken to hell more than a hundred times, it seems to her that each time is the first, and each one seems as long as an eternity. It supports all the tortures of hell, with only one exception: hatred of God. It was not the least of these torments to hear the barren confessions of the damned, their cries of hate, pain and despair. In spite of everything, when after a long wait he comes back to life, shattered and exhausted, with his body agonizing by pain, she does not notice suffering, however severe it may be, if with that he manages to save a soul from that creepy cavern of torments. As you begin to breathe better, your heart explodes with joy knowing that you can still love the Lord.

.

Sr. Josefa writes with great reluctance on the subject of hell. She did it only to conform the blessed desires of Our Lord.

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Our Lady told him on October 25, 1922: "All that Jesus gives you to see and suffer from the torments of hell is so that you can make them known to the world. Therefore, forget yourself completely, and think of the glory of the salvation of souls. " She repeatedly testifies about the greatest torment of hell: "One of these condemned souls shouted in despair:" This is my torture ... I want to love, and I can't do it; There is nothing that comes out of me except hate and despair. If one of us could do as much as a simple act of love ... this would no longer be hell, but we cannot. We live in hatred and malevolence. "(March 23, 1922) Another of these unfortunates said:" The greatest of these torments here is that we cannot love God. While we are hungry for love,

She also records the accusations made against them by these unhappy souls: "Some groan because of the fire that burns their hands. Perhaps they were thieves, because they say:" Where is our booty now? ... Damn hands ... Why did I wish to possess what was not mine ... and that in any case, I could only have possessed for a few days? "Others curse their tongues, their eyes ... whatever member was the occasion with which they sinned. .. "Now, oh body, you are paying the price of the pleasures with which you gave yourself! ... And all this you did on your own free will ... !!!" ( April 2, 1922)

"It seemed to me that the majority accused themselves of sins of impurity, of robbery, of fraudulent commerce; and most of the damned are in hell for these sins." (April 6, 1922).

"Some accuse other people, others accuse the circumstances, and all curse the chances of their condemnation." (September 1922).

"I saw many people from the underworld fall into hell, and now the words cannot even describe their horrible and frightening screams: 'Condemned forever ... I was deceiving myself ... I am lost ... I'M HERE FOREVER '. "

"Today I saw a vast number of people fall into the burning abyss ... They seemed like some living people accustomed to the pleasures of the world, and a demon shouted loudly:" The world is ripe for me ... I know that the best way to to gain control of souls is to increase their desire for fun and enjoyment of pleasures ... "Put me first ..."; "Me before the others ..."; "And above all nothing of humility for me, but let me enjoy at my leisure ...". This kind of words ensures my victory ... and they throw themselves into crowds at the bottom of hell. " (October 4, 1922)

"Today," Josefa writes, "I did not go down to hell, but was transported to a place where everything was dark, but in the center there was a huge and frightening red fire. They left me motionless and I could not make even the slightest movement. Around me there were seven or eight people, their black bodies were naked, and I could see them only by the reflections of the fire. They were sitting and talking. "One devil said to another:" We have to be very careful not to be perceived. We could be easily discovered. " "The devil responded:" Insinuate yourself by ensuring that carelessness and neglect take over them, but keeping you in the shade, so that they don't discover you ... gradually, they will become more and more careless, indifferent to good and evil, without any compassion or love, and you will be able to incline them towards evil. Tempt these others with ambition, with love for themselves, that they seek nothing more than their own interest, WITH ACQUIRING RICHES WITHOUT WORKING ... legally or not. Excite those others towards sensuality and love of pleasure. Let vice blind them. "(Here they used obscene words)

"And with the rest ... explore their hearts ... so you will know their inclinations ... make them love passionately ... Act without any scruples ... do not rest ... do not have mercy ... The world must go towards condemnation ... and may souls not escape me.

