#AND when the worst DOESN'T happen then it's like a reward ^^

[dan-crimes]

In reference to my last post, not to be a DOWNER or anything but the way my brain works is it focuses on bad memories like here and there I'll look back and be like Yeah there were some fun times I had but just KNOW you wouldn't ever wanna go back to THAT because of This and That and That and THIS which I have no issue with cuz it would be impossible for me to go back to that anyway lmao

It works both ways tho my bad memories also get attacked by positive ones we find a balance <3

[yojeongin]

this night has opened my eyes | j.jh

→sister’s fiancé!jaehyun x f!reader

genre: smut, angst, close proximity attraction, forbidden affairs, 80s au, and familial relationships study

synopsis: grief hits everyone differently, especially when so close to a major "once in a lifetime" event. you try to not judge everyone's character but how can you not when emotions are conflicting and it doesn't help that your sister's fiancé is the only one helping you cope.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! generational trauma, mentions of child emotional neglect, grief, cheating, smoking, alcohol consumption, emotional repression (minor memory loss), some fingering, semi-handjob, unprotected and rough sex, creampie, jaehyun a lil ooc, somewhat one-sided, lack of chemistry (their lonelyness tries to say otherwise), this one is for the eldest daughters with mommy issues

wc: 21.1k+ || anthology masterlist || soundtrack || ao3

© 2025 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: well I lied about posting last week. I'm fond of lying and worst scenario did happen and I'm posting in may. anyways, tried hard to make them lack chemistry so you guys tell me how that turned out.

This is your punishment. It must be. Why is it that when you’re finally at ease with life, something has to ruin your stable comfort? You swore you wouldn't come back to this town unless a major celebration or an emergency would occur. Unfortunately, it so happens that both had transpired at the same time. In the worst way possible.

A year and a half ago your sister had met someone. It only took nine months of being together for them to get engaged and your entire family knew besides you. Chances are you would have remained in the dark even after the event if the pyramid schemer of your cousin hadn't called you about the possibility of lending her money to pay for the items she was supposed to sell. 

Merciless enough and with no regard for your sister, she spilled it all to you along with ridicule laced in each word. Reveling and laughing at the theory of your sister possibly being pregnant. Interlaced jealousy for obtaining a “great catch”.

You don't entertain it, humming with faux excitement despite dreading the fact that you're now expected to send a letter to your sister letting her know how happy you are for her. Whether you truly were or didn't care, did not matter. You expected nothing out of it, nothing was supposed to happen after all, per usual. It was all courtesy. 

Silence from your sister was always a better reward than having her talk your ear off about anything she was fairly interested in. The matter becomes worse knowing she dreaded talking to you overall, therefore it was a waste of time for you both.

Unfortunately, days later you received a phone call where she, in fact, talked your ear off about the guy she was engaged to and what she had in mind for her celebration. It’s not like she was having fun telling you about it, she didn’t plan for you to find out to begin with. But again, it was all courtesy. Hoping that this would make you feel included enough to send her a gift without invitation.

The call extended for longer despite the long periods of silence on both ends. She had waited and waited, with no signs of you asking what she wanted, leading her to hang up feigning a dinner with her fiance. Truth is she scoffed rolling her eyes and petulantly stomping around knowing she would have to invite you now if she wanted a gift.

Two months later a wedding invitation was sent to your apartment. Reading over the script typeface with all of its coiled swashes, embossed flowers, and the underlying inked words that scream at you to not go, to not entertain this and just send the damn gift. Courtesy, it's all about courtesy.

You didn’t hear from any of your family members again after receiving that piece of cardstock. Not until a week before the wedding day. Merciless Friday. By Friday, life has killed you.

You had planned on leaving a day before the date. You were in no rush to visit anyone in that town nor did you plan to stay long after the ceremony. Like a business trip, that’s what you were treating it as.

Simply, your plan was to get a round trip ticket. The departing flight back home after the ceremony, possibly at the middle of it, or worst case scenario: the following morning. All to avoid being berated by your mother or aunts; with no plan to overstay your visit.

That was the plan, yet again the universe was so humorous that when you picked up the phone to hear your father talk to you casually with long gaps in between his words, you knew something was awfully wrong. He didn’t specify the reason for his call nor did he give you much information about how his fig tree wasn’t looking too good and most likely would not make it for fig season. 

It was quick and brief, that should have been telling. Your mother would have called you selfish for not noticing the small things but those words were customary for her so you didn’t take them to heart. You haven’t in years, you would like to think. 

Now you look at those same trees, nodding to yourself about how correct he was. Branches too frail and crackly, snapping with a swipe of a finger. They used to be so strong, even in these winter temperatures with biting and prickling coldness. The one your mother often caused within you and now it’s odd knowing that’s what she must have felt last night. 

It’s strange to come back and notice the state of the weather. A town usually disgustingly humid, scaldingly hot, and sunny was now replicating your current city. Gloomy and rainy, the humidity never leaves but the disgust clings to the feeling in your chest as cousins, uncles, and aunts rush out of your childhood home with box sets of silverware, easy and light furniture, and china that had not been locked away. 

A cheery smile on their faces, patting you as a welcome while stuffing their rickety cars with your parents’ belongings. You don’t question it, you always expected this from them. The best you can do now, is close the door in their faces when the youngest of your cousins walks out with your father’s broken Atari in his grimy hands.

So young and already so rotten.

It’s not the fact that they are taking the things, it’s more so that none of them bothered to let you know your mother had died Friday morning or looked to be mourning. Or how she had been battling a nasty infection due to the thorns in her rose bushes. How rapidly the fungus had consumed her cells.

The house is eerie and cold; silence was never this stiff. Biting and dull, but never static. The large portraits of your mother scattered around the walls feeling more patronizing than ever before. You can already imagine what she must be thinking about you all the way from purgatory. “Typical, you could not even bother to show before my last breaths.” A scoff, turning up her nose with a shake of her head to avoid looking at you. 

Disgust, disgust, disgust.

It doesn’t take long to find your father in their shared bedroom. Sitting idly on the edge of the bed looking out the window. A usual position, now enveloped with grief and despair. Not his ordinary nonchalance and comfort. He was a shell of a man from when you last saw him. Then again, that was two years ago for their silver anniversary where your mother scolded you for not helping or for not doing things the way she wanted them.

You remember clearly ending that night in the train station with your suitcase. Your father dropping you off while affirming that they loved you despite all your mother had spewed the entire visit. You both smiled fondly before hugging and patting each other’s cheeks. He knew you well enough to leave before your train arrived, giving you a breather and letting out all your grievances, leaving them here and not taking them back home. 

“Hey…” Your meek voice causes his hand to twitch, not turning to look at you. “How are you holding up?” You question, hand sliding down his shoulder to rub comfortingly. You feel his chest rumble, your fingers thrumming against his wool sweater. “I told you the fig tree was not going to hold on until spring.” He answers slowly, eyeing how the branches snapped with the breeze.

“You did.”

Silence befalls, it’s uncomfortable yet comfortable. The contradiction makes it far more confusing on your end. You’re not too sure how he feels. Perhaps you should say something, something stupid or mundane but something. These days you're far more unaware of what to do or think. 

“Hey, dad?” “Hey, dad!”

There’s a clear difference in the way those words are uttered. In the way the voices sound and how they roll off each other’s tongues but ultimately both of you turn towards the door, seeing your sister stand with a cheery smile – a tad duller when her eyes fall on you. The most she gives you besides a hum, unphased by your presence. 

“The morgue is on the line.” She utters, chin turning to point towards the phone on your mother’s nightstand. Your father makes no effort to answer, leaving it to both of you to decide. Ultimately, you reach for the device, the cold plastic uncomfortable against your ear. 

“Hello?” “With the family of Mrs. Y/l/n?” “Yes…”

Taken aback by your lack of warmth, the mortuary technician hums, “We wanted to inform you that we got results back from the police station and after the autopsy, Mrs. Y/l/n is ready to be transferred to the services you’ve chosen. Since she is an identified body, we can only keep her for a week at best. She does have to be transferred for burial or a different mortuary by the time frame.” 

Confused, you turn to your father. His lack of response makes you turn to your sister who looks at you like you’re crazy for whatever you haven’t told them. “What?— I thought you guys handled funeral services as well?” You answer, clutching the hard plastic in your hand.

“Unfortunately, no. Not yet at least, but there are multiple funeral homes around the area that you can contact and we can transfer the body to them for the burial or their own morgue. It just has to be before the week ends. Fortunately, it’s a busy season– Unfortunately, I mean! Sorry… We will need the space.” Catching his mistake he laughs nervously, pulling the last remaining hair strand on his balding head.

“Give me a second.” You grumble, your mother’s lipstick still plastered against the bottom half of the phone. “Have you looked into funeral home services?” You whisper, looking at your standing sister who shakes her head vigorously. There’s no way your father had the will to do so and you don’t ask him but the gnawing feeling of the lack of organization is eating at you already.

With a sigh you pick up the phone from your lap, taking your time to answer. “We don’t yet have a plan… Is there no way we can get more time?” You almost beg, was it not for his disinterested whiny voice while twirling the spiral cord around his finger. “Yeah, no… That’s quite unfortunate, yeah.” He hums, patronizing. It irritates you beyond belief. To the point where you hang up before even giving him a definitive answer.

“A week! That’s all we get to find any funeral services or she’ll get tossed out like a butchery carcass!” You’re not sure if you’re more irritated from the call, your sister’s nonchalance, or the fact that you care more than you allowed yourself on the flight back.

"A week?!" Your sister screeches, "My wedding is a week! We can't possibly do that!" Her hands come to her head, distress covering her face like a wedding being pushed back would be the bigger tragedy out of this. Your slow turn of head and slotting eyes don't phase her but your words do irk her.

"Mom just died and you're more worried about a wedding?...”

 "It's not that! It's just that— the wedding is already planned. Mom's funeral isn't, we don't have anything to look for and especially in this short amount of time." She covers up, nodding like it was the best excuse she has ever come with. Was it not for your father's voice catching both of your attention and his slow monotone tone, you would have finally slapped the sense into her that you should've done years ago if allowed.

"Your mother began saving up for this, months ago. I don't think it's much but we will find out when her lawyer arrives tomorrow to read her will." He pauses, "We will make do." He concludes with a nod to himself.

It's not enough for you. That goes to say there's virtually nothing when funerals cost an arm and a leg. You don't even know how much her payment plan was so what gave you the reassurance that you could do anything with that. No, you had to think for the three of you. Like — fucking — usual.

"Aren't you paying for the wedding too?" You turn to him. He nods, "We will make do."

No. No, it's not that simple.

"Your wedding is in a week, there's no reason for you to spend anymore. How about we cut that off already and you can help with the funeral preparations." You speak sternly to your sister. That desperation and anger lacing every single one of your words.

"What?! No, you can't just cut me off! I still have to pay the catering and flower vendors. That doesn't go into action until Tuesday." It's crazy to see how maniac she became in an instant. Her hair disheveled the further her fingers threaded through it. "You can't have me present my guests beautiful decor just to serve their food on paper plates, can you? That's tacky!" She groans, petulantly turning to your father for back up.

"We will make do."

Are you satisfied? No, but you're exhausted and quite honestly jet lagged. This has been enough interacting with your sister and your father's enabling that you decide to throw the towel and shake your head.

"Fine. But you'll have to help me with the funeral services and finding an adequate funeral home."

She's pushed her luck already, and she knows it. "Fine."

It should have been an obvious sign that normal days were left behind when you arrived. What used to be quaint mornings in this town were now loud and obnoxious. Things were different in a sense that you had not expected. The blaring of a nightstand alarm transformed into an irritating screech of the fire alarm calling your name over and over to turn it off. Bike bells from the paperboy calling for the daily paper were now incessant honks tattle-telling on the neighborhood boys that kicked balls at whatever car was left outside the garage.

Whether your body wanted it or not, you pushed off the mattress that was once your safe haven. Now it was hard as rock and the cause of your aching muscles that wept with every step down the stairs. Your mother’s penetrative glare through all those portraits adding onto your pain. 

Upon hearing your steps, your father turns with a blank look on his face but an apology in his eyes. You let out a sigh and a reassuring smile on your lips, turning off the stove and moving the pan away. “I burnt the eggs.” He utters monotonously, each word spoken with every step you take towards the fire alarm. “A coward egg. Preferring to burn than to be eaten. It’s okay, the next one will be brave.” You think you can see a smile on his face although blocked by the fabric of your pajamas and sprawled hair. 

“Those damn kids, running around the street when cars are leaving for church.” Your sister had interrupted any sense of tranquility (if any) with complaints. Her eyebrows furrowed and a frown on her face that becomes teasing when she sees you on a chair, mangling the fire alarm. 

It’s mocking you think, the way she looks at you. “What did you do? You’ve only been here for a few hours.” And your glare gives her the response she was looking for. Receiving you with a teasing scoff, almost turned into a giggle while she swivels towards your dad, kissing his cheek good morning. 

“Geez, relax. I was just kidding.” She huffs, “Look who woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Usually comments as such warranted extensive berating from her and  your mother. Your aunts if they were visiting but now it’s just you two and your dad. Your catatonic dad that can only give her the same blank look and words he’s given you: “I burnt the eggs.”

She kisses his head, smiles reassuringly, reaching for the pan to toss out the now cold eggs. “It’s okay, I’ll make you some.” It’s similar enough, you’re sisters after all. 

You manage to silence the fire alarm, bringing tranquility for a second before three rhythmic knocks are heard at the front door. Your sister and you share a glance, questioning with an indication for you to open the door. It’s something menial that you won’t fight her over, rather you just do it to let the starch pressed suit wearing lawyer inside the house. 

He’s roughly a head taller than you, lankier and awkward but in a way that makes him seem snooty. He gives you a glance and a muted greeting smile. He attempts to share some pleasantries but you don’t let him, leading him to the living room where the other two had gathered already. Eggs and stove long forgotten. 

“Good morning,” he utters, “Only you three will join us?” He asks, fingers threading through the cuff links of his suit. They’re rusted, staining his dress shirt with every move. He knows it and hates that others do too but he can’t be bothered to change them. Rather they’re his only ones. 

“Yes, morning.” You answer with a nod, sitting besides him. “Right.” He mutters, clearing his throat, fumbling to open his briefcase. “I’ve brought copies for you all and given the quantity, I consider it best we get straight to it, yes?” The lawyer — who you later learned his name was Mr. Chop, called pork chop by your sister whenever he said something she didn’t like — handed you each a thin packet. Swivel designs on each corner, customary of your mother who most likely brought in her own paper for him to print on whenever the time came. She probably did not expect it to be this early. 

Your father makes no effort to touch it, your sister only flips through it, but you focus on every word and the tone everything is dictated in. Mr. Chop reads in a lousy voice that he’s forced to sound vigorous but his constant voice cracks give out his experience. Not that much.

“For my dear husband,” He fixes the stiff paper under his fingers. “You will find yourself flooded by life insurances all to your name. Enjoy them while you remain, it is your call what you do when you think your time will come.” Mr. Chop clears his throat, turning to you before continuing. “As long as you’re wise if you dare leave anything to Y/n…” 

Typical. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

“To my youngest daughter, you’ve always loved the eccentricity of your mother and grandmother. For that, I leave you our jewelry. I know you will do the right thing when it comes to these and you will take good care as I have all these years.” 

You could swear your mother’s doting voice projected through his weak mouth. Sweet when looking at your sister but patronizing and mocking when he turned to you. Just the way the old hag intended. 

Take that back, pinch yourself under the thigh for thinking of your mother as an old hag. No matter how much she’s impacted you, remorse and guilt will always flood you when it comes to her. 

Fuck. 

“Lastly, Y/n. Consider yourself lucky for this letter and your grandmother’s cookbook. Lord knows you could benefit from it. I will not offer you more for you know what you’ve done and you shall live with that your entire life.” 

The paper doesn’t feel heavy under your fingertips. It’s light, translucent, and from the sunlight peeking through the sliding doors leading to the backyard, you can see she did not write much. 

“What about the funeral plan she began? How much is there?” 

Mr. Chop knows there’s urgency in your voice. Desperation and frustration etching themselves across your face while he takes his time to flip through some papers he had not yet taken out. “Yes… it seems your mother did not begin this plan until three months ago that leaves with only—“ he hums, holding his tongue to not sigh and give more pity remarks than he’s already given. “$169 to be exact, not discounting taxes depending on the company. Some funeral plans tend to take out taxes when the money is put to use.” He drops his professional act momentarily to look at you. 

“These insurances… they can cover it, surely. Yes?” It’s the first time your father spoke since the lawyer arrived. Grievance written all over his face, in the way his eyebrows knit like a begging hungry child. His fingers twitch, itching to look for answers in the packet but hold back. As if touching the decorative paper ought to burn his fingers.

Mr. Chop hums for an exaggerated amount, head tilting to ultimately click his tongue. His pen hits his forehead, leaving a tiny blob of ink that you fixate on. “Well, yes… the thing is that insurances take a month to three after the claim. Unfortunately — for some reason — February is high in mortality and it’s going to take longer than that to hear back from the insurance companies.” 

It’s a dead end. A dead end and it seems only your father and you feel the weight of your mother’s body crushing the both. It’s typically you whose hands were freezing cold but now they’re warm against your father’s. Taking them in a tight and reassuring grip, forcing belief into both. He glances at you, apologies flooding his eyes and threatening to escape his lips. Those that you shut with a smile and another squeeze.

“We will make do.” And now you’re fully convinced that he’s smiling. Believing you with no proof or witness, just the fatherly love and remnants of hope he has. He squeezes your hands in return, a sign of compliance.

Mr. Chop doesn’t extend his invite. As soon as it’s settled he makes his exit, leaving the three of you to wonder what should be done. Your father reverted to small talk, managing to nod at some questions and stare blankly at others. That left you and your sister to make calls to funeral homes all day. Alternating between landlines while one of you wrote, analyzed, and organized the price points and deals. All flukes and robberies. 

To say frustration wasn’t getting the best of you was an understatement. How is it that death is perceived as an eternal slumber where you feel no more, yet it leaves those behind you in perpetual suffering. 

Your father won’t explain what he feels but everyone can read it in the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. You’re not too sure how you feel besides uncertainty that makes you scribble harshly against the notepad. Eraser shavings get between the lead and paper, forcing large gaps between words. It bothers you enough to rewrite the words just for another piece to be erased. A cycle that you know you should end but the bubbling ache in your chest makes you continue your angry scribbles until you touch the fresh page underneath.

Faith lets it survive for longer. Intervening through an ecstatic screech that leaves your sister. It gives you hope, seeing her stomp around in a happy dance. Telephone cord wrapping around her body the way her fiance will do in a few days to come. She’s so happy. Your mother is dead, your father is bordering on joining her and your sister is happy. 

“Found a funeral service?” Your voice breaks her out of it. Her wide smile, not flattering as she turns to look at you with faux confusion. That stupid midline diastema was growing but it made her look far more charming than before. Her giggle doesn’t help and for a second you think she’s that same little girl that would pity you when mother scolded for her wrong doings before she joined in on the mockery. 

“What? No!” She unravels the cord, some of it stuck against the buttons of her overalls. “The caterer called back and said they could work with the budget you're forcing me into! I can make this wedding work, Y/n!” If she was to ever touch you it would leave a reminder of her disdain and faux affection. This one, she’s genuinely happy and with no intention to mock you but even when she doesn’t want to, she manages to plague you with that poison your mother created and taught her to inject into you. 

She jumps around, holding your hands with no intention to seize her excited giggles. How can someone be so happy in times like these? Is this what being full of love creates?

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” The words leave your mouth in waves. Lips quiver with every letter and your hold on her hands turn crushing. Her eyebrows furrow, pulling away like a child that’s been zapped with prank gum. She scowls at the ruined moment, “Have you seriously been working on your wedding all this time?!” 

“No…” A scolded child answers, tucking her hands in the denim pockets. “I was making calls too, I just… took a break to answer the caterer.” she murmurs, swinging her body the way she does when consequences attempt to reach her.

“A break… We can’t take fucking breaks, sissy! We have to find a funeral home now or else who knows where mom will end up!” You don’t try to sound so angry or sad. The whine and fire in your voice will betray you the way it always does. “We can’t afford them if you're too fucking worried about your stupid wedding!” 

“Stupid?! Mom was looking forward to it! You would know if you checked in often and didn’t think you’re too good for us! Doesn't your job pay you well? You could possibly pay for this by yourself and leave dad alone.” A leach and a burden is what they’ll always see you as. It’s obvious through the gaps of invisible words she doesn’t spew. 

Despite the scratch created over your soul, you’ve only ever known to cover it with electric tape. It’s sticky and temporary, leaves a disgusting residue if you ever try to remove it but that doesn’t come until you’re ready to fix it. Which you won't, you never do. You never will.

“I am going to pay for it at this rate because you are more worried about a wedding with a guy you met not even a year ago and God trust no one believes it will last.” Condescension and it’s not yet Wednesday. It’s spilled in the same tone she utilizes with you, the difference is she’s never been strong enough to reap what she sews.

There’s fire in her eyes. The same fire she looked at your mother the few times she was reprimanded. The kind that tells you she loathes you with her entire soul and wants nothing but the worst for you. It translates perfectly through her words, ones that make you forget she’s the town sweetheart. 

“You know what your problem is, Y/n? That I’ve always been able to find someone and you haven’t. You’re lonely. A lonely, bitter spinstress. Bitter overall and that’s how you’ll end if you keep acting like this. Mom was right about you. She always has been.” She gives you no time to rebuttal with your own venom. Taking her belongings and slamming the kitchen door behind her while the words ‘naive’ and ‘dumb-fuck’ flood your brain knowing they’re far less offensive than bitter and lonely.

Without trying to dwell, you exit the kitchen as well. Rolling your eyes with a huff as the scene replays. Your mother is gone, there’s no reason for you to hold your tongue, doing that for years has stunted your ability to defend yourself. Your little sister will always have the upper hand the longer you keep your mother’s image etched inside your brain. 

She has no power over you. Not anymore. Free yourself. Try…

You can’t, you probably won’t. Because behind your disappointed father that sits on the steps of the stairs, your mother’s portrait bores holes into you. Engraving every word your sister spat out with far more volition.

Monday: Humiliation

Maybe you were brash with your outburst yesterday. Perhaps you could have handled the discontent better but the longer the argument plays in your head the more and more you think there’s no way you’re going to apologize to your sister for that. Not even when said argument led to you making your way to the first funeral home by foot because she refused to pick up the phone. 

You couldn’t ask your father to drive you there nor were you going to ask anyone else in your family. Those leeches had only made an effort to contact you to ask for more things they could take and when turned down they’d drop their sugar bowls and act as sour as you remember them. It’s laughable. How high and mighty they act but turn into grimy beggars attempting to slither their way into the home for more and more things to steal.

It’s happened a handful of times since your arrival. All ending with you slamming the door in their faces and them calling you the same names your mother used to. Disguising their visit as a form to check on your father without waiting for him to come down the stairs before acting like debt collectors. By now he knows not to come down, he’s always left panting and huffing on the last step when they leave. 

There’s been a few times they’ve been able to fool you. Their appreciation for taking over the funeral plans soothing your soul and causing you to release a content sigh, all to come crumbling when they mention how this was a nice gift for your sister. 

“So kind of you to take this off your sister’s hands. She’s already stressed enough with the wedding, you’re truly an angel, Y/n.” It’s so cut throat, fictitious, and treated like a burden. Each word pierces your jugular and is brought down to your chest, carving a cross over your skin. “God bless you.” The concluding words to whatever game they want to play at. 

“God bless you.”

A laugh leaves your mouth, covering it with your gloved hand as your head shakes. Oh, Y/n… What can you expect from your family? All so selfish and conceited. Spoiled and rotten. Rotten to the core.

The headphones on the Walkman threaten you to stop moving so much, inching closer to snapping off your head and leave you with the sound of cars driving past. Some, confused on why you would walk in this weather and lack of sidewalks. There’s no time to explain that your sister and family are petty. Enough to not take care of your father while you’re gone and the only person you trust to look after him is the neighbor, Mrs. Mimi and her dog Rek. At least with them you know your father’s belongings won’t be gone within minutes. 

Usually you’re not against walking to places. It’s the only thing you can do back in the city where everything is within walking distance and at least the view is pretty. As pretty as skyscrapers and tourists are but it’s better than cracked pavement, rickety old homes with old men sitting on the porch nearly naked despite the freezing temperatures, and roadkill almost every day. Anyhow, you hate to admit that you’d rather see this than the horrendous interior design of this first funeral home.

You can blame the lighting and the textures of every surface. Despite this, nothing justifies how horrendous acid yellow carpeting and neon purple wood paneling look together. Obnoxious in the way that forces your brain to transmit the message of hurling your guts out and nothing would show on the carpet. Perhaps it’s happened before according to the stench — discarding the cadavers below ground.

“Shit show.” You huff under your breath, taking out a notepad from your purse. 

“What was that?” It comes out friendly, playful despite the chill it forces all over your body. Swiveling on your heel to turn to two men emerging from the backroom. They smile acknowledging your presence but don’t press the matter. “Sorry, how may I help you?” The shorter one smiles. It’s scarily similar to Pee-wee Herman’s, far more disturbing. You chalk it up to his growing bald spot, making him look like an aging uncle despite most likely being around your age.

“Hello…” Nervously, your hand waves. “I’m Y/n, I called yesterday about funeral plans.” His ankles click with each other, knees straightening up as his face lights up comically. As if a light bulb actually lit before his eyes. “Right! Ms. Y/l/n, I was just showing Mr. Jung what the plan consists of. Would you want to see it too or do I leave you two to discuss it?” His ominous and strained smile returns, blinking too fast for his own liking and it makes him look frightening but perhaps that uneasiness is what keeps the place in business. 

He doesn’t seem to catch onto your confusion on why you’d talk with the taller stranger beside him. In comparison to the funeral director, the other man is relaxed. His hands remain inside his wool coat, dark as his hair that makes his skin seem brighter. He was a little too pale for this area, even in the winter the sun shines bright. 

You’re within seconds of concluding that he’s an attendant until he speaks up, hands coming out of the coat pockets. “Mr. Holmes, would you mind giving Ms. Y/l/n and I, a minute alone to discuss?” And that only manages to furrow your eyebrows further to the point your eyes may be bulging out. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions. Your mother made sure to take full advantage of that.

The funeral director isn’t told twice. Leaving a packet with the stranger that thanks him before releasing a heavy sigh and rocking in his heels as his eyes mimic yours. He shakes his head, making an odd expression with his mouth that tells you something you know already.

“Shit show.”

And it bothers you how easy it was for him to knock down your defensiveness to snicker along with him. 

When both seem to calm down, he clears his throat, extending his hand for you to shake. Skeptically you take it, never removing your gloves and clutching the pen in your other hand. “Y/n…” He smiles fondly, his other hand coming to clutch yours as well. It feels odd and it confuses you, enough to bubble up an upset.

“Y/n Y/l/n, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” An airy chuckle of finality escapes him, his head dips as he smiles widely like you’ve known each other for ages while the only thing that crosses your mind is: “Who the fuck is this guy?” It’s obvious in the way you’re giving him that same reserved look from seconds ago. One he chalks up to the distance and he shakes his head to relax.

“From your AP world history and APUSH classes… Remember me?” His voice lilts, eyebrow twitching as he recalls. You truly don’t know what he’s talking about and while his expressions are soft, yours are in perpetual incertitude. “Well, we went to the same middle and high school but- I don’t know, I thought high school would be easier for you to recall. You remember me, right?” 

His tone doesn’t falter, he’s still as joyous as you’ve first heard him. He’s trying his darn best but if you’re being honest to yourself, you have no idea who this man is. Your body betrays you though, faux laugh escaping your lips as you nod. “Yeah! Yeah… AP Biology, right?” Your eyebrows don’t unknit and there is when he begins to question himself. He hums but shakes his head despite his smile slowly falling. 

“No, no… We only had the same AP humanities classes.” “Ah… Yeah, APUSH.”

It’s difficult to understand how easily discomfort settles.

“Victor Asuel, right?” While you smile, he replicates it uncomfortably. “The one that got a perm and had to go bald when it burnt the scalp, yeah?” Jaehyun joins you in an uneasy laugh, shaking his head to awkwardly correct you. “No, Jaehyun. Jung. I sat next to you in world history and well… APUSH.” He chuckles uncomfortably, his hands finally leaving yours to shove them in his coat pockets. Hurt, you’re aware of that.

“Sorry…” It’s a dead end you don’t think you’re able to get out of. Charismatic as he is, he smiles shaking his head. “Forget about it, it’s fine. It’s been a while, yeah.” He nods, looking at your face to memorize all expressions. “It’s been over ten years anyways.” 

Jaehyun sucks in his teeth, sighing afterwards. “I’m also your sister's fiance if that helps.” It’s muted and less exciting than the original topic. It doesn’t help, you had no care of who she was marrying if you’re being sincere but at least you know there’s another reason for him to talk to you. 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Thoughts on the plan?” This time you try to break the silence. “Shit show.” He repeats, shaking his head with that same nice smile of his. He’s comfortable and that’s good enough for you. “On three we run out?” You suggest and that smile widens showing his pearly whites. The likes, emphasizing the lines around his nose, the type that tells you he’s smiling genuinely hard. 

“Now!” His hand takes a hold of your arm pulling you out of the funeral home while the entrance bell blares for the funeral director that you’re running out without sealing the deal. Mr. Holmes must have smelt the rejection from down the mortuary that he runs upstairs with a bloodied apron still on, stumbling on the disgusting carpet that stains his polished shoes. 

He yells something that sounds like begging whines, intermixed with growls. All fading when he covers his mouth with his fist, the other clutching his disgusting apron. Jaehyun had learned that this funeral home was the most successful one. Not a single decline for the past two years – of course all due to their pushiness. This will be the first time. You make sure to annotate that on the pocket notebook you’ve been clutching since entering.

That initiated your journey of looking through funeral homes with him. Jaehyun wasn’t quiet, he liked to talk a lot. If the dog was pissing on the side of the road he’d laugh then become concerned for its safety but wouldn’t stop the car to help it onto the sidewalk. 

He talked about how horrible the paneling in the second funeral home was. How the humidity had sunk in and now the walls were swollen. He talked about the light fixtures in the second funeral home. The light bulbs were foggy and therefore made the place look disgusting. It reminded you eerily of your mother. Word for word and it made you resent him without trying. Jaehyun talked a lot about everything but mostly about a past that you don’t recall.

“Do you remember Dorcas Reus.” He animatedly questions. “No.” You respond, scowling at how the whipped cream on his milkshake clung to his cheek. “No, I don’t either.” He nods to himself without looking at you. This time he hesitates, lips twisting to the side as he contemplates his next words.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Y/n.” There it is. Took him long enough considering the nature of your time together this day. You reassure him with a smile, nodding while the words slowly process in your brain and your mouth agrees to let them out. It doesn’t want to but your tongue force them out. “Thank you.” He shares a quizzical look, one that tells you that maybe your answer is too cold and simple for people’s liking but it’s the best you can do.

If he had anything to say about it, he ignores it. “Truly, she was like a second mom to me.” There’s sincerity in each word that curdles the milk in your own milkshake, etching a scowl in your face as you push the glass away. 

It’s rich, coming from a stranger. 

It’s rich, of course anything associated with your sister will receive your mother’s love more than you’ve ever felt. 

It’s rich.

“Right.” 

He purses his lips, halting whatever words he had said afterwards from hearing you interject. He breathes through his nose, back firm against the cold backrest of the diner’s booth. It’s easy to sense what he feels, at least in that subject you can relate to him.

“Why isn’t my sister here by the way?”

“Right!” It’s more joyous coming from his mouth. Dwindling when the nature of reality comes back to him and it presents itself as a deep blush across his face and scorching warmth at the back of his neck. He rubs at it to cool it down but your steady gaze makes it unbearable. “You see, we had dinner with some others in your family.” Almost everyone. “And they’re all busy with the wedding, she’s busy with the wedding… I offered, it’s the least I can do for your mom.” 

Words are heavy in his mouth, thumping against the vinyl tabletop and bouncing your way. You know he’s sincere and that makes you hate him a bit more. He has more love for your mother than you and that bothers you. Because while you’re doing it out of self prescribed guilt and obligation he’s doing it because he actually likes her. 

Tuesday: Suffocation 

Jaehyun was much quieter the following day. That’s not to say he didn’t squabble at any given chance. Who knew he was highly passionate about tap shoes. All stemming from you giggling at how ugly some tap shoes in a garbage bin were. He scolded you like you’ve known each other for years. That may be true in his reality but in yours, you have no idea who this man is. 

He fears you’ve suffered from memory loss. Recalling almost every single event that you two went through in your early academic years but when you hum with a nod and he can tell you’re lying about remembering he sighs and nods, giving you a name of a classmate that he hasn’t talked to in years but recalls for some odd reason.

He was highly passionate about paneling as well. Yesterday, that was an important factor that made him discard all the other funeral homes. Today it was the flooring and after touring two other ones that expected you to give them your first born, here he was conversing with the funeral home director the same age as your father about how horrible things have become since Reagan entered. In the short span you’ve been with him, you’ve learned that he’s comfortable and decided. 

Mr. Nix was no better than Jaehyun, jumping from interest to interest like the fleas on the stray cat. He feeds it tuna and deli meats, the only things he will eat, Mr. Nix claims, emerging from the backroom with a packet and a bag of cookies in his other hand. Jaehyun chuckles along with him and you’re thankful that he’s here for the poor old man would be nothing but uncomfortable if it was just you.

He truly has a beautiful funeral home. The walls resemble your grandmother’s. Pristine white but clean with rinceau scrolls wrapping around the bottom and top of each wall. There’s no carpet, thankfully. Beautiful mosaic flooring with spring colors replacing it and form an image of an angel in the center where the body will be seen. It’s too expensive from sight alone and you fear what it will come to but this is for your mother. Even in death you try to please her.

“I’ve circled the pain points and the discounts amounted. We can handle a payment plan. I don’t usually do that but I can trust you folks.” He completes his chuckle, placing the packet on the marble counter. He turns somber, looking at the cookies as if they contain his soul. “Here,” he addresses you after all this time with a smile. “I’m sorry for your loss, dear. Lavender lemon cookies, they were your mom’s favorite… Your dad’s too.” 

The sincerity in his expression makes your chest ache. He knows your parents, he knows what your mother likes and what your father does too. He knows them and is making an effort to acknowledge your dad… unlike the rest of the world. It’s uncharacteristic of you but you sigh with a wide smile, taking the older man into an embrace. 

It takes him by surprise, though, he’s the wiser to know this is a confused little girl that needs some comfort. He pats your head — throwing a look at Jaehyun, one which means more to the younger than intended — while wrapping his own arms around you before you ease out of it within seconds. Embarrassed by yet another public humiliation ritual of your own. 

“Thank you, Mr. Nix… we’ll see you soon.” 

He nods, perplexed by your response. A sheer layer of horror from what Jaehyun’s eyes tell him and for a second he could be confused with clairvoyant if he was to speak his mind. 

Too much affection in one gaze. Too much affection for too little time.

You attempt to flip through the package in the car while he drives to the flower shop you were meant to meet your sister. Albeit, the weight of the cookies in your palm is uncomfortable. The clear bag prickles your skin, unbearable like the touch of microfiber cloth with the exception in which you feel this ten times worse. They smell divinely, you’ll give them that but your mind gnaws with memories you’ve pushed away with this confection in particular. 

Jaehyun is considerate enough to not question it. While he loves to talk, he knows you don’t. The most he utters is: “We’re here.” while he parks the car, a pathetic side smile attempting to comfort you. You thank him regardless, he’s been good enough to sweet talk the directors while you examine what the plans included. 

He’s been company. Good enough company.

There’s only three times you’ve been inside of the flower shop. Once to buy your mother a bouquet for mother’s day that she hated with her entire soul. Second, for your parent’s fifteenth anniversary. And most recently for your mother’s funeral preparations. It’s comforting how nothing has changed besides seasonal flowers and plants.