From time to time, Satan's disciples replied: "We are your slaves ... we will work tirelessly. Yes, many fight against us, but we will work night and day. We know your power!" They talked all at once, and the one that I understood to be Satan used frightening words. In the distance, I could hear a party bustle, the clink of the glasses, and shouted: Let them gather themselves in their meals! That will make everything easier for us. Let them go to their banquets. The love of pleasure is the door through which you will take possession of them ... And those souls will no longer be able to escape from me. "

He added such horrible things that they could never be written or said. Then, as if submerged in a whirl of smoke, they vanished. (February 3, 1923)

The demon shouted rabidly for a soul that escaped him: "Fill your soul with fear, lead it to despair. If she puts her trust in the mercy of that ... (here she used blasphemous words against Our Lord) all will be lost But no, take her to despair, don't leave her for a moment, above all, make her despair ... "Then hell resonated with frantic screams, and when the devil finally threw me out of the abyss, he He threatened me. Among other things, he said: "Is it possible that such small creatures have more power than me, that I am so powerful? ... I must mask my presence, work in the shadow, any corner will be good to tempt them ... whispering to a heard ... on the sheets of a book ... under a bed ... Some souls don't pay attention to me,

Josefa, on his return from hell, noticed the following:

"I saw several souls fall into hell, and among them was a fifteen-year-old girl, cursing her parents for not telling her about the fear of God or for telling her that there was a place like hell. Her life was very short, she said, but full of sin, because she granted him to the limit everything that his body and his passions asked him in the way of his self-satisfaction, especially he had read bad books. " (March 22, 1923)

"The sounds of confusion and blasphemies do not cease for a single moment. A foul smell suffocates and corrupts everything; it is like burning of rotting meat, mixed with tar and sulfur ... a mixture to which nothing on Earth can be comparable. " (September 4, 1922).

Again, he writes: "Souls were cursing the vocation they had received, but not followed ... the vocation they had lost, because they had no will to live a hidden and mortified life ..." (March 18, 1922 )

I began to hear many screams, and immediately I found myself in a very narrow hallway. On the wall there are some niches, where there is a lot of smoke but no flame, and a very bad smell. I cannot say what is heard, all kinds of profanity and impure and terrible words. Some curse their body ... others curse their father or mother ... others reproach themselves for not taking advantage of such an occasion or such light to abandon sin. Anyway, it is a tremendous confusion of screams of rage and despair. I went through a corridor that had no end, and then, giving me a blow in the stomach, which made me like to bend and shrink, they put me in one of those niches, where it seemed that they pressed me with burning plates and like very needles fat by the body, that burned me. In front of me and near, I had souls that cursed and blasphemed me. It is what made me suffer the most ... but what has no comparison with any torment is the anguish felt by the soul, looking away from God. "It seemed to me that I spent many years in this hell, although it was only six or seven hours ... Then I felt that they were pulling me again, and after putting myself in a very dark place, the demon, giving me like a kick let me free I cannot say what my soul felt when I realized that I was alive and that I could still love God. "To be able to rid myself of this hell and although I am so afraid to suffer, I do not know what I am willing to do. I see very clearly that everything in the world is nothing compared to the pain of the soul that can not love, because there you breathe only hate and desire for the destruction of souls. "(...)" When I enter Hell, I hear like screams of rage and joy, because there is one more soul that participates in its torments. I do not remember then having been there other times, but it seems to me that it is the first time. I also believe that it must be for all eternity and that makes me suffer a lot, because I remember that I knew and loved God, that I was in Religion, that he has given me many thanks and many means to save me ... What have I done to lose so much good ...? How have I been so blind ...? And there is no choice ...! I also remember my Communions, that I was a novice, but what torments me most is that I loved Our Lord very much ... I knew him and he was all my treasure ... I lived only for Him ... How can I now live without him...? Without loving it ..., always hearing these blasphemies and this hate ... I feel that the soul is oppressed and drowned ...