Your sister doesn’t hesitate to greet him with a kiss when the threshold is crossed. Pushing you aside like any obstacle in her way. Lord only knows your state of mind for this act was comforting and familiar enough that you smile to yourself, something Jaehyun doesn’t miss.

They converse for the time being, you don’t waste time on flipping through the mangled pieces of funeral arrangement catalogs and looking around to find flowers. Some look too old and battered for the price and others are simply to ugly for an arrangement. Well… maybe your mom does deserve those.

You’re not too sure when Jaehyun had joined your side. You only recall your eyebrows knitting when he pointed at something in your pocket notebook. “You misspelled that.” He utters playfully and it bothers you beyond belief that you ripped off the page and begin from the top again while listing all the flowers you thought were good. He responds with nods and hums, similar to the ones you give your sister when she shows you flowers instead of her soon to be husband.

She doesn’t trust him. She doesn’t trust her soon to be husband.

The grating voice in the back of your head keeps gnawing at your brain, reaching your eye sockets and forcing your eyelids to bunch up together the louder your sister laughs with the clerk and Jaehyun’s voice rumbles against your ear drums. Incessant and miserable, yet, not comparable to the twinging screech of the credit card imprinter laughing at you for another failed attempt at maintaining the peace. 

Eyes wide open, your body abrasively turns to your sister and the clerk. Reaching them with three long strides while your eyes bore holes into the imprinter that’s full to the max with your father’s credit card. “What the hell?” It’s raw and vulnerable and so pathetic that you want to rip your hair out when all she musters is a pitiful mocking-faux-confused grin. 

“Why did you ask to meet here if you’re not even helping in finding flower arrangements for mom’s funeral?” Good, less whiny but still pathetic in everyone’s eyes. “Jaehyun is here for that.” She shrugs nonchalantly all the while she signs the receipt the clerk hands her. 

“What’s that for?” Jaehyun interjects in the conversation. His lips are puckered in a way you’ve never seen and his features are sharper than you’d ever imagine they could become. She dismisses him too. With a scoff this time to express her discontent and it makes you question many menial things that shouldn’t matter in this second. “Last minute additions, don’t worry.”

Jaehyun felt far more bothered than you’d think he’d be. Frustration carves itself on his face and for a second you believe the words spewing from his mouth would tattoo themselves onto his face. “We came to a deal that you’d stop spending on the wedding. It’s too near for you to spend willy-nilly when you should worry about your mother!” He does not intend to bawl, obvious by the red that tinges his ears. 

You don’t fall too behind, taking advantage of Jaehyun’s generosity knowing he’d back you up if things worsen. “We had a deal too. You can’t just spend dad’s money on things you don’t need anymore. The caterer was enough, Jesus Christ!” Her name teeters near the precipice of your tongue but that would humanize her too much. 

Bewilderment becomes her new acquaintance. Visibly upset at the turn of events that hold her words off in the back of her throat with a net of saliva too thick to swallow. Airy protests, the best she can utter before her body has mercy on her and she screeches, offendedly at the gang up she’s never experienced before. Only witnessed through your disadvantage.

“Well fucking sue me!” Her arms flail animatedly, harsh when they grace against both your arms ‘accidentally’. Her mouth is still puckered in offended disbelief showing more than her teeth— those gums she’s not fond of. “Fucking sue me for wanting a pretty wedding as a way to cope over mom being fucking dead!” And so bratty. “Cancel it! Cancel the transaction and take the stupid card if I’m such a burden to you two!”

How familiar, how comforting. It brings a smile to your face and your eyes close for a second. She truly is your mother’s daughter. Even in the way she runs out of the flower shop, crocodile tears staining her tulle scarf. 

Her theatrics force your head to shake with an eye roll as you sign the canceling transaction forms. The clerk is upset at the loss but very much entertained with Jaehyun’s dilemma. The man standing in the middle of the store with hands on his hips looking at the crystal door and seeing your sister hop inside the car. 

You don’t hear any crying, that’s something she still needs to learn to do. Cry loud enough to be heard from miles away to get her tantrum through. That’s what mom would do. 

“Lilies or peonies?” You ask the clerk, a contemplative look on her face. She thinks both are horrid but will offer you both to make up for the loss you caused. “Lavender,” Jaehyun answers for her. It shocks you that he’s still in here and not with your sister. No, it upsets you that he’s still here. With you and not her. 

“She hated lavender.” You deny confidently, that is the one thing you’re sure about your mother. He’s kind and gentle, at least his smile is when he attempts to correct you. “She always bought lavender stocks. Said they were the most delicious thing she’s ever known to exist.” It’s a fond memory of his. “Mr. Nix is right. She loved lavender lemon cookies.” 

His stupid chuckle was the lowest blow, not even the way his eyes narrowed pissed you off more than his stupid affectionate tone. And if he had doubts that you were your mothers daughter and his fiancee's sister, he’d be reassured you are with the way you shut the dingy catalogs and shove your pocket notebook into your purse. Brashly walking out of that overbearing floral shop. 

Jaehyun is sweet. He’s kind and patient. He’s understanding, putting his incessant vice of speaking behind to let you think in peace. His glances don’t go unnoticed by you and you don’t know how to take it. His presence annoys you but it’s also very comforting that you don’t know how you’d handle these preparations without his support. It’s a game of push and pull where you’re the only one playing at his expense and he’s still there. Stuck with nostalgia over things you don’t recall.

“Do you remember Karla Morris?” “That’s not a real person.” “I know.” Jaehyun turns to you at a stop light, laughing at your attempt to emulate him. You smile at him flatly which is good enough for him to know you’re feeling better. 

“I want to eat dinner with my dad tonight.” Jaehyun nods, taking a right. “I do too. We’ll pick something up on the way.” He quickly adds before you push him away. So little time and he knows your habits already. Allowing the word ‘alone’ to die in the cavity of your mouth and expel through a sigh that draws you towards the lavender lemon cookies on your lap. Your fingers shiver with a need to crush each one inside the bag.

“She hated lavender lemon cookies. She made it a mission to remind me every day after she spat out the ones I made for her.” A frown tugs at your lips, received with neutral understanding. “Said it tasted like stale soap.” Your chuckle must’ve been so bitter that his hand lands on yours, letting one of the cookies crack underneath the weight.

“How long ago was that?” “I was twelve.” “How old are you now?”

Like clockwork, your neck cranes slowly. Eyes narrowed in a mix of disdain and playfulness. “I know what you’re doing.” You crack a smile, annoyed but amused. Irritated but surprisingly endeared. He laughs louder than before, his smile as big as when you first met him. 

“Minds change, people change, taste buds too… maybe consider it.” It’s so easy for him to say that it reminds you why his presence irritates you so much. He’s sweet, kind, and patient. Then he speaks and it’s a giveaway that he doesn’t understand. Not the way you want him to. 

Your mother never changes. She was adamant in drilling that through everyone's head. Boasting and celebrating when she had heard a song the previous year that resonated with her about nothing being able to change her.

“Who cares what I do and say. I’m this way and I’ll never change.”

Your mother is two sides of the same coin that you and Jaehyun share with the exception that you’ll always be on the losing end when it comes to flipping it. Jaehyun understands when to step down but he doesn’t understand what it is to be your mother’s child. Let alone her oldest daughter.

Wednesday: Condescension

“Hey! Settle in, dad is watching TV. I’ll be in the kitchen with Mrs. Mimi for a bit.” 

The house is livelier than Jaehyun recalls. His last visit was the day your mother was taken away and the color had been drained from every wall in this vicinity. Now it’s warm and homey again like Christmas Eve. You as well, he blindly believes. Your inviting smile lures him into a reality where nothing life altering has happened. A smile he remembers vividly on a thirteen year old Y/n, as foreign it is to you now.

He knows this house like the back of his hand and when he reaches your father there’s a serenity to his face that calms Jaehyun further. Your mother’s portraits are soft again and there’s noise in the house. So much noise that makes Jaehyun want to sigh in relief. Things are normal again! Please be normal again…

Rek is next to your dad’s recliner chair, grumbling when he smells Jaehyun. He wasn’t familiar with Mrs. Mimi nor her dog but he often left treats for it outside the front door per request from your dad. Your mother hated it and through the pet, Jaehyun could taste the demise you’ve known for longer. One crack on the wall doesn’t always bring it down.

Catalogs are scattered across the rug, TV’s reflection on the worn out glossy covers. Neither speak for what feels like an eternity after greetings, entertained with their own fixations. Your father mimicked the dog’s complaints with everything wrong from last year's F1 championship results. He hated every single driver and team but his hate watch was more entertaining.

“Y/n, your boyfriend is on screen.” He calls over when the rerun for the Portugal Grand Prix began. “Y/n likes Nigel Mansell.” Your father clears it with Jaehyun as if it was meant to bother the younger. Jaehyun smiles cluelessly, “He’s not very good.” Your dad whispers, you still hear him. “He lost the championship by two points, don’t be like that.” You defend in a whine and Jaehyun understands now why your father would try to clear things up with him.

“He’s too old for you.” “He’s only five years older.” “Well he looks too old.”

Your dad’s quibble is comedic and protective; Jaehyun scowls, confused on how this man was anywhere near both your ages when he looked to be nearing your father’s age. Happy on the podium with his trophy and champagne on hand looking in his 40s, only thirty-three.

It’s all forgotten when you lie besides him on the floor, flipping through worn out catalog pages and jotting down notes. It’s a different notebook now. This one is in brown leather and binder rings in the middle. Loose pages of paper, cards, and receipts in every pocket. Occasionally you’ll make a wrong move that makes many of those scrap pages slip out. From that he’s seen a few words that he doesn’t think he’s meant to see. It’s the most he’s received to be filled in on your life. 

Now he knows you like a daily Dunkin’. You frequent the movie theater six times a week (one singular ticket with a large drink), spend too much at Tower Records, and hate going to the mall but love to watch people. "Pathetic, solitary, weird, but real.” as it read from the back of a dirty Pretzel Peddler receipt.

You don’t ask him for input on the flower arrangements. Both of you working in silence with a few glances from your dad here and there. Jaehyun himself flips through catalogs, reading everything you jot down without finding your notes useful. 

While prices and deals claim your focus, Jaehyun’s is taken by the symbolism of even the smallest flower he can find. You’ve chosen pre-made arrangements and wreaths, all white and boring. His lips twist in a disappointed scowl that lets it pass while he circles the things he likes. 

He doesn’t stop your robotics until you pull out the order form. Sliding closer to you with urgency, gripping your hand to not continue. “Those are nice, yeah. But… here,” he points at the first flowers he marked. “Your mom got a kick out of pulling little pranks. Laughing when the kids that set off car alarms were zapped every time they attempted to ding-dong-ditch. Geraniums, for happiness, joy.” 

There, that fondness is again. The one that laughs at you for not knowing small things. Reinforced when your dad lets out a sly chuckle himself, shaking his head at a memory you’re fabricating in your head. 

“I think if we add purple Morning Glories for happiness, blue Day lilies that have represented mothers since the Tang Dynasty and white Lilies and Roses like you originally planned then we’d have good arrangements with a message.” 

Jaehyun is ecstatic, the twinkle in his eyes tell you he means no malice but the seed that your mother planted whispers in your ear that he’s doing it for the same reasons little kids that like to gloat speak about their vacation trips and birthday presents.

Words tussle among themselves in your mouth, fighting to see in which tone they will leave and whether they’ll be harsh or not. Shaky as they come, rattling every tooth in your mouth, “Too colorful, no? She hated blue.” So matter-of-factly that makes Jaehyun smile politely knowing he’s going to correct you.

“She loved blue. Wore it daily after that blue dress you had for our silver anniversary.” Your dad kindly recalls the memory. 

The same blue dress she called you a doxy for. 

Jaehyun’s twinkle dies when he turns to you. He can’t see your eyes but feels the heat from your body radiate. “Okay, write them down.” You push the form and pen his way, taking the unopened catalogs. “And add Petunias in there.” He doesn’t question the finality, not the significance. It’s the least he can do.

Mrs. Mimi calls for everyone, dinner was ready despite it being four in the afternoon. Your father is the most eager, cackling like he hasn’t since the doomed day. It’s nice enough to kill it with your questions. 

“Dad? Did mom really like lavender?” Sheepish and childlike, memories that are not strong enough to dwindle the ache in his chest. He turns to you, forcing a smile with his nod. “Yes… everyone that wanted her knew lavenders were her favorites. They’d give these huge bouquets that would make her sneeze. I always gave her the smallest ones, she said it was the perfect amount every time.” He laughs, ignoring your stare to let the fond memories flow. “She would make lavender lemon cookies with them. Your grandma, though, hated them. Spat them out every time there was any and called them soap.” He shakes his head frantically, more so to avoid the guilt from your glazing eyes.

Forsaken with the clicking of keys when your sister opens the front door. 

Dinner goes as expected, silent besides the blaring voice of your sister talking about her wedding. Mrs. Mimi is the only one to ask questions and Jaehyun gives polite smiles and nods to your sister for reassurance. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about but this makes her happy.

Your dad on the other hand had reverted to the state you saw him when you first arrived. Eating slowly while you flip through JCPenny catalogs for the outfit your mother was to choose. Everything is horrendous and overpriced, choosing whatever looks the most appropriate. 

“That’s hideous, Y/n. Don’t do that.” Your sister cuts off her wedding talk, projecting a disgusted face at the white dress you had circled. You had drowned out her voice for the past hour that it startled you to be acknowledged. The deer-in-headlights look like you gave her only forcing a scoff to leave. Snatching the catalog from your hands and sliding it her way. 

Disgusted, she’s not shy about it with every flip of the page. Sly comments here and there while Jaehyun whispers that it’s unnecessary. “No, mom would rather die again than be seen wearing these.” She pettishly wails, the same offended look from yesterday. When Jaehyun turns quiet and your dad stops eating, she halts her own actions knowing it may have been tone deaf.

“Silly sis…” She giggles. “I’m just saying that if you had stayed you’d know she wasn’t a fan of simple but not quite flashy.” No matter how sugar sweet her voice is, the patronizing doesn’t quaver. She gives you the smile she uses to calm down Jaehyun with no effect at all on you. 

“Fine, you choose that and let me choose the jewelry from her box before you keep them, yeah?” You try to reason, sighing exhaustively with your fingers raking through your tousled hair. And if the clothes were bad, the mention of jewelry was far worse. 

“What?! No! No, no.” She laughs off her feelings, nervous with the confused looks that even Mrs. Mimi is giving her now. It’s awkward and tense but she can’t believe this is being said to her. “No, I just think it’s dangerous. It’s going to be an open casket service and with how the family has been acting…” Her head bobbles with the insinuation. She’s right but you also know her and you know she’s full of shit. “I think it’s best that she doesn’t take anything. Free of worry for everyone and she can rest without having to think of grave thieves as well.” 

You’d think she made a great point with the self reassured nod she gives, looking at her fiance to make sure he’s following her drift but turns to your father angrily when Jaehyun glares at her. Something she hasn’t seen since you arrived. Your dad on the other hand avoids her gaze the way he avoided yours.

He’s always been cowardly.

“You won’t even let her take her daily wear? Not her ring and earrings, at least?” The disbelief in your voice irks her, annoyed that your voice sounds as patronizing as hers when addressing you. You’ve overstayed your time and if it wasn’t for the funeral planning she would’ve kicked you out like your mother times past. No, she simply sighs, and shakes her head with a faux pensive look on her face.

“I want to wear them for my wedding—” “You have two large jewelry boxes for that.” “Something borrowed… something old, something new, something blue. The daily fits all the marks.”

No she wasn’t going to give her jewelry to be buried six feet underground. Who is she to let good jewelry corrode for no one to see?

Your mother’s favorite daughter.

“If you see fit…” Your father answers before you can, eyes glued to the dog that silently wails in pain for reasons unknown to you all. “Dad… she loved those earrings.” You try to reason, begging in silence for him to look at you. To look at you when you’re speaking, for fucks sake!

He’s not strong enough for that. He’s never been strong for anything related to your mother. Mustering only the art of shaking his hand to settle things down. “It would be lovely to see either of you wear them… It so happens your mother wants her to have them. They are hers now to decide their faith.” The heaviness of his voice is heartbreaking and it turns your mind to sludge. The toxic kind that evaporates and poisons the entire universe if it’s let out. Like fungal spores.

“Even dad knows best.” Your sister throws the rock that decidedly let out that venom and for their own good you shake your own thoughts away, fingernails clinging to the cushion as you push your chair away. Your father’s disappointment on your sister matters no more, he still made his choice to enable her choices. He’s a coward as much as Jaehyun that only offers apologetic looks.

“Yes… Excuse me then, I’ll go make some calls.” You utter with your father’s monotonous voice. He winces hearing the similarities and the sound of your steps. A coward. He knows he’s a coward but will do nothing about it. He’s lived too long this way.

You don’t know how long time passes, all you know is your nose won’t stop being stuffy and your eyes are trying to force out tears that won’t come. Making you feel like the worst daughter to ever exist. 

It’s useless to try to cry, groaning out of frustration and taking the pack of cigarettes you bought a few days ago when you felt the same way. Making your way out your room to chip a piece of paint from your mother’s hallway portraits on the way downstairs towards the backyard. 

A fluorescent blue that was always calming as a child illuminates the pool. Moonlight makes it more soothing and it reminds you of the times you spent your summers as toddlers swimming with your sister and father at night because that’s the only times you'd see him in those days. 

The days when your sister inherently loved you. 

The memory fades away with the smoke you exhale, trying to cling with no avail after the sigh that follows right after.

“Mind if I have one?” Jaehyun’s soothingly grating voice cranes your neck. The sound of the sliding doors keeps you grounded. Tossing the box his way to catch, with a box of matches. He manages to catch the larger box while the matches recoil in his grasp, jumping into the pool. 

A bummer, you really liked the iconography in the back.

“Sorry…” He sighs, scolded with the look you give him when you stand up from your crouching position. Connecting your lit cigarette with his. The proximity to his face lets you see the small details you hadn’t noticed this entire time. His eyes are darker than you remember. They’re nice, they’re warm. You like them…

Jaehyun had been inhaling deeply during the transaction, heavily letting it out in the form of smoke when he thanked you. A good distance between you both that transcends into a comfortable silence; cigarettes racing among each other to see which one burns the fastest. 

Ironically, his does, leaving him with nothing else to concentrate on besides what he has been thinking about telling you all afternoon. He licks his lower lip, looking between you, the conch shell ashtray that looks too familiar, the pool, and you again. His eyes tracing over that pattern to put off the remaining bud. 

“I’ll talk to her. About the jewelry. Don’t worry.” He nods like he’s doing you a favor. The last bit of cigarette burning away with the stare you give him. Exuding energy that makes your cigarette burn faster and force the smoke to frantically leave. 

“Can we not?” Irritated was the tone of your voice that made him wince and cower away. “I’m sorry.” He offers and he truly is but the awkwardness eats him away. He’s like a child trying to bond with their cool older neighbor that pays them no mind and finds them annoying.

“Everyone just seems to know her more than I do, it’s pathetic.” You derail, it’s whiny and peevish like your sister’s tone. “Does it fully bother you?” He questions, weighing the similarities. “It does for now but I think once I go back, I won’t care again.” Your lips purse, humming contemplatively. He mimics yours expressions and sounds, nodding as a difference. “Count your days then.”

Not much has made you laugh but this does, showing him a smile he hasn’t seen in days. “It sounds like a threat.” You joke, he follows with a chuckle and a grin, “It is. But a threat to not think too much about it.” 

He knows how to kill the mood.

“It’s my mom’s funeral, how can I not?” You’re irked. He knows he’s irked you once again and he yearns to know when he should stop. It’s overbearing and tiring for him to keep fucking up but he doesn’t know when to stop talking. 

“I didn't mean it like that, I’m sorry… That was too aloof on my part, I'm sorry.” He begs, eyebrows knitted looking at you. His eyes are still dark but hurt unlike earlier.

“I don't know how to take it either, Jaehyun.” You grumble, standing up from your spot, putting the cigarette bud off on the delicate shell that cracks with the heat. The silence surrounding both isn���t comfortable like it was only a few minutes ago. It’s tense and intoxicating, filling his lungs with tar making them heavy and he knows he can’t stay here for longer.

“Her wedding outfit. What she was going to wear for our wedding. You should choose that.” It sounds strange, ‘our wedding’ like he’s talking about his and your wedding not his and your sister’s wedding. You go stiff at the thought, it’s too intimate and immoral. It’s you now that needs to get out of there before you let the repression do or say anything stupid. 

Your hands tingle when they clasp onto the sliding door handle, his gaze on your turned back holding you in place. You’re sure neither of you know what either want but whatever you’re feeling shouldn’t be there. A goodnight is polite, better than bye yet neither wants to leave your cold lips aching for warmth. No, rather you slide the door open leaving him behind.

Between your own, your mother’s ghost’s, and your father’s judgment the heaviness persists the longer the older man looks at you without speaking. He’s looking at you. He’s finally looking at you directly in the eyes with a distraught disappointment as if he knows what you’re thinking. There he knew you’re also your father’s daughter. Cowering away from anything remotely complicated. The words evident in the harsh smoke of your father’s own cigar when walking past him.

Thursday: Pathetic

Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned anything from the previous night when he came around to pick you up. Your father hadn’t either, not like he would anyways. Mrs. Mimi had let Jaehyun in, forcing him to eat breakfast with the rest of you while Rek growled at him anytime he got near you to speak. The dog truly was not fond of him for whatever reason which wounded Jaehyun and confused you. Your father didn’t voice it but thought the dog was too perspective for either of you. The boundary that separates it all.

But Rek wasn’t here with you two at the funeral home, listening to the radio that gets drawn out by Mr. Nix and Jaehyun as they speak about the weather while you flip through the order forms to make sure everything is correct. 

You nitpick at everything. From Jaehyun’s horrible chicken scratch handwriting to the awkward paint chips on the decor. Similar enough and in places that resemble the ones you’ve made on your mother’s portraits around the house these past days.

“Lavender and Lilies… that’s lovely… your mother would’ve loved it.” Mr. Nix’s soothing voice attracts your attention, craning your neck to see him reading the order form still in your hands. 

He smiles widely, laughing quietly until it turns into a sob upon sensing your eyes on him. It’s startling, feeling like a bubble for only you two being created. Jaehyun was no longer anywhere in sight and the doorbells by the backdoor kept ringing melodiously. You’ve never been great in these situations. 

Comfort was only granted by coworkers after you got scolded for a mistake, none very genuine. Or by strangers who wanted the feel of one night with you. Mr. Nix wants nothing of that sort from you, you’re not even sure if he wants comfort with the way his smile tries to not seize. 

“I loved your mother, you know. She was my first love and I want to think I was hers too.” He sniffles, a handkerchief in his hand that you never saw him take out. “Of course she would say your father was but she had been choosing between the two before going steady with either.” He nods as if it was common sense. You knew your mother loved your father but she could have loved him as much as you with the way she took her hatred out on him when you weren’t around.

“Your grandmother never liked me. Not sure why but she just didn't.” He shrugs, lips pursed in surrender. “Your mother would say it was because I made her happy and it’s something your grandmother didn't like. I could see that.”

Oh.

The apple was rotten right to the core from all those that came before. 

“I don’t know when it happened but suddenly the next thing I knew about your mother was that she was getting married to your father. That sent me into a spiral and when I returned from my breakdown trip, you were already here.” Melancholy floods those poor foggy eyes, cataracts forming from pain. He looks at you for longer than you’d like, sensing his desire to know what floods your mind but you’re as hard to read as your mother was, eliciting a chuckle. 

“I gave her one last call to ask how labor had been, to make sure she was fine and when you cried, we both said our goodbyes. We knew that was it. Y/n, that’s the name we’d give a girl if we ever had one.” 

There’s no more wonder why Jaehyun and Mr. Nix get along so well, both are horrendous at keeping to themselves and both know how to irk your nerves beyond belief. 

Maybe this is why your mother chose your mousy father rather than this chatterbox.

Regret floods Mr. Nix at your perpetual silence and where he hadn’t been able to tell what you were feeling earlier, he could feel your frustrated disgust concentrated in the blank look. It’s warm, piercing, and as painful as the ones your mother would give him. 

You’re just like her.

Mr. Nix sighs, gaze dropping with a final sigh, “Congratulations on your wedding, dear. Jaehyun cares for you deeply. Trust me…” It dawns upon you that Mr. Nix thought you’re the one marrying Jaehyun. It brings that similar pit in your stomach from last night. 

‘Our wedding.’

Yours and Jaehyun’s. Not your sisters and Jaehyun’s.

Every bone in your body attempts to not combust into powder. Neurons arguing among themselves on how to respond or if to ignore him. He’s added damage to your perception of your mother, you’re not too sure he’s deserving of any more socially appropriate politeness.

The backdoor bells ring, blaring content for what is being brewed in this room. It’s uncomfortable, disgustingly sticky tension the while you look at Mr. Nix and he looks back at you with confusion and somewhat freight. Eerie how similar you resemble your mother. 

“Ready to go? Apparently your sister wants me to pick up the veil.” Jaehyun sighs looking at his pager, the TV guide in his hand crumpled with burnt edges. He had been clenching to it as he smoked one of your cigarettes.

“Yes,” You tear your gaze from the older of the three, he releases a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Glad this easy solution rids him of the painstaking sharp stab in his chest. “Mr. Nix wanted to congratulate us.” You add, turning back to him.

“On?” Jaehyun quizzically questions, “Your wedding, consider all of this my wedding gift for you both and… for your mother.” Mr. Nix turns back to you, a polite apologetic smile for what he has dumped. 

Neither you or Jaehyun correct him, the latter thanking him with a hug while you wait by the door for him. He doesn’t speak to you the entirety of the car ride to the bridal shop. Perhaps he’s angry you didn’t correct Mr. Nix but neither did he so it’s much his fault as it is yours. Or perhaps he’s grown tired of your hot and cold behavior with the slightest inconvenience. 

Regardless, it’s not for him to care how you react nor do you care.

“Why didn’t you correct him?” He sighs, looking forward. He has that same sunken look he had given your sister last night. You don’t think it’s comparable. In no form is your sister priving your mother of the luxury she grew to know to you not correcting your mother’s old flame about who Jaehyun was to marry. If it mattered that much to him, then he shouldn’t have enabled the old man with a cheery smile and a hug. 

You still can’t fathom that he thought you and Jaehyun were the ones getting married. Are you not obvious with how little comfort you find in Jaehyun? Is it not obvious that you can barely stand him? Or is your solitude too grand that people find it a breath of fresh air that someone like Jaehyun floods your vicinity with his polite affection and caring nagging? As if he’s doing you a favor.

Pathetic is what you are seen as in everyone’s eyes. Even Jaehyun's, it seems.

“I’m not the one getting married. You are.”

Friday: Has killed you

It’s filthy, disgusting, and shameful. The wake, everything is beautifully decorated, making you forget it's a funeral, save for the countless pictures of your mother and weeping crowd. You're not sure they're sincere but it makes your father feel calm seeing the masses of people approach the casket. "She's loved." He fondly claims, a sadden smile plastered on his face.

You don't have the heart nor will to remind him that they're all here for appearances and in hopes of taking more things once home. Maybe that's the pessimist in you who cannot fathom your mother being genuinely adored. The words affection and mother are foreign to each other in your mind.

Besides your aunts, sister — surprising despite her indifference this entire week—, and Mr. Nix, you don't hear much wailing. Your father is holding his breath to not shatter in front of all these people.

Chatter from one end to the other, mostly prayer. A part of you feels envious of their ability to let everything out. Why is it that you have to suffer with the weight of your unexplored emotions? Leaving you to dry heave or tear at your hair when nothing expels. Why is it so easy for everyone else to let things go?

Jaehyun's persistent staring doesn't make it any easier. He's made it a mission to fly around you like a hungry vulture waiting for its prey to finally give out and then consume.

Surely, he's not. He's making sure you're doing fine, keeping an eye on you but Lord, do you fucking loathe it. You don't understand it, would be a better descriptor, but it irritates you that he cares so much that you can't fathom any other emotion but dislike.

Perhaps what makes it worse is that your sister is there by his side, every second. You reckon you could handle it if it was just him. After all, this isn't the first time he's kept a watchful eye on you. He's done it the entire week, it just feels too real today out of all days.

Everything is felt too deeply. Today.

Tomorrow is your sister's wedding. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Tomorrow is meant to be happy and full of love. But today has killed you. Today has killed any positive perception of those around. It has killed your sensibility and everything is nothing but a shit show. A shit show like Jaehyun described when reconnecting.

Fuck, even that bothers you.

He talks and talks and talks about something that happened before college that you have no prior memory of. The people he mentions, the events, the laughter, the year. You don't remember anything prior to getting a bachelors, how is it that this stranger that is marrying your sister knows more about your life than you do?

How does he know more about your mother than you?

"Y/n!"

Embarrassing. Zoning out in your mother's funeral service.

Mrs. Mimi, the much perceptive, gives you a pitiful smile, hand to your shoulder to hand you a warm Dixie cup. Your head's attempt to shake is futile, the muscles of your neck refuse to move. 

"You look tired,"

"More like sickly." Your sister interrupts. Jaehyun looks down at her with furrowed eyebrows to scold. "Drink it, ‘should give you some energy." Mrs. Mimi pushes the cup further into your hand. It's warm and comforting in a sense you haven't experienced.

Despite the bitter taste of ginger and apples in the tea, you drink it. It brings no energy boost, rather it makes you more sleepy but she had all the intention to make you feel better and that keeps you up for longer.

A mother. At least that is what you think a mother should do and Mrs. Mimi was a wonderful mother. Even to those she did not birth.

"Do you remember Jo Josephine?" Jaehyun utters, leaning into you. You hadn't realized when he had sat beside you or when you had been ushered onto a chair.

"No." "No? Really?"

The surprise in his tone doesn't go overlooked. He tends to hum when you respond as such but not this time.

"She was your friend. Always wore a huge gardener hat and gloves with bee print." He chuckles, a surprised chuckle. "Yeah?" You hum, dazed. Well maybe the tea was effective in relaxing your senses. "No, I don't remember any of my friends. It's been too long since I saw any of them." You shrug, the nonchalance in your tone worrying Jaehyun.

Per usual, Jaehyun goes on a tangent about something you don't recall. You've learned to drown his voice out. Muffled in the sea of weeps, his laughter the only outlier that doesn't last long. Another voice joins him but you're too busy with the liquid in your cup to care for what they ought to say.

There's some liquid in the cup. Enough to submerge the small cubes of ginger and apples but cold against your tongue. You swivel around the cup, making it colder. For a part of you longs to be in their place than here. Swimming in a pool of cold water with no preoccupation of the outside world. Being inanimate sounds desirable.

"Y/n!"

It's that same incessant call from earlier. This time you're able to pin it to your sister that looks at you far more annoyed. She grumbles under her breath about something you don't care to hear as Mr. Nix gives you that same pitiful smile Mrs. Mimi had given you. It'd be ironic if he was to give you some tea as well.

"Carriage and burial space is ready to transfer your mother's body." He meekly comments, he's as stuffy as your sister had been. Mustering a nod, you stand up from your spot, not noticing Jaehyun's help when standing up. His hand feels warm against the small of your back.

A huge part of you wants to blame your disconnect with whatever Mrs. Mimi had given you. One second you were standing up at the funeral home giving Jaehyun a long look that for once made your sister quizzical and upset while his hand remained on you and the next you're watching how roses are being tossed over your mother’s casket as Jaehyun ushers you into Mrs. Mimi's car.

The priest's prayer had been the only thing you remember vividly. Reciting every word in hushed murmurs — drowned by the cackling and chattering in the other rooms of the house — while serving coffee into Dixie cups. Mrs. Mimi often tries to take the tray away from your hands and Rek to absorb all of your attention. Both fail miserably.

Jaehyun hadn't stopped looking your way. He tries what Mrs. Mimi and her dog do but he's received harshly. Rather, you send him to make sure no one tries to take anything else or go upstairs to bother your exhausted father, hidden away in his bedroom. The masses of people downstairs and their brewing questions had kept him awake all night.

Your sister? Doing what your mother would have done. Entertain and please the guests. She's your mother's favorite for a reason.

By 20:00 when your mother had passed, she led the novena prayer. The only moment of silence and unity you felt among your extended family and for a second you believed there could be some good in these people.

Of course by 21:03 when prayer was done and they reverted to their constant chatter about stories of old regarding your mother, that serenity left your body once more.

It's outstanding how these memories sound so loving and nurturing. Something you can't recall from your mother. They laugh and cackle about her scoldings. How she'd yell at them for running inside the house, wet from the pool. But it was you that had to clean the entire house right after. It was you that had to make sure there was no chlorine smell left behind.

Your cousins laugh about the time they had attempted to smash your face on your 8th birthday cake but she had told them to not be rude. She had done it. She had smashed your face on that cake and it was difficult to rid away the smell of artificial strawberries from your nose after the jam had gone too far up. The cake was destroyed and they had all gotten upset at you. You never had a party after that. It's been twenty years.

Or the story your aunt is on and on about now. She had gotten so upset at your mother for not letting her borrow grandma's gold bangles for clubbing that she bent them without anyone knowing. Your mom had blamed you for it a week later after making you get them for her in hopes to wear them for a PTA meeting. Your sister's pet at the time had gotten in your way and to avoid stepping on it, you fell. She chalked it up to that and left you to do chores for your aunt an entire week.

There's no way your sensibility can return when all these funny and fond memories of your mother came at your expense and none of them care. None of them will ever care.

You can't take it anymore, rushing upstairs into your room to hide away. You can't say you feel saddened. You do feel a raging heat in your chest that attempts for you to bring your fists hard at your thighs to release it.

The intruder in your room doesn't let that happen. It surprises and annoys you at the same time seeing them there. On your bed with hands on their head while weeping harder than the wailing in public earlier today.

"I'm sorry, my room was locked." Your sister sniffles, slowly turning to look at you. There's a horrific sincerity in her voice that you're not used to. A frame rests on her lap, jittering with her legs.

Your silence draws her attention, handing you the frame while tears flood her waterline. It's a picture of your mother with the both of you. Quite honestly, you don't remember this. It's surprising to see your mother this affectionate with you. Arms encircling your waist and kissing your face.

"Grandma's funeral trip. We went to the lake on the way home, remember?" She questions, blowing her nose. You shake your head, standing straight. You hadn't attempted to take the frame from her hand. You're sure it would leave a branding on your palm, there's no way this is real.

The look in her eye is similar to the one Jaehyun gives you when you don't remember what he's talking about. Although, his is more comprehensive and patient.

"You don't remember this at all?" She asks, taken aback. You want to lie and say you do but knowing who she's marrying, she will just ask follow up questions too. "No." She scoffs in disbelief, swallows it before blinking rapidly. Patient, that's new.

"Mom was ecstatic that week. Rejoicing that the witch was dead and no one would torment her anymore. She treated you better than me for an entire month. Do you not remember that?" She prods, placing the frame on your bed.

You shake your head, she can only laugh. "What has she done to you…" She sighs to herself. She had heard in college about trauma causing memory loss but she had never guessed your mother had been that harsh for you to repress everything. Maybe she just hadn't seen her worse but you can't tell her either. You don't remember, after all.

"Would you be a stand-in for her tomorrow?" She questions meekly. You want to say no, to tell her you would rather miss the wedding at this point but she gives you no chance. "Please?" Her voice wavers, lips quiver. Here come the waterworks.

"I don't know about you, Y/n. But I miss mom so dearly and not having her on the day she was looking forward to is—" She sobs, covering her mouth with the frame, lips falling over your mother.

"Why not ask one of our aunts?" Your voice is hoarse. She shakes her head, pursed lips in disgust. "I'm not letting those hags get their hands on mom's jewelry. You heard them, yeah? Worms for brains all of them." She scoffs before releasing a forlorn sigh.