More than once he witnessed the fierce struggle of the devil to snatch the divine mercy such or such a soul he already believed his. Then Josefa's sufferings enter, it seems, in God's plans, as a ransom for these poor souls, who will owe him the last and final victory, at the moment of death. "The devil was very furious because he wanted three souls to be lost ... He shouted angrily: That they not escape ...! That they leave ...! Strong ...! Strong!" This way, incessantly, with screams of rage that answered, by far, other demons. For several days I witnessed these struggles. "I begged the Lord to do what I wanted to do with me, as long as these souls were not lost. I also went to the Virgin And She gave me great peace of mind because she left me willing to suffer everything to save them, and I think he won't let the devil out victorious. "(...)" The demon shouted a lot: Don't leave her ...! Stay tuned for everything that may disturb you ...! Do not escape ... make them despair ...! The confusion of shouting and blasphemies was tremendous. Then I heard him say furiously: It doesn't matter! I still have two ... Take away your trust ... I understood that one had escaped, that had already passed into eternity, because he shouted: Soon ... In a hurry ... That these two do not escape ... Take them, let them despair ... Soon, they leave us. "At once, with a grinding of teeth and an anger that cannot be said, I felt those tremendous cries: Oh power of God that is stronger than me ...! I still have one ..., and I will not let that take her away ... Hell, everything was no more than a cry of despair, with a very big mess and the devils screamed and complained and blasphemed horribly. I knew with this that souls had been saved. My heart leapt with joy, but I was unable to do an act of love. I still feel in my soul the need to love ... I don't feel hatred towards God like these other souls, and when I hear them cursing and blaspheming, it makes me very sad; I don't know what he would suffer to prevent Our Lord from being insulted and offended. What hurries me is that spending time will be like the others. This makes me suffer a lot, because I still remember that I loved Our Lord and that He was very good to me. I feel a lot of torment, especially these last days. It is as if a river of fire enters through my throat that passes through the whole body, and together with the pain I have said before. As if they squeezed me from behind and in front with burning plates ... I don't know how to say what I suffer ... it is tremendous so much pain ... It seems that the eyes leave their place and as if they pulled to tear them ... Nerves get very tight. The body is bent, you can not move a finger ... The smell that is so bad, you can not breathe, but all this is nothing compared to the soul, that knowing the goodness of God, is forced to to hate him and, above all, if he has known and loved him, he suffers much more ... "

Josefa dismissed this intolerable stench whenever he returned from one of his visits to hell or when he snatched it and tormented the demon: smell of sulfur, rotten and burned meats that, according to reliable witnesses, was noticeably perceived for a quarter of an hour and sometimes half time; And whose unpleasant impression she kept herself much longer.

"I heard a demon, from whom a soul had escaped, forced to confess his helplessness. 'Disconcerting ... how can they do to escape so many? They were mine' (and listed their sins) ... 'I worked very hard, and yet they escaped between my fingers ... Someone must be suffering and repairing for them. "(January 15, 1923).

Here is, finally, the full text of Sister Josefa's notes on "The Hell of Consecrated Souls". (Biography: Chapter VII, September 4, 1922).

"The meditation of the day was about the Particular Judgment of religious souls. I could not free my mind from this thought, despite the oppression I felt. Suddenly, I felt surrounded and oppressed by a great weight, so that in an instant, I saw more clearly than ever before how wonderful is the holiness of God and His abhorrence of sin. "I saw in an instant my entire life, from my first confession to this day. Everything was vividly presented to me: my sins, the graces I received, the day I entered into religion, my novice dresses, my first vows, my spiritual readings, my prayer times, the notices given to me, and all the help of religious life. Impossible to describe the confusion and shame that a soul feels at that moment, when it realizes: 'everything is lost,

As in her previous descents to hell, Sister Josefa never accused herself of any specific sin that could have led her to such a calamity. Our Lord had only projected that she felt the consequences, if she had deserved such punishment. Sr. Josefa wrote: "Instantly, I found myself in hell, but not dragged there as before. The soul rushes there herself, as if it were to hide from God and thus be free to hate and curse him.

because - and I have written about this before - even though bodily forms were not visible, torments felt as if they were present, and souls recognize each other. One said: 'Hello, you here? And are you like us? We were free to take those votes or not ... but no! ' And they cursed their vows.