"Dad doesn't want to look at you because you look so much like mom today." She confesses. It would explain why he's avoided you. "You're even wearing the dress she wore for grandma's funeral." She tries to laugh yet it comes out as a shaky sob. 

"Mrs. Mimi left it out for me…" You defend, she shrugs. "I told her to." She shrugs again like it was the most sane thing to do. You're not sure how to take this. On one hand it seems like psychological warfare on your father — cruel on her part even if she doesn't see it — and on the other, it's the closest you'll be to your mother.

"You look so much like her. More than I do… It would bring peace to me if you were her stand in." She breathes deeply and exhales heavily. She's trying to seem relaxed before breaking into yet another sob. The one that makes her entire body shake and fall onto your bed, clutching onto the frame that's now against her chest.

"I didn't want her to take her daily stack so you could wear it… Not because I'm that much of a heartless bitch, Y/n. I loved mom." She cries some more. 

It’s rich, considering she said she wanted to wear it for her wedding. Whether you believe either version or not, doesn’t matter. Not when she hugs you in hopes it digs your heels deeper. It's stale and awkward but she revels in it, hiding in the crook of your neck as she cries harder.

"You smell like mom too." She wants to confess, but she knows it would drive you away. She'll take what she can get before you leave them all once again.

"Will you?" She voices, pulling away. "I don't w— don’t know." You don't want to. She knows it. 

"Why are you like this?" The question everyone has meant to ask. "Like?" Your indifferent confusion bothers her further.

"You're like a doll that gains consciousness for a certain amount of time and then you're… a doll again. Quiet, clueless, awkward. No offense, sissy. It's just… not what I remember you as at all." There's a sigh stuck in her chest, it clamps around her lungs but it refuses to leave. There's a sincere worry in her voice that makes your own set beliefs waver but you won't break that wall just yet.

You shrug. Slow and unsure of what to say. "It worries Jaehyun more than it should." The bite in her words will go ignored, you're having a relatively nice talk with her to let any animosity return.

"You don't remember him at all." Your head shakes as confirmation. "You don't even remember the projects you did with him." You shake your head again and it makes her want to hit it for the memories to return.

"I pray you learn to trust, have faith in both of us." She hugs you again. It's warm but empty. Mayhaps it's just you, unused to the affection and love of a sibling. Of a family member and if she meant trust in Jaehyun too, then you'll give it a chance for the warm feeling brewing in your heart.

"I'll do it… I'll be mom's stand-in." You relent. She smiles and cheers like there isn't a post burial get together downstairs. Like your mother isn't gone but everyone copes differently. You cope by not being able to cry and allowing everyone to walk all over you. 

On the way downstairs she rambles about what you can wear and the jewelry she had chosen. Nothing seems ideal nor your taste. It sounds redundant and weird in a sense that she's making you be so much like your mother.

Although, that's the whole point. Having your mother be at her wedding one way or another, no matter that your identity is being wiped. Like it would have been if your cousin hadn't opened her mouth about the wedding. You later found your mother had gotten that stinking infection from picking flowers with her. It's bizarre how a domino effect works.

It all muddles with the laughter of the guests, “Well to my sister! And to her lovely daughter, for juggling the stress of a wedding and grief to organize a beautiful burial for her mother.” The crowd turns to your sister as if they knew where she was immediately. Despite the streaks and puffiness she still looks ethereal and content with the recognition.

Right. Foolish of you to trust too easily.

She thanks them, hands to her heart and ignoring the side eye you give her. A look that begs her to correct them because truly she did jackshit for this funeral. This was so in character for her and you still fell. She'll cry and throw a tantrum until she gets what she wants while pretending like she did nothing for it.

She's your mother's daughter.

Unsure of when but the slight grin on your face unsettles her and it worsens when Jaehyun calls for the floor. He smiles and giggles, he's already so loved by the family.

"Thank you uncle, Carlo. Thank you as well my love for the suggestions but I do want to thank Y/n most of all for every single detail she gave into organizing this funeral." My love… so cold and unloving. It soothes you.

"For her delicacy in detail, to the meaning of the flowers, all the way down to her last outfit. Mrs. Y/l/n was a woman with a strong attitude who never took anything that did not cater to her. Therefore, knowing her, I'm sure she would love how today and the entire week was held in her honor. She would be proud."

Jaehyun's voice is so reassuring that it bothers you how much he believes it. It bothers you that everyone seems so surprised and taken aback. It bothers you that your sister seems slightly upset and weary. It bothers you that he thinks he did you a favor.

Yet it soothes you once more and your grin does not go overlooked. You're being recognized.

Guests leave shortly after. Jaehyun had made sure to kill their mood with mentions of you and for once you're openly thankful for his help despite knowing all he mentioned was thanks to him.

Mrs. Mimi and you had stayed to clean the house while your father had fallen asleep hours ago. Your sister made sure to give him his medication before she left. Despite the severity of this day's events, she was still going to celebrate her bachelorette party. Something some of your cousins and her friends threw on her behalf to rid of the sadness experienced. Of course, you don't receive an invitation.

It was just Mrs. Mimi, your father, you, and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun?

"You don't have a bachelor party or something?" You don't intend for it to come out irritated but Rek's wheezing seals the blow. "Ouch." Jaehyun laughs, attempting to pet the dog that growls at him to stay away. He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows before huffing.

"I'd rather make sure you— you're all doing good." Mrs. Mimi halts her scrubbing, sighing to herself before returning to the final dishes. "We're fine." You answer, aiding the older woman.

"Why aren't you with your sister? I thought you had left with them." "Wasn't invited."

Jaehyun stops drying the dishes you rinse, slowly turning to look at you. Musing similarly to when your sister refused to bury your mother in her daily wear jewelry.

"Mrs. Mimi, we got it from here. You should rest for tomorrow." Jaehyun diverts, upset settled in his voice despite his sweetness. The older of the three chuckles, shaking her head, handing the soap lathered cup to you. It's crowded near the sink and fairly humid but none of you would rather be anywhere else.

"Baby, I wasn't invited." It's infinitely hilarious to her. The angered looks and disgust in your faces. She's amused while Jaehyun tries to process it. "What? I asked her and she said she made sure to drop off your invite." He huffs and scoffs like a steam whistle from disbelief.

"You'll be my plus one, in that case!" It's so childlike that it makes Mrs. Mimi continue her laughter, scrubbing the last remaining plates. She shakes her head, wiping her hands on the tea towel. "No, don't worry. This week made me reflect and I'm going to visit my mother…" She sighs, nodding to herself before looking at you both.

Jaehyun wants to say something but he is not one to get between someone and their family so he relents as you do. "Sleep well then." He pouts, hugging her goodbye. She thanks him, patting his cheek to then hug you as well. It lingers and it's comforting to the point that you feel something stir in the pit of your stomach.

Her gaze travels between you and Jaehyun and you both know there are words lingering in mind that she dares not utter. Ultimately she sighs, nodding again before patting both your cheeks, struggling to get Rek out of the house due to his resistance.

Dogs are perspective and they can smell the dangers of the world miles away. He knows nothing good will brew tonight. He knew nothing good would come from you returning. Yet he still loves you more than anyone besides Mrs. Mimi. Just like your father.

Mrs. Mimi leaves with a whaling Rek trailing behind her. His cries are cautionary and she knows it. Uttering silent: "There's so much one can do, Rek." here and there. There's so many things amiss but like usual, you'll ignore anything perturbing you.

It's awkward for the remainder of the clean up. Jaehyun and you share some words but not full sentences. His glances are lesser than earlier but you can still feel them on you when he's not besides you. They're far more penetrating than your mothers and when midnight rolls around and you're both done, the only way to thank him is with a cold glass of wine on your mother's white rug.

You stumble taking a seat before him. Resting against the feet of the couch allows your muscles to relax and scream at you for all the tension you ignored this past week. It's painful to move and your lower back aches as it did when Jaehyun touched it earlier.

"Mom never allowed me to be here in fear of dirtying this rug." You smile fondly, you remember that much. "Now you're drinking red wine on it." He humors you, "Now I'm drinking red wine on it." You repeat, clinking your glasses so hard some wine does splatter onto your hands and the rug.

A rush of freight floods you but remembering where your mother was makes you relax, sharing a silent laugh with Jaehyun who's body shakes along yours with every sip. This is the most you've given him and he won't take it for granted.

"Why do you love my mom so much, Jaehyun?" You ask, the moonlight coming through the sliding doors. That beautiful blue reflecting off the pool into the living room, making you forget that the rug is not blue but white.

He swivels his glass much like you had in the morning. "I told you she's like a second mother to me. She was very nurturing and inviting when we first started dating. Always made me feel like I belonged and it reminded me of my mom." He smiles fondly, "My mom lives too far and I'm not even sure if she'll be here for the wedding." He laughs, "I hope she’s not..."

Huh?...

"Why are you even getting married on Valentine's Day anyway? Isn't it corny?" You attempt to steer the conversation astray. If you think too much about your mother and his words, you may turn into her and wreak havoc on Jaehyun. He doesn't deserve it despite your (un)justly targeted rage.

"It's my birthday." He smiles fondly, his lips stained red. "We met on Valentine's Day." He laughs quietly; his neck must ache from resting against the coffee table. You yourself don't find any humor in the statement. "I guess it was meant for you and her to get married." A horrible despondency in your voice that you regret.

"I meant you and I, Y/n."

You look up at him, confused and somewhat appalled. How corny.

"You don't have to tell me you don't remember, I get it now." He laughs, "Year seven, had just moved here and we had that awful arts class. The one with the loony teacher that spoke about health while smoking cigarettes behind the gym."

You laugh, yet you don't remember.

"Our task was to make Valentine's Day cards for our desk mates. I told you it was my birthday too and you wrote: ‘Happy lover boy day. Love was meant to be in your life.’" There's a certain fondness in his voice that makes you believe it. The detail to his description sounds cliche, something you most definitely had in mind back then.

"Now I illustrate greeting cards for a living." Your laughter fuels Jaehyun's sooner than you thought, his body was next to yours now. His neck resting on the cushion of the couch. "I know. Your dad has a great collection of them. I do too..." Truly, Jaehyun confuses you. You won't dwell on that now, it's not worth it.

Whether it's only a second or an hour, neither of you tear each other's gaze away. His eyes intent on your own, examining every speck of color and the way your pupils dilate, as his do.

"Why don't you remember anything I tell you about?" He questions sincerely, no judgment in comparison to your sister. You shrug, "I don't know. I… don't remember anything from then or you." Jaehyun doesn't respond, staring at you for an answer he won't get. "And you? What do you remember of me?" 

He hesitates, sighing deeply. "You used to be much more jolly than you are now."

That is not what you expected.

"Why do you dislike your mom, Y/n?" He gets comfortable beside you. His glass knocking against your empty one. You can smell the sweet tones of wine in his breath, signaling how uncomfortably close he is.

"I… I don't know…" It's meek and raw, the child in you coming out. "I don't know why she hated me." His expression doesn't change, only do his fingers come to comb away your hair.

"Ever since I can remember she cared more for others and my sister than me. She treated my cousins like hers but me like a beggar." Your grip on the glass tightens, knocking it against Jaehyun's this time.

"One mistake and I was yelled at or she'd ignore me for weeks on end. Then I left for college when she didn't want me to and it became worse… The last time I saw her was for her and dad's anniversary two years ago and she—" The words get stuck in your throat, as if you're to cry.

"She woke me up in the middle of the night, on grandma's birthday — she had been dead for years now — to tell me she hated me… Never knew why… But, yesterday Mr. Nix confessed him and mom dated. That grandma hated him for making mom happy and it clicked. I guess, it's hereditary to hate your first born daughter… Grandma always complained about mom while doting on me."

Your brain attempts to piece it all together but your heart doesn't want to. While you've scratched the surface you don't want to delve into the implication of what it means for your future (if any) or what it means for that inner child of yours.

You just don't want to think anymore.

'Please… Please, Jaehyun, help me not think anymore.'

"You reckon?" He questions, pinky caressing your knuckles. "When I proposed to your sister, she approached me right after. She looked at me, hugged me, and looked at me again with that sunken look she has when she thinks too deep. "Are you sure?" She asked seriously, almost confused. I told her I was, that I loved her with my entire heart and she laughed, shaking her head. She said she was a nice girl but hollow at heart."

Odiously, you know what she meant. "I reaffirmed I loved her, I did… We were looking at family pictures and she kept looking over yours. She said you hated her so much that you left, it was admirable in her eyes." He sighs, more of his fingers on your skin and like a fool you let him.

"She knew you’d always be there but not your sister. You give all to one and they become hollow, shallow, and entitled. You don't give anything to the other and they'll always be there... yearning. They don't expect anything but would love something.”

"That sounds horrible." "It is." "And unfortunately she always knew what I wanted." "I fear so."

You relent, looking directly at him again. "I don't hate her. I just… dislike my mother." The confession is not shocking, it's a given known fact but it's relieving to speak out loud.

"And… I fear she saw through me all those months ago. I was not sure nor in love with your sister."

His confession is shocking. Not because you don't believe him but it was far too late for this statement. "It's fucked, I know. But after this week, I can't marry into this family."

It's too late. It's too late.

"They've indoctrinated you by now." Is the best you can muster. It's not any better than the mantra in your brain.

"The countless meals without you and your father. The conversations: soulless and mean spirited, shallow, egotistical… Everyone’s worry over the wedding rather than their grief – if any. How many people I stopped from trying to pick the locks today... Y/n, only you and your dad are worth it.” He breaths out, an ache in his voice that feels familiar. As if he had been picking at your brain to consume it himself but it's only intoxicating him.

He's so close, far more close than earlier and the wine is stronger. A part of you wants to be sane and stop this madness. Righteous in the sense to not make matters worse but his mewls when you pull at his hair to get him off drive you closer. "Don't do this to me…" You plead with no real intent or sorrow.

“Maybe you were right about the universe being cruel because it was you I was meant to see first. It was you and your mom knew all along.” He whines against your lips, tongue wetting his but you can taste the sweetness of him and that wine. That damn wine.

Your fingers clasp around his hair harder, eliciting more of those pretty sounds he makes and it takes everything in your power to not cry from how beautiful he sounds and looks. Red and needy all for you. "It was you. It has always been you." He confesses, bringing his lips against yours and it's not your will nor your bodies to push him off. Reciprocating that indulgence you've been craving.

His mouth is fairly warm, sweet and dangerous as the wine. The kiss is anything but clean. Mostly tongue and some teeth.

The semi-full glasses of wine are long forgotten, staining the rug as proof of your immorality. Jaehyun doesn't seem to remember them, you on the other hand, don't care. It's not like your mother can scold you anymore.

His hands feel significantly scalding under your dress, rugged fingers working at the clasps to remove it like a robe. Nothing is soft or tender, it's all rushed and hungry. Animalistic almost, save for the soft touches he gives you when a sliver of skin reaches him.

"You're no better than them." You kiss him, his hands on your hips, dragging you onto his lap. He's painfully hard that any move of yours makes him writhe, sinking his teeth onto your lower lip. It's fine, you deserve it and you like it. You'll take what he gives…

Jaehyun nods, tongue seeking yours. He seems to savor the sweet fruity notes of the wine as well. "I know." He hums against your lips, "I'm not denying that." A moan leaves his mouth, swallowed by you. Your hands working on his belt.

"What will you do tomorrow? What will you do standing before God and Christ, promising eternal love and faithfulness? Does that not mean anything to you? Won't shame burn your feet and eat your soul away as you walk though that arch?"

It's rhetorical, he still answers. "It won't." He kisses your jaw. "It will." Tongue laps at your neck where your sister — his fiancee — had cried earlier. "I haven't decided if I want faith to run my future." The indifference in his voice makes you laugh, one that is drowned when he nips at your skin.

Jaehyun isn't particularly soft, his hands knead at your skin and grasp harshly when on your ass. The fabric that made the dress is long tossed to the side and his shirt had been off for seconds now. Ripped from the neck, the restriction bothering him.

It's not a struggle for him to remove your bra, tossing that to the pile of clothes as well. It's his mouth that shows you he can be delicate if he wants to. The way in which his lips wrap around your swollen tit feel like healing pads. Tongue softly lapping at the aching nipples.

You can hear and feel his soft moans around each, rotating after nearly a minute of attention. His tongue is what you love most at the moment. So velvety, warm, and moist. Plush and gentle with every lick to soothe the ache his teeth cause when he wants to be funny and nip at them.

"Don't be a dick." You scold, pulling at his hair like that doesn't turn him on furthermore. He laughs against your chest, the rumble felt so deep against your sternum. "Sorry," He pouts like nothing before kissing a path up your neck to feel your lips against his again.

He wants to speak with no avail, rather you swallow any breath he takes in an attempt to utter a word. Ravishing his lips to distract him from how near you are to taking him out of his trousers. That is until he takes your hands into his, intertwining your fingers with his and leaning further into you. Hard on pressing against the thin cotton of your panties.

"You're being a tease." You joke, mimicking the pout he gave you earlier. He grins, apologizing insincerely once again while pressing into you. The harsh fabric of his trousers was stimulating.

He attempts to reward you by massaging circles on your clit over the cotton of your panties but you swat his hand away, taking his face into your hands for another hungry kiss. He stifles his chuckle, letting you explore his mouth with your tongue. As a reward, he connects his with yours, allowing both muscles to enjoy the ecstasy.

Your hips take his distraction as an opportunity to swivel against him. Eliciting those pretty sounds you love to consume and forcing you to go faster, a wet spot already seeping into any remaining fabric. Jaehyun doesn't take lightly to this, pushing your panties away to let his fingers roam. It's stimulating and overly enjoyable.

How easy the digits slip in, stretching you deliciously to then piston at a set speed that has you hunching over, begging to feel his mouth on yours again. Jaehyun enjoys it, a cheeky grin on his face when your eyes meet his and as a reward, he buries his fingers deeper, curling and thrusting fast enough to make you wail from pleasure you haven't allowed yourself in god knows how long.

It's irritating to be the only one like this. Triumphantly, you finally manage to sneak him out of his trousers, the fabric had been so restraining that he lets out a guttural moan when freed. Throwing his head back onto the couch and wincing with every squeeze and jerk of your soft hand on his sensitive cock.

It's your turn to taunt him. Sneering and laughing quietly when he writhes and cries about how good your hand feels, how he'd love to feel your mouth over it or have you impaled on him. Jaehyun is far weaker than he lets out – nothing new to you.

Was it not for your own desperation and need for release, you'd elongate the sadism. Let him cry for longer about how your hand is not enough despite the pool of pre-come already soiling your hand and his cock.

There's no need for lube, not when his fingers slip out of you and the sea of fluids stain his trousers before pushing them fully off. His pre-come doesn't fall short of a stimulant, so much for such a simple tact. There's nothing grand about this transaction but your bodies know what they want and each other has been written in the stars.

"I don't have a condom…" He pants, a faux attempt at letting morality stop you both. "I'm clean. Abstaining, actually…" You confess, it had not been long since you last had gone to the gyno anyway. Jaehyun's fingers are soft against your lips, his chest slowing down as he hears the meekness in your voice.

"We never have sex without protection and… the last time was months ago." The vulnerability in his voice makes you trust him. Nodding as a response before kissing him again, guiding him for penetration.

He toys with you for seconds, letting his tip graze your folds and slap your clit playfully. Reveling in the hisses you let out. He's so greedy to the point that this isn't enough.

Sheathing himself within you to acquire the pleasure he desires most. It had been so long since you felt this way. The feeling of fullness and completeness. Jaehyun does not fall short with the whines, rather he buries them in your hair, shaking underneath you.

"You feel so good…" He mentions, leaving open mouth kisses along your shoulder while attempting to thrust. His hands reach behind you for stability while you shift in his lap to get comfortable. When he finds a pace you both can work with, Jaehyun throws a thin piece of fabric over you both.

It dawns upon you much later when the tulle feels stuffy and the lacing scratchy that it's your sister's veil. You know it should bother you more, that you should question why it's still here and not with her when the wedding is tomorrow but you don't find it in yourself to care. Not when he's looking at you with an adoration you've never seen and a smile aimed at you and only you.

"You look beautiful." He whispers against your lips, tongue prodding to enter your mouth in one of many kisses he gives you. It's enough to evacuate your head of all these nuisances, focusing on the feel of his cock fucking into you at a steady pace, hips gyrating to allow stimulation to your clit from his pelvic bone.

Whether it's the lack of experience, allowing your body to feel the delicacy of immorality, or he's simply that good, the words cascade from your lips like a mantra. "I'm so close… Fuck, so very closer." You whine against his lips, eyes screwing shut like you're about to cry while holding onto his own shoulders for support.

He smiles, easily wiped away when your hips pick up the pace. Moving up and down his shaft, gyrating as well to follow his lead. From feeling delicious, now he feels like he could come if you did this once more. "I need to feel you coming around me… Y/n, do that for me, please." Jaehyun curses incoherently, his hands holding onto your waist, kneading at the skin but his hands can't stay steady. Rummaging upwards to take your tits into them.

They're softer than earlier. Rubbing circular motions and squeezing when they feel too hot under his touch. Scalding. Thankfully his hips don't fall short in pace. It quickens, his thighs harden under you and it feels like he could give out any second. The sounds he makes surely say so.

"I can feel you ready to explode, Jaehyun." You taunt, seeking his lips and pulling away when he wants to give what you've asked for. His whines turn petulant by the third time. Hand coming off your tit to take a hold of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. The warmth is gone and your nipple perks from the cold and his determination.

"Let me explode… please…" Jaehyun wanted to be more straightforward yet it came out like begging. It's not like you mind, not when you feel yourself three thrusts away from finishing. He drags it on when you don't give him what you want. Thrusting slowly upwards to bury himself completely and pull away to leave the gaping to turn cold before he's back to bottoming out.

He swats your hand away when he feels your nimble fingers attempt to rub at your clit, hissing disapprovingly. "Is my cock not enough?" He scolds, frowning when you shake your head, teasing. His thrusts turn harsher by then, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

"You're too easy to tease." You jest, taking his hands to perch upon your breasts again. "Don't be mean." He winces, bucking upwards at a faster pace. His tongue not missing a single crevice of your neck before nipping the skin. His own form of protest to your mocking.

You giggle at his words, pressing to get his lips near yours. "Make me come, then. Finish me off for good…" Hushedly and deeper, looking directly into his eyes while processing the words. Jaehyun looks at you with every thrust. They're harder by the point you're done speaking and his eyes never peel from yours.

This is far more intimate than any of you had expected or wanted. The feeling of his cock fitting snugly within you is felt ten times more and the friction feels like your nerves are going to burst if he keeps going.

It causes your legs to spasm, arms flailing and weak around him. Every sense overstimulated when you feel him at the hilt, pressing harshly one thrust at a time.

"Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun…"

You cry out, pleasure flooding your entire body that it manifests itself into tears. Louder and harder when you feel him release his warm fluid within your walls. It's a scorching feeling, deliciously overstimulated. Your body is weak and frail against his own, every neuron tingling that it stresses and overwhelms you beyond belief.

But you're crying. You're crying and crying, finally after a week of not being able to let it all out. It's a relief and you can fully understand why your sister is less sad about the reality of your lives.

"Y/n… Y/n! Y/n, are you alright?"

The sincere worry in Jaehyun's voice does not fall short to make you weep even more. You muster a nod, holding his face in your hands while pushing off your sister's veil. It's soiled in sweat, tears, and the smell of sex but it doesn't matter to you right now.

"Are you alright?" He asks again, this time peppering kisses all over your face, holding your body against his for comfort. It's sticky and messy, the sweat reminding you that no matter it being winter, humidity and physical activities don't mix well.

And while your crying doesn't seize, you nod, kissing him instead. "Happy lover boy day. Love was meant to be in your life." You mutter against his lips, your salty tears present with every kiss. Jaehyun sighs, rubbing soothingly against your exposed back before holding you flush against him.

"Than—" and before he can thank you, those same portraits you've been chipping paint from remind you of where you are and who the house belongs to.

It's a horrible crash, the form in which your mother's largest portrait slides down the stairs. Banging against the banisters and breaking the frame into pieces. Wood chips ripping the canvas into large chunks. The last tumble allows it to sway mere feet away from you, glaring for the disgrace you've just committed.

Against your parents, against this sacred home, against the sanctity of a veil, and against your sister. Even in death, your mother's watchful eyes will remain to belittle and judge you.

"Thank you." Jaehyun finishes off, turning your gaze to him and taking your lips into a thankful kiss. Your mother won’t continue to haunt you.

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[namelessgakusei]

Devil May Cry x Reader

EP. 0 Down the Rabbit Hole

Warnings: it's dmc, based on the new Netflix series, reader insert fic, not proofread

Notes: I have like six drafts for Mark and major exams in a few days but I really, really need to get this out my system. Will fix this tomorrow or after exams. Add. note: Gaku of two days later here, hehehe I feel like a 13 year old that writes in wattpad again.

It happened during the night in Vatican City.

Birds cawed faintly outside, as the lull of the night comes to its peak. Statues of saints and historical figures lined up inside the building, serene and undisturbed by outside forces— all while ropes came down from a height and comes down a group of armed men.

The halls are silent, save for the occasional marching of Pontifical Swiss Guards on watch, spears in hand as they round the area. They fail to notice the intruders slipping past as their cameras get hacked and bombs get placed.

A single explosion started it all, as the way to the underground vaults was compromised. Guards take on their weapons, spears, which proved powerless against the men's bullets, ending with them all dead.

Display cases were broken and artifacts that looked like they have monetary value were seized as the thieves raided the vault. A single, ominous sword was left untouched due to its rusty and worn down state, in favor of the gold and rubies adorning the items around it.

"Well, this is awkward."

Immediately, the men went up with their arms pointed at the source of the voice, and out comes a man with a rabbit head, dressed formally and sauntering with poise. "I didn't realized the heist had such a specific dress code."

"And here I came in my Easter best."

The rabbit man grinned, his brooch, a single blue shard, glowed amidst the darkness.

Despite their initial confusion, the terrorists took aim at the creature before them. But their target easily lifted their hands in surrender, assuring that there's no need for violence while also sarcastically describing their nationality.

"Americans. Anything that doesn't fit your narrow understanding, you shoot, you bomb, or burn without hesitation."

The bunny man chuckled wryly, passing through the group with ease and heading towards the lone, intact glass case at the end of the room. "And look where it's gotten you."

"Four so-called soldiers of fortune stealing common stones for a mere 2.5 million," Instantly, the newcomer was surrounded, but the rabbit man paid no mind, opting to focus on the objective in front of him. The poor attempt of stanchions to prevent people from approaching the sword was easily slapped away. "—when there's something right in front of you that is beyond earthly value."

"How did you—?!"

"I was the one who offered it." The rabbit man cuts them off, pushing too hard on the glass to break it open. With a split of a moment, the sword was drawn and the corrosion that once covered its blade broke off, revealing its true form. Glowing ominously purple, the weapon thrummed with energy on the hands of its wielder.

"The Force Edge." Of course, the alarms went off the moment it was out of its fragile prison. "Sword of the demon knight, Sparda." Guards are heard from outside the vault, marching towards the source of alarm. "Ironic, isn't it?" The rabbit man smirked, sending fear coursing through the thieves. "That such a holy place would house the most powerful weapon of Hell?"

"Then again, Hell, as you call it, has always been the true heart of human religion." The rabbit man sneered at his co-conspirators. "You can curb the worst of your savageries only through collective fear and hatred of another world."

"My world."

At last, those men who surround him finally had enough, threatening him to give them their reward or the inevitable will happen. The rabbit man assured them that they'll receive what they are owed as he slices off the guy's neck with the sword. A glint appears in his eyes as the head rolls off. With a broad grin, the rabbit man parried the barrage of bullets shot at him, with it ricocheting off the walls and breaking the glass cases around them, realizing that they're being hit by their own bullets, they stopped, only to give the rabbit man a small opening to strike. With the strength that exceeds human capabilities, one of the men was thrown to a pillar by an elbow jab, breaking his insides as he bled to death. It was all for themselves as chaos ensued. Those who remain alive shot recklessly at nothing before they were either sliced or bludgeoned to death. The rabbit man giggled as he delivered the final blow, digging the sword down someone's throat as the Swiss Guards surround him, blanching at the grotesque sight.

"Here we stand together on the threshold of a new age," The bloodied white rabbit held out a detonator, grinning at the fearful guards. "The age of the Demon."

"This world is about to become much, much larger."

"Well, not for you." The rabbit man pressed the button, activating the bombs planted around the building, burying the humans alive as pillars fell onto them. Fire engulfed everything on sight, with the lone white rabbit standing at the center of it all, grinning maniacally.

EP. 1 INFERNO: A violent heist at a Vatican City museum sparks chaos, pulling unsuspecting demon hunters Dante and (Y/N) into a sinister plot to forge a rift between worlds.

EP. 1.1 IGNITION: After a botched demon hunting, you and Dante hoped for some reprieve in Fredy's diner, only to come face to face with Dante's long dead twin brother. EP. 1.2 COMBUSTION: His "brother" turned out to be a shapeshifting demon, who was targeting his mother's memento for some reason. Extra EP. 1.3 CONFLAGRATION: Unbeknownst to you and Dante, there are people plotting to bring the two of you down.

EP. 2 OUR LADY OF SORROWS: In Washington, DARKCOM gathers a group of mercenaries and offers a bounty to bring in Dante—and the family heirloom that hangs around his neck.

EP. 2.1 Lead us not into temptation: Mercenaries are hired, and a bounty was put over your heads. Enzo still insists on being your Dad despite it being untrue.

EP. 2.2 And deliver us from evil: The fight for Dante's pendant finally starts.

EP. 2.3 Amen.: The black haired lady got ahold of his amulet.

EP. 3 THE DEEP AND SAVAGE WAY: A flashback sheds light on your past. In the present, a convoy with previous cargo hits a roadblock as the White Rabbit creeps closer to his prey.

EP 3.1 This is how you shoot: Your capture made you dream about a past long gone.

EP 3.2: Take Aim: The lady reveals a bit of your past and the Vice President reveals Dante's. You get ambushed by the White Rabbit.

EP 3.2 And pull the trigger: You made some far-fetched conclusions over not-so-circumstantial evidences. Dante's amulet got merged with the White Rabbit's. You get caught, again.

EXTRA EP ANDERS: A man who's just trying to live a good life, ends up getting a visit from a ghost of a rabbit.

EP. 4 ALL HOPE ABANDON: The amulet's signal leads DARKCOM to a run-down apartment building. But is it really the Rabbit's lair... Or a trap? Dante learns his true origins

EP 4.1 Belief and Perception: A recorded message from the White Rabbit tests your relationship with Dante.

EP 4.2 Faith and Inhibition: The demons decided to torture Dante one last time before they blow up the plane. Someone "dies" before you all fall to your death and you gain something out of it.

EXTRA EP. 4.3 Rabbiting: The amulet's signal led DARKCOM to a run-down apartment building. Mary's values get tested.

EP. 5 DESCENT: Grim discoveries complicate Mary's mission. An exhilarating fall fuel's Dante's full transformation, forcing him to confront his demon side. You made a reckless decision based on your conflicting morals.

EP. 5.1 Wrong ways to use a sword: Anders' words echoes in your head as you see a familiar building while falling from the sky. Parting with Dante, you made use of Agni in an unconventional way. Hypocrisy is evident.

EP. 5.2 TBA

[ddarker-dreams]

lock's otome game recs

i received some asks indicating an interest in a compilation of my favorite otome games, so i decided to go for it!! i've played about fourteen otome games, but of those fourteen, only these six left a lasting impression on me. there are still some that i intend to check out, so the rankings may update in the future. i'll give a very general overview of each game and how i'd score the categories that i find the most important in an otome game — the heroine, story, art, enjoyability, along with the characters i liked the most.

number 6 - piofiore fated memories.

heroine: 6/10 story: 6.5/10 characters: 7/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 8/10 favorite characters: dante (ishikawa kaito), nicola (kimura ryouhei) and yang (okamoto nobuhiko)

this game centers around the heroine, with the default name liliana adornato, who finds herself entangled in the politics of the region's three most prominent crime organizations. the game has an italian backdrop and iirc, takes place in the 1930s.

the overarching narrative, while it has its fair share of intrigue, isn't the game's strongest point. it's the interactions with the characters themselves that made the game feel worthwhile. each love interest has more to them than what meets the eye, so it's satisfying to watch the relationship between them and the heroine develop.

the heroine takes a passive role throughout much of the game, events sorta just happen to her. still, she has a kind disposition that makes her likable and doesn't make stupid decisions that has you wanting to fling your console across the room. her characterization changes slightly depending on the route. for instance, without getting into spoilers, she's more assertive throughout yang's route. the resulting dynamic made yang's route the most memorable, even if he's my third favorite character from the bunch.

what feels unique to this game is the effort put into the bad endings. in most visual novels, bad endings can feel like gimmicks. you make one or two wrong decisions and you're rewarded with a few paragraphs. the downward spiral of the characters in the bad endings are decently fleshed out and you can see how they arrived at this 'worst' version of themselves. they're suitably dark and it shouldn't come as a surprise that i enjoyed them because of that 😭

then there's the art. it's stunning, the details in each CG are mindboggling. the heroine gets to wear a variety of pretty outfits which is something i like to see. even in the story's weaker moments, a stunning CG would pop up that had me forgiving everything. i still glance through the gallery to this day.

number five - cupid parasite.

heroine: 9.5/10 story: 7/10 characters: 7/10 art: 9/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: ryuki keisaiin (junya enoki) & gill lovecraft (kimura ryouhei)

iconic. showstopping. a little bit camp.

cupid parasite stars one of my favorite heroines, lynette. she works as a bridal advisor whose ambition is to ensure everyone finds their soulmate. in actuality, she's the goddess cupid, who left her post in celestia to better understand humanity and create lasting pairs. she's a delight to play as.

this game's presentation and overall aesthetic is the most distinct from any otome game i've played. aside from the presentation, the story itself is unlike any of the others on this list. when it comes to romance, i typically prefer them to be dark and mature. this game opts for a more lighthearted approach. it vacillates between being a romcom and dipping into the absurdist genre. there were times i was literally left speechless (glances at gill's route)... but it makes for an entertaining experience. the game's plenty funny as well.

personally, i enjoyed the more grounded moments when the mythological elements remained in the background. because of this, the true ending doesn't do it for me as much as they do in other games. as with anything, this is a personal preference though. i liked all of the routes and found the game handles the development of each love interest well. we're introduced to these men at their most pathetic and get to help them become a little more well-adjusted. lowering the cringe meter, if you will. it makes their growth all the most satisfying as the narrative progresses.

number four - even if tempest.

heroine: 9/10 story: 8.5/10 characters: 8/10 art: 6/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: the heroine herself, tyril i lister (noriaki sugiyama), crius castlerock (makoto furukawa) and lucien neuschburn (kaito ishikawa)

right from the get-go, this game's premise had me hooked. it features the heroine, anastasia (<3!), who leads an incredibly tragic life. she's bestowed the ability to reverse time following each of her deaths and uses this to unravel a mess of mysteries the world's setting is tangled in.

this game is absolutely anastasia's story. without spoiling anything, i loved the approach they took with the time rewinding ability. how it's incorporated is unique to an otome game, which they take full advantage of to amplify the tragic romances. on that note, the romance itself occasionally takes a backseat to the narrative as a whole. personally, i didn't mind this in the moment, since i found the story so interesting. in retrospect, i do wish that we got more moments between the heroine and each love interest, especially in the true ending.

there are more gameplay elements here as well. you have to conduct investigations, gather evidence, and apply what you've learned during these trial segments. when i first read about this, i thought it'd be a gimmick, but i liked playing through them. it incentivizes you to pay extra close attention to the world.

while i liked the narrative as a whole, i do wish we got more worldbuilding. there are hints of political subterfuge and religious oligarchy that, while touched upon, could've been leaned into more to give the setting a distinct feeling.