Some souls cursed the vocation they had received, and to which they had not reciprocated ... the vocation they had lost because they had not wanted to live humble and mortified ... On one occasion, when I was in hell, I saw a large number of priests , religious and nuns, cursing their vows, their orders, their superiors and everything that had given them the Light and grace they had lost. I also saw some prelates. One accused himself of having used the property belonging to the Church illegally. (September 28, 1922)

The priests threw curses against their tongues, which they had consecrated; against his fingers, which had carried the sacred Body of Our Lord; against the acquittals they had granted; while they were losing their own souls; and against the occasion for which they had fallen into hell. (April 6, 1922)

A priest said: "I swallow poison because I used money that was not mine ... the money they gave me for the masses I did not offer." Another said that he had belonged to a secret society that had betrayed the Church and religion. And that he had been bribed to commit all kinds of terrible desecration and sacrilege. And another said that he had been condemned for attending obscene amusements, after which he should not have celebrated Mass ... and that he had spent about seven years like that. "I felt all this as before, and although these tortures were terrifying, they would be bearable if the soul were at peace. But it suffers indescribably. Until now, when I went down to hell, I thought I had been condemned for abandoning religious life. But this time it was different. He wore a special brand, a sign that I was a religious, a soul that had known and loved God, and there were others who bore the same sign. I cannot say how I recognized it, perhaps in the special way of insulting them with the treatment of evil spirits and other condemned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. perhaps in the special way of insulting them that they were treated by evil spirits and other damned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. perhaps in the special way of insulting them that they were treated by evil spirits and other damned souls. There were also many priests there. This particular suffering I am not able to explain. It was much more different than what I had experienced on other occasions, because if the souls of those who live in the world suffer terribly, infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse. infinitely worse are the torments of the religious. Incessantly, the three words, Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, are printed on the soul with sharp remorse.

"Poverty: you were free and you promised! Why, then, did you seek that comfort? Why did you take that thing that did not belong to you? Why did you give that pleasure to your body? Why did you allow yourself to dispose of the property? of the community? Didn't you know that you no longer had the right to own anything, that you had freely renounced the use of those things? ... Why did you murmur when there was nothing for you, or when you imagined worse treaty than the others? ? Why?

"Chastity: you yourself made that vow freely and with full knowledge of its implications ... you forced yourself ... you wanted it ... and how did you observe it? If so, why didn't you stay where it would have been It is lawful for you to grant you pleasures and joy? "And the tortured soul responds: 'Yes, I made those vows; I was free ... I could not have voted, but I did it and I was free ... 'What words can express the martyrdom of such remorse? "writes Sr. Josefa," and all the time the imprecations and insults of other souls Damned continue.

"Obedience: didn't you completely commit to obeying the Rule and your Superiors? Why, then, did you judge the orders that were given to you? Why did you disobey the Rule? Why did you dispense with community life? Remember how sweet it was the Rule ... and you didn't keep it ... and now, "satanic voices shout," you have to obey us not only for a day or a year, or a century, but forever and ever, for all eternity. ... It's your own work ... you were free.

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"The soul constantly remembers how he had chosen God for himself as his Husband, and that once he loved Him above all things ... that for Him he had renounced the most legitimate pleasures and everything he considered most dear on earth, that at the beginning of his religious life he had felt all the purity, sweetness and strength of this divine Love, and that by an untidy passion ... he must now eternally hate the God he had chosen to love. "This forced hatred is a torment devourer that consumes the soul, no joy of the past can bring even the slightest relief.

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"One of his greatest torments is shame," adds Sr. Josefa. "It seems to her that all the damned around her continually mock her saying: 'That whoever was lost never had the help you enjoyed would not be a surprise ... but you ... what did you lack? You, that you lived in the King's palace ... that you celebrated at the table of the elect. '

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"Everything I have written," he concludes, "is nothing but a shadow of what the soul suffers, because words cannot express such frightening torments." (September 4, 1922).