number three - olympia soiree

heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 8/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: akaza (yoshitsugu matsuoka), himuka (shun horie), and yosuga (yuma uchida)

in olympia soirée, the eponymous heroine, olympia, lives in a society divided into castes based on colors. she is the last surviving member of a clan that can perform rituals to keep the sun aglow. this game is a lengthier title, i believe i clocked in around 25 ish hours (i don't use auto-play so that sheds some time). the story benefits from this, as olympia has rich worldbuilding and lore that's revealed throughout the route's progression.

we get to see the consequences of this caste system and olympia's growth as she becomes determined to realize a better future for the islands. this makes the heroine someone that you want to root for. personally, i'm a sucker for stories that center around a sheltered individual being forced to face the harsh realities of the world and maturing in their own way. this, paired with the struggles specific to this setting, make for a gripping backdrop for the character's routes. all the love interests have problems of their own that they need to address.

this is certainly a mature title, there's plenty of steamy scenes featuring gorgeous artwork. seriously... all the pretty CGs are absolute eye candy. i enjoyed the balance between the main narrative and the development of the romantic relationships, i don't remember ever feeling bored.

ironically enough, i think this is the darkest game from the bunch listed here, surpassing the game with actual horror elements. there's a whole litany of trigger warnings to be mindful of when going through the game's bad ends. they are, as the term suggests, Bad. not light or humorous in the slightest. the poor heroine goes through it. please be mindful of these more touchy subjects.

number two - 9 r.i.p

heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 9/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: minami (nobuhiko okamoto), hibiki (shunichi toki), kureha (toshiki masuda), and koyo (ryota suzuki)

i was looking forward to the english localization of this game before it was even announced ... i'd been wanting an otome game with this vibe for ages. and it didn't disappoint! there are four different overarching story sections, with two characters each having their routes fall under them. this makes it difficult to give a summary since each route has a vastly different feel. some routes lean heavy into supernatural horror (such as hibiki and kureha), whereas others are just... supernatural (like with yukimaro and koharu).

the basic premise is that the main character, misa, is a high school girl burdened with her career survey. she's uncertain what she wants for the future and is being pressured by his mother to pursue a career in medicine. in one way or another, depending on the story section, she comes into contact with the afterlife and those who inhabit it.

i loved this game, i couldn't put it down. the routes that leaned heavy into horror were my favorites, which shouldn't be a surprise lol. i do feel some love interests were given preferential treatment of others, i wanted more from sena's storyline in particular, since he's voiced by one of my favorite VAs (tetsuya kakihara, the voice of scaramouche) 😭... apparently this game is receiving a fandisc, so hopefully they'll remedy that in the future.

minami stole the show for me. from what i've gauged online, he's a divisive character, you either find him grating or love him (like i do). i'm biased but i do think he has the most interesting and well-written story out of the love interests, i've played through it three times already. i just adored the dynamic between him and the heroine. he's petulant, selfish, and a bit immature, yet he goes to extremes for her as he realizes his unhinged feelings.

hibiki is a close second. the most yandere-coded of the bunch, he's soft-spoken and polite, but that exterior hides a creepy personality. like all of the characters in this game, there's a tragic element to him. i was worried about the role the heroine would play in helping him 'overcome' this, but i think they handled it well. it doesn't feel like the heroine's fixing him so much as she's helping him have a different perspective on certain events.

yeah i'm not normal about this game, i cannot recommend it enough. it would've taken the top slot if some of the routes were a bit more polished. i didn't care for yukimaro's at all, for example. routes like minami's, hibiki's, and koyo's more than make up for it though.

number one - collar x malice

heroine: 10/10 story: 10/10 characters: 10/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: takeru sasazuka (daisuke namikawa), kei okazaki (yuki kaji), and aiji yanagi (masakazu morita)

the holy grail. the otome games that died for our sins. this isn't just a good otome game, it's an excellent story, with a very human cast, commentary on issues like the nature of crime, and you're left wanting to solve the various mysterious as much as the heroine does. speaking of the heroine, miss hoshino ichika is my all-time favorite heroine. she's clever, resolute, compassionate, and you can't help but fall in love with her a little yourself 😭😭

i'm not sure if this makes sense, but the world feels very... full? you get this sense that ichika exists outside just interacting with the love interests. she has her career, friends, and her younger brother that act as more than passing NPCs. the writers ensured all the characters with portraits are given some level of depth. i left caring about more characters than the heroine and love interests.

each route is dedicated to working through a certain case, which keeps the story intriguing as you progress. finally, all of the little hints that have been littered throughout coalesce into the 'true' route, where questions you've had since the first chapter are given satisfactory conclusions. at the same time, you're left wondering about a few things, such as the complete philosophy of the main antagonist.

ichika's relationship with each of the love interests develops alongside the case they're investigating, which almost always have connections or parallels to the LI's past. this helped ground them in reality and flesh them out into dynamic characters. you come to care deeply about them alongside ichika. the romance feels earned and doesn't come on too fast, which some otome games suffer from.

if you like otome games and haven't played collar x malice yet, i fully recommend it!!!!!!!! it's the strongest title from what i've played so far.

[galactic-rhea]

you know, maybe I'm wrong, but my interpretation of Anakin/Vader and Redeemed Anakin is that he pretty much is aware he's terrible. He pretty much thinks of himself as a monster even before becoming Vader, he considers himself one as soon as he had to leave Shmi to survive as a slave alone while he got to become The Chosen One and travel the stars (his basic understanding of love is self-sacrifice), he knows the tusken massacre was bad, he knows murdering disarmed Dooku was bad; he knew turning against the jedi and helping Palpatine was bad; he's extremelly self aware of his violence and hates himself for it.

I think it's easy to think of him as nonchalant or as sort of a shameless dick about it all because his General At War Persona was to be jokey and pretend he's having fun. He's very confident on his ability for Murder (tm), he (tragically) became one of the Best general jedis in the order by becoming good at murder, he's useful when he's being murderous at the right people; so he has no doubts on his abilities on this regard; that doesn't mean he isn't aware of how fucked up and cruel it is, but he keeps doing it, and it's all he knows; he was born in violence, raised in violence, taught to yield a extremelly dangerous weapon, groomed into violence, rewarded for violence, cheered for violence, with Ahsoka then he had to teach violence, and then violence just became something that ran in his blood, it came to him easily, too easily because he was never given the means to deal with such a extreme hyperviolent paradigm. So yep, he knows he's good at murder and little self-preservation.

And he probably despised himself for it, he saw himself as less than a being with human rights, he saw himself as a weapon and he hated not being seen as a person, and at some point he became apathic about it, the fight left him as soon as he had no future with a family. As Vader his hate and anger is just cold fury, is mostly apathy and a void of emotions, there's just pain and self-disgust and regret and old anger, there's not even trying to be something else anymore, it's all he's ever been good at and all he's being asked to do.

So redeemed Anakin (which canonically just means Ghost Anakin lmao) acting oblivious or playing the dumb or victim card it's just something I can't even imagine him to do; like Anakin is aware of being violent and messed up and Bad, but he is completely unable to concieve the idea of having been a victim because besides violence, Anakin's other big trait is that he never ever processes trauma and he horrifically has a history of blaming himself instead of the people who owned him.

This guy, when he was at his best as a Jedi, was pathologically prone to suicidal missions even when it wasn't a necessity, he thinks he's an asset, a means for his superiors to impose their stance and chose to own it, instead of blaming his superiors he just hates himself because he can't stop pathetically reliving when he left his mom behind, when he carried her corpse, when he retaliated against even innocents including kids, when he hurt Padmé, all the times he failed, and the he lived in his personal, fitly created just for him, inferno and had no plans to escape it until one certain sunshine farmer showed up, and all because he thinks he deserves the torture and the abuse and being owned because he's just good at murder and nothing else.

So yeah, no one probably hates him more than himself. Someone could tell Ghost Anakin he's a monster, the worst thing that ever happened in the galaxy and he would say "Yes." And no attempts at arguing or whatsoever, his dignity couldn't be lower if he tried, he would half-heartly agree if someone like Luke said the emperor did him wrong by, y'know, torture him? But then he would also say something like "Well, yes, but cruelty is the way of the Sith, what else could be expected", he's just terribly messed up and couldn't stop himself from defending, at least a little, his literal groomer and abuser and master, and he certainly won't expect forgiveness, like,,,,at all. He can, and will, make excuses for people directly hurting him, but he also would retaliate in terrible ways against anyone, guilty or not, if it meant doing it for someone he cared about.

So Anakin is just...used to being used, and falls easily into being used because it's what he knows best, freedom feels useless and uncertain after he lost padmé.

It's an increíble vicious circle: He worked himself hard to be useful because being useful it's what makes people like him and a means of survival, he then hates himself for being just useful and loosing his personhood, and because he hates himself and thinks he doesn't deserve any sort of...human rights, he keeps on being a mere weapon, an object, but what a good and expensive weapon at least, repeat.

So nope, this guy would be completely unable to even dare to play the victim or excuse himself, even less act as if he doesn't understand he did wrong.

[xichilie]

ive got two ideas for you; pick whatever one you like better. imagine brant unknowingly becoming overprotective of his pregnant wife to the point where he doesn't even let her walk in a puddle or imagine him getting crazy drunk, seeing the reader, refusing to let go of them, and shamelessly flirting with the reader.

thank you.

I love these ideas, especially Brant being drunk and shamelessly flirting with the reader because I can picture this happening

Brant x (fem) reader

A Drunken Fool in Love

The Fool’s Troupe had seen Brant in many states—smug, dramatic, dazzling on stage, even deeply focused when strategizing. But this?

This was something else entirely.

Brant was drunk.

Not his usual, playful tipsy where he could still charm a crowd with a slurred flourish—no, tonight he was completely gone.

It had started as a simple celebration after another successful performance in one of Rinascita’s grand plazas. The drinks had flowed freely, the music was lively, and the entire troupe had let loose in their own ways.

Brant, however, had dedicated himself to the wine like it was a lover who might disappear at any moment.

And now, that lover was very much in his system.

Y/N wasn’t too concerned—Brant could hold his liquor well enough that he rarely made a complete fool of himself. Usually. But she should have known better the second he spotted her across the tavern and his entire face lit up as if she were the most radiant thing in existence.

"Ohhh, my darling~"

Y/N barely had time to process before she found herself scooped into Brant’s arms, her back pressed against his chest as he practically draped himself over her.

"Brant—" she started, but he cut her off, pressing a kiss to her cheek with a dramatic sigh.

"You grow more beautiful every time I look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with both drink and adoration. "Truly, how do you do it? Are you enchanting yourself when I’m not looking? I demand to know your secret!"

Y/N sighed, though her lips twitched in amusement. "Brant, you just saw me five minutes ago."

"Five agonizing minutes," he corrected, pressing his forehead against hers. "Each second apart is a torment, my love!"

The troupe, who had been watching the display with growing amusement, chuckled amongst themselves.

Pero leaned toward Dominick. "This is getting better by the second."

Brant, blissfully unaware, continued his shameless adoration. His hands found Y/N’s waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the fabric of her coat as he sighed dramatically.

"Do you know what the worst part of life is, my love?" he whispered, voice low and full of exaggerated sorrow.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I’m afraid to ask."

He pressed a hand to his heart. "That I only have one lifetime to spend with you."

Pero snorted into his drink. Andreas was barely holding in a laugh.

Y/N groaned, covering her face. "Brant—"

"And what have I done to deserve you?" he continued, his voice rising for dramatic effect. "Did I save a kingdom in my past life? Was I a hero, a saint, a legend destined for greatness? Surely the heavens must have rewarded me, for how else could I have been given the greatest treasure in all of Rinascita?"

Y/N, utterly overwhelmed, turned to the others for help. "Are any of you going to stop him?"

Dionysia grinned. "Not a chance."

Roccia, who had been watching the scene unfold with her usual quiet observation, merely exhaled softly.

Barton took a sip of his drink and muttered, "This is painful."

Brant, apparently not done, suddenly pulled Y/N onto his lap, securing her in place as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"My darling," he purred. "Did you know that your eyes shine brighter than any star?"

Y/N sighed. "Brant—"

"Did you know that your voice is sweeter than the finest melody?"

"Brant—"

"And did you know," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear, "that I would gladly fight an army of Echoes if it meant securing your love for another day?"

Y/N sighed deeply. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet," Brant murmured, "you love me for it."

Before she could retort, Brant suddenly sat up straighter, his expression brightening like he’d just had the greatest idea in the world.

"A TOAST!"

Y/N froze.

"Oh no," she groaned, already dreading whatever was about to happen.

Brant climbed onto the bench, raised his mug, and took a deep breath.

"To my beloved!" he bellowed, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone in the tavern. "The most radiant, most enchanting, most utterly divine soul to have ever graced this world!"

The entire tavern cheered.

Y/N felt her face burning as Brant, pleased with himself, dramatically dipped her back in his arms.

"How will you ever survive my love?" he purred.

Y/N sighed, though she couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped out. "Brant, you are impossible."

"And yet," Brant murmured, "you love me for it."

She exhaled, giving in. "Of course I do."

The troupe collectively groaned at how disgustingly sweet they were.

Pero wiped away a fake tear. "Beautiful. Simply beautiful."

Dionysia laughed. "I’ll be telling this story for weeks."

Getting Him Home

Y/N exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Alright, that’s enough performing for one night. Come on, Brant. Let’s get you home before you start reciting poetry next."

Brant gasped as if she had suggested something truly horrendous. "Darling! Poetry would be the least I could do to express my love! Why, I could write an epic about your beauty, your kindness, your—*"

"Or," Y/N interrupted, already pulling him toward the door, "you could save that for tomorrow."

Brant huffed but allowed himself to be guided out of the tavern, his arm slung heavily around her shoulders. He leaned heavily against her, making their walk a little awkward, but Y/N supported his weight without complaint.

The cool night air hit them, and Brant let out a pleased sigh. "Ahhh, the night… so dark, yet not as dark as the depths of my love for you…"

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "You’re such a fool."

"And proud of it," Brant slurred, nuzzling into her shoulder. "But I am your fool…"

She shook her head, chuckling. "Yes, you are."

By the time they reached their quarters, Brant was barely standing upright.

Y/N eased him onto the bed, kneeling to pull off his boots as he flopped onto the mattress, sprawled out like a man who had fought the grandest battle of his life.

She shook her head fondly. "Honestly, Brant… You can command an entire stage without breaking a sweat, but the second you drink too much, you turn into this."

Brant cracked open one eye, a lazy smile on his face. "And yet you still love me."

Y/N sighed, sitting beside him. "Unfortunately, yes."

Brant let out a happy hum and reached for her, pulling her down so she was lying beside him. His arms wrapped around her tightly, his body warm and softer in a way that made Y/N's heart squeeze.

He buried his face into her neck, sighing contentedly. "Mmm... My love…"

Y/N ran her fingers gently through his blue hair, letting him settle. "Get some sleep, Brant."

"Only if you stay right here…" he mumbled.

She smiled. "I’m not going anywhere."

Within minutes, Brant’s breathing evened out, his body relaxing completely against hers. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to his temple, shaking her head at the ridiculous night they’d just had.

He was a fool.

But he was her fool.

[heartfullofleeches]

Vendetta [Magical Boy Yan] with a magical Scientist Reader who experiments on the monsters they fight and is generally just one of the worst magical people to stumble across. It's a mystery as to why Reader does what they do - they hardly have any compassion for their fellow humans and laughs at the ridiculous idea they're performing these experiments to turn these creatures back into humans. The ones that used to be humans that is. They've crafted weapons and armor from the skin and meat of their enemies, but they grown old of their toys before long. Many have asked. The answer remains the same.

"Why do I do this?.... Because it's fun I don't know what else you want me to tell you."

Vendetta swears he hears wedding bells- A ruthless, coal hearted scientist with zero regard for how the public views them who also happens to have a sadistic streak? Where has Reader been all his life? Drags monsters and crooks alike to Reader's doorstep in exchange for a reward - Money doesn't mean shit to Vendetta when he could have front row tickets to Reader's next surgery. I see Scientist Reader being a med student outside of their magical persona which Vendetta would tease them about, but totally sees as a bonus because nerds are hot.

Weakens the locks on Reader's cages so their pets can escape and he can live vicariously through them when Reader comes to collect them.

Reader tries to kill Vendetta when they first met, but upon realizing he likes getting the shit kicked out of him they bail because he's a freak.

Reader is stronger than Vendetta in their magical form, but weaker in their normal because I like the idea of that.

-

[Scientist Reader presses the heel of their boot against Vendetta's neck as they stand over him, sneering down at the man as he gasps for air]

Reader: You disgust me. Any last words before I remove your vocal cords?

Vendetta: You should spit in my mouth. I'd reallllly hate that- Here, I'll show you how to do it.

[Vendetta sucks blood from the split in his lip - spitting upwards directly into Scientist Reader's mouth.]

Scientist Reader: Mother-FUCKER- That went into my mouth! Why does your blood taste like battery acid?!

Vendetta: I'm waiting~

-

Scientist Reader: Give it back.

Vendetta, holding Reader's id card out of reach: Aw, this what you normally look like? You're pretty cute for a dork. I could totally take you.

Scientist Reader: Oh, please- I've beaten your ass more times than I care to remember.

Vendetta: Who said anything about a fight.

-

Vendetta: Got photos of you leaving that old abandoned library. Must've nicked yourself pretty bad down there- All that blood on your clothes...

Scientist Reader: And what do you plan to do with those photos?

Vendetta: Jerk off?- Tf else do you want me to do with them?

[heathersdesk]

The Crimes of Brigham Young: the Briefest Introduction

If you're going to be LDS long term, one of the facts you have to accept and make peace with never trying to dispute, is that Brigham Young was a horrible person.

We don't openly talk about this as a community, so you can reach adulthood without ever having to wrestle with this too much. But that makes it all the more shocking when you discover how bad he was.

To say he was deeply flawed doesn't do it justice. Your uncle who says hateful stuff at the dinner table and disrespects his wife and children is deeply flawed. Brigham Young is so much worse than that, by several degrees of magnitude. He introduced and was complicit in extreme violence that was unnecessary and unjustifiable. By the standards of his day and ours, from the perspective of those inside the community and outside, he wasn't a good person. If what you imagine a good leader to be is the King Benjamin definition of someone who does good for his people and doesn't enrich himself from their labors, that's not a test Brigham Young can pass. At all. Not even a little bit.

There's too much history to get into, but here are the basics:

Brigham Young enriched himself constantly from other people. He gave himself the largest allowance of any Church leader in our history. He was living in finery when the rest of the Utah Territory was living in deprivation and squalor. He abused his position within the Church/consecration to make sure he never went without. D. Michael Quinn is the best authority we have on church finances and, to summarize his work, Church leadership has only improved over time in terms of leaders not abusing Church resources. But that was very easy to do because of how much Brigham Young abused them for his personal benefit.

The fact that he was openly racist and introduced slavery to the Utah Territory, undoing the work of Joseph Smith to put black and white Saints on more equal footing with each other is no secret. The Church openly admits to that one now, which is good. We need to be honest about the harm the institution has done in the past towards black people, and we're doing better on that front.

Where we still fail is the overwhelming amounts of violence and genocide our people engaged in against various indigenous tribes across the Midwest and in the areas of pioneer settlement in the Intermountain West. You may have heard of the Mountain Meadows Massacre, which is the event where John D. Lee murdered a group of innocent white travelers that were passing through Utah. What you may not know is that skirmish was part of the larger Black Hawk War against indigenous tribes that included over twenty years of violence, in which our people were consistently the aggressors. Mountain Meadows is the one you've heard of because, true to American form, we only acknowledge white wrongdoing when it hurts other white people. The number of indigenous people who were murdered in genocidal violence by the hands of our people, at the express orders of Brigham Young, is undeniable. It's well-documented history.

This is just one extermination order that exists in which senior Church leadership calls for the total extermination of entire indigenous tribes and nations. They used the Nauvoo Legion to do this.

You would think a group of people who were exterminated with orders like these would know better. But that's the trouble with unhealed trauma: it keeps you from learning from the worst things that happen to you and makes you repeat them instead.

Brigham Young didn't want to live adjacent to indigenous people in the Utah Territory and surrounding areas. He wanted their anhialation. He wanted to take their lands and their possessions. That's what he did to indigenous people who helped our people survive in terrain and elements they weren't prepared to live in. He rewarded them with violence, dishonesty, and betrayal.

There are many reasons you will hear me say that I want a one-on-one socker bopper fight with Brigham Young in a Wendy's parking lot. He has a lot to apologize for, to me and many other people. You cannot begin to understand what that means if you've never seen the scope of how much harm he did.

I love y'all. I'm sorry if I'm the one to tell you this, especially if your people were involved and you were lied to about it. You deserve the truth. That's why I'm telling you. We cannot heal from what we don't acknowledge, and so much of the way we are today as a community is a direct result of all this violence. It's why our people mistrust outsiders, attempt to solve problems with unnecessary violence, and discredit any criticism for their loyalties to the prophet and senior Church leadership. It's who our people have been for so long, there is real intergenerational fear in trying to be anything else.

But that healing is necessary so we can stop repeating the mistakes of the past.

The Book of Mormon teaches in 2 Nephi 9:40:

I know that the words of truth are hard against all uncleanness; but the righteous fear them not, for they love the truth and are not shaken.

We are comfortable acknowledging this to be true about outsiders. Do we believe it when it concerns our own? Do we actually care more about what is right, rather than who we want to believe is right?

Such examination requires faith, honesty, and courage. Truth doesn't have the power to destroy faith, only flimsy and undeserved certainty. And if your certainty was based in falsehood, then best to dispense with it so you can live more fully in the truth.

[thegnomelord]

I REALLY LOVE THE STRAIGHTFOWARD WEREWOLVES SOAP. OMG. Its just really funny in my head, imagine the way soap would act so shameless around the reader, uncaring about the stare he got because thats just how they are! The werewolves race with their no-shit and unfiltered attitude, and oh if they take interest in you, prepare your heart especially if you has a weak one; because surely they'll cling their every waking moment with you, sniffing every spots of you that they can reach. Absurd yet endearing flirtiratios compliments would hurled at you, catching you off guard cause they just come out of nowhere. Baring their fangs at potential rivals, worst case scenario if its their own race, because they can and will get violent, best calmed the werewolves down before anything awful happened. Just a thing between werewolves to prove which one is the stronger and more qualified, whose more worthy of your love, in their point of view.

If you have the time can you make a short fic, it would be the highlight of my life for weeks!!

Okay yes but also because I love needy clingy pathetic Soap too much lol

CW: NSFW, gn reader, grinding, somnophillia, quick and rough.

You've noticed that Soap has started to act. . . strange.

He's started trying to feed you all types of stuff, mostly meat, seeking you out at all times of the day. You'll see him go out to the woods and come back with some large animal, and an hour later he'll be coming to you with a plate of food and a 'Kiss the cook' apron on (every time you have to bite back from drawing attention to the fact the arrows point down to his dick). "Hey, need that wonderful mouth of yer's to try this out." He says, watching with rapt attention as you try his food, taking every critique with a wagging tail.

And if you like his food, oh, there's a giant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, ye like that?" He comes closer, the plate in your hands forcing distance between you two. "Reckon this cook should get a reward." He's already stepping around to press his chest flush with your back before he can finish his sentence, and you don't have the heart to stop him because the food is mouth watering and he's just scenting you, even if the occasional flick of his tongue against your nape makes you shiver. (You, again, try not to draw attention to a hard bulge grinding into your ass)

That's the other thing. He's gotten really clingy.

He's always been clingy with all the team members, nuzzling his cheek against Gaz, whining like a kicked puppy when pushes him away with a hand on his face, tail wagging as he scents Price. Usually he's satisfied after he's done scenting the lads in your team, happy to continue with his business.

But with you. . .

You can't even sit on the couch for five seconds before his burly body is snuggling up to you, taking his seat in your lap like he owns it, like he's a lap dog. Doesn't even excuse himself before his hands are groping your biceps as he nuzzles your neck. "Aye, yer so hoht," He purrs, full body rubbing against you. "Could use ye fer a blanket on cold nights." You don't know how to feel about that, his words causing your mind to stutter long enough for him to replace the scents lingering on you with his own.

And when someone enters to find you like this, he doesn't even throw them a glance, gripping onto you like a koala and all you can do is mouth a 'help me'. Doesn't work though, as the second he senses someone is getting near he's growling like a monster truck's engine, glaring at the poor sod with his face still stuck in your neck.

Or, if you're busy with something, he'll saddle up to you, ears perked up. "Oi, bonnie, hold som'ting fer me." He'll whine, tugging on your arm until you sigh.

"Fine, just give it here." You growl, holding out your arm, still concentrated on what you're doing.

Next thing you know you're cupping his jaw, his head resting on your hand. "Anyone ever tell ye, yer got perfect hands te grope with?" Johnny grins at you, that one snaggletooth fang pinching his lip, using your confusion to rub the scent glands in his cheeks against your palm, making sure you smell like him.

You shake out of your stupor and pull your hand back, resisting giving in when he gives you such a heartbroken whine. "No, Johnny." You growl and shoo him away, but he still manages to brush his tail against your leg.

You make the mistake to fall asleep on the communal couch after a grueling day of training recruits. When Johnny finds you, his nose immediately trying to get a whiff of your scent, he growls when he can barely get traces of it beneath the smell of dirt and sweat and way too many people when the only scent you should have on you is his. His inner wolf growls along with him, his ears pricking up straight, staring at your sleeping form.

He's more than happy to rectify your mistake.

He lays on top of you, purring happily to himself when you don't even shift. "Good mate," He hums to himself, wrapping around you like a blanket, face buried in your neck once again. His hands slide beneath your shirt, making him pant into your skin from the sensation of your muscles beneath his hands. He moves his body slowly, seeking to have as much skin contact as he can, mouth watering and angel bells ringing in his skull at how he can taste his scent replacing everyone else's on your skin.

He doesn't notice when he starts to nibble on your neck, but it's the sensible next move, what better way to keep competition away than let everyone know you're taken? Johnny's marks bloom across your throat as he sucks hickeys into your skin, his wolf and himself standing on common ground to make sure you're covered in his marks.

He pulls back his head to look at his work and groans, cock immediately hardening in his pants from you covered in his marks. His hips gain a life of their own, thighs gripping your own as he grinds down, already half drunk on your scent.

You wake up to find his hot breath fanning over your face, the sensation of something hard grinding against your leg dissipating any residual drowsiness. "Johnny, what the fuck?" You ask, voice rough from sleep, only now registering his weight on top of you.

"'m sorry bonnie," Johnny whines, burying his face into your neck to muffle his whining. "Just- hah- needed ye."

You grumble, but you can't hide the way heat burns through your veins at the sight of him, his face flushed, claws gripping you like you'll disappear, desperately humping against your leg.

"I can see that." You say, tensing your thigh to give aid him in his grinding, your eyes growing wide at the loud moan that escapes him, like he's a whore on camera.

"Oh, shite, thank ye, thank ye, thank ye-" He whines, his humping growing faster, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way you hadn't pushed him away, that you're accepting his advances, muttering 'mate' under his breath as he chases after his orgasm.

He cums before either one of you knows it, a dark stain forming in his pants as he bites down and groans into your neck. You grunt, but Soap's quick to release your skin and lap at the aching spots with his tongue, soothing the pain.

"'m sorry bonnie." He mumbles, cock still hard in his pants, his wolfish eyes settling on you. Shame nibbles on his stomach for cumming so fast when he can't smell a lot of arousal on you, his wolf growling at him to show you how good he can be.

You jump when his hand slides down to grip your crotch roughly, his pupils dilating at the way a small moan slips past your lips. "Lemme make it up fer ye yeah?"

[cosmica-galaxy]

You know, I have a concern about the baby witch. Children tend to have biting habits, I speak from experience with my little brother. I know it's not intentional, but those little teeth hurt. Pure Vanilla and company would have to take precautions with the little witch biting as a form of affection and possibly biting furniture/fragile things.

Oh, when they were teething, they were a sugary furniture's worst nightmare. Sometimes Pure Vanilla would just happen to stumble upon benches, chairs, cushions, and other things that had bites taken out of them. Of course, he would try to ratify this and discourage the behavior promptly. To help with the teething process, he had a special tough jelly donut made that has a similar design in mind to teething toys. It's tough, soft, slightly squishy, and even has a sweet flavor to it. He gives it to the baby to help them "grow out their witch fangs" and it worked like a charm. The little one stopped biting furniture and other appliances once that need was met. Now, if they are using biting as a BEHAVIOR response, Pure Vanilla would consult some parenting books to see how to deal with the situation.

He learns and applies techniques that help discourage biting as a positive thing and instead tries to encourage more non-harming methods to substitute for the biting. Like patting gently or even rubbing their head against whoever they have those positive feelings towards. He puts in place a reward system to help encourage them not to bite. Such as saying a simple "no" or "that is bad" when they try to bite, which results in him taking away a treat for misbehavior, before giving them the opportunity to substitute what they wanted to do with something less hurtful; like a hug, pat, or nuzzle. In which, he gives them a treat and positive reinforcement to help them change their behavior.

It takes weeks of work on his part, but the biting eventually stops and they instead nuzzle, pat, or hug whoever they have positive emotions for. Pure Vanilla doesn't blame them in the slightest. He just thinks that it's a "witch thing" for them to try and bite cookies or eat sugary furniture or that it is some subtle "human instinct". Some TLC and guidance is all he needs to fix a majority of these behavioral issues in his adoptive child. After a month or two, the child will improve and will stop trying to bite or eat furniture.

[thatbirdrestaurant]

ʚ fairy tail headcanons ɞ

ʚ these all range from canon-compliant to pure fanfiction lala land ɞ

ʚ this ended up being so much longer than i planned ɞ

ʚɞ

the b team from the gmg hang out regularly and are all very good friends. mirajane, cana, and juvia have special "making fun of laxus" privileges that not even bickslow has.

laxus is genuinely embarrassed about how he used to talk about erza and she uses it against him very often. "oh, yes, because how can i - a mere woman - possibly accomplish this task myself?" "fine! i'll open the pickle jar!"

cain instinct is strong in the fairy tail guild. everyone is resisting the urge to smack each other, and most of them aren't very good at it. even laxus can be a target, especially after he chilled out. the most surprising display was when levy smacked him square in the head with one of her books, and he just yelled at her, or when cana stared at erza for a few seconds before smacking her across the face.

sex education was, probably, the worst thing to happen to those who grew up in the guild hall. either makarov didn't give enough details or he gave way too many.

lucy and gray are the biggest gossipers in the guild. they know everyone's secrets and while they don't blackmail people, they never hide something from the other. if they're staring at you and whispering, they are talking mad shit or they found out something about you.

juvia and natsu get along alarmingly well. they're not even sure how it works, just that they're so different that it kind of makes them perfect for each other (as friends).

natsu is sting's celebrity crush and he thinks he's doing a great job at hiding it. he's not. everyone knows. rogue knows, lector knows, all of sabertooth knows, all of fairy tail knows, sorcerer weekly knows, natsu knows. no one has the heart to tell him.

juvia doesn't have romantic feelings for lyon but she wants them to be friends so badly. not to get closer to gray, just because she thinks he's really cool and easy to talk to. lyon is so smug about it and gray wants to throttle him for it.

erza and mira's rivalry is alive in the tiniest of ways. they're always having small contests like "i bet i can wash this cup faster than you," or "i bet lucy says hi to me first." there's no hard feelings involved, they just can't help but be a little competitive with each other.

erza was illiterate for a really long time, way longer than she should have been, and makarov felt awful for not realizing it sooner. she was just looking at the reward numbers and going with the flow. on top of that, she has really bad dyslexia, something that somehow went under the radar.

related to the previous headcanon, lucy eventually realizes that the reason natsu has such bad grammar and reading comprehension is because he was tutored by erza, and erza's so bad at writing and understanding big words because she has undiagnosed dyslexia. so takes the time to slowly teach them how to read more complicated things, showing erza ways to read with her dyslexia, and giving them handwriting lessons. the first time erza writes a comprehendible letter is to jellal, and she's absolutely ecstatic about it. natsu is thrilled that he can finally read lucy's book without feeling stupid.

gray teaches wendy a lot about social cues and how to survive in a city as big as magnolia. she grew up very sheltered in a tiny village, so it makes sense that she struggles with "big city living." she's very appreciative and gray is just happy he can be of use.

gray stopped smoking because he heard lucy say she finds smokers unattractive. (gray, in the manga, smoked for a bit, and it's explicitly stated that, at least for the first handful of arcs, he was interested in lucy).

natsu started having romantic feelings for lucy during their fight against kain, but he didn't realize he was in love with her until he watched future lucy die. lucy didn't realize she had feelings for natsu until she realized she was in love with him, which was after the events with the eclipse gate. (the specific moments i'm talking about: kain | future lucy | post-eclipse gate)

between her and gajeel, juvia is the older one. she doesn't give it much thought but gajeel sees her in a big sister role, and has found himself accidentally referring to her as his older sister. which he would rather die than let her find out about.

when asked who she would go after if gray wasn't in the picture, most people expect juvia to say she could never picture a world without gray, but she will look you dead in the eye and, without any hesitation, say, "erza."

gray and loke had something very gay going on before loke went back to the celestial spirit world. the sexual tension between the two of them in this scene is too strong, they've fucked, kissed at least.

when gray realized he liked juvia back, he had a full mental breakdown for several reasons. a fear of intimacy, a fear of losing her like he has every single woman he's ever cared about, and because he just couldn't believe her very weird and very aggressive flirting tactics worked.

in the same vein, evergreen was inconsolable for days when she realized she was in love with elfman. laxus, freed, and bickslow have never been more worried about her mental well-being.

all of crime sorciere have a betting pool on when jellal and erza will get their heads out of their asses. they've had to place new bets several times because they're still dancing around each other. at this point, the betting pool is getting tense, and someone is going to lose so much money.

cobra and jellal kissed once because they were both extremely drunk and extremely sad about their respective crushes. neither of them remember it but the rest of crime sorciere can never forget watching cobra shove his tongue down jellal's throat.

makarov has said "you're like the son i never had" way too many times for it to be an accident.

elfman wants to be a girl dad so bad. he absolutely loves having sisters and he's obsessed with the idea of having a daughter to spoil and dote on.

gray and juvia have a kid before getting married...whoops.

going against the grain and literally what mashima has said, and saying that natsu and lucy have a son before having a daughter. he's a lot like lucy while their daughter is almost exactly like natsu.

yukino is a raging lesbian and is endlessly distressed by how many people think she's in love with sting. her month was ruined when minerva congratulated them on their relationship. completely ignoring the fact that sting is a gay man and is openly down bad for rogue.

rufus and orga have been dating for almost three years and literally no one knows.

lucy cried for three hours when she found out about anna and ichiya.

laxus and freed are in a queer-platonic relationship. laxus is aroace and has no interest in being romantically involved with someone, but he likes the dynamics of dating someone, and freed just likes having someone to spoil (back massages, compliments, all the things freed does in canon).

natsu has ended up in so many situations where he's put in feminine clothing, that he's actually started to kind of like it. he really doesn't mind the idea of wearing a skirt or letting lucy do his makeup. lucy is obsessed with it, and they sometimes do each other's makeup.

romeo is a trans boy and canon is my enemy. macao is extremely supportive and is always introducing romeo as enthusiastically as he can. "this is my son, romeo. isn't he so handsome? just the most handsome boy out there. i'm so proud of my son. he's the best." it's as embarrassing as it is endearing.

gray gets really bad joint pain after using his demon slayer magic, because the demon ice is so cold that it hurts him. thankfully, juvia is always happy to give him massages and crack his back.

natsu had the fattest crush on laxus from the age of thirteen to the very end of the battle of fairy tail arc. everyone just thought he had too much faith in his guild mates, but it was actually because he was so horrendously down bad for laxus that he couldn't accept that he was kind of a psycho.

gray tries so hard to seem cool and nonchalant that he accidentally flirts with basically everyone he interacts with. he thinks he's being cool and mysterious, instead he's making people fall in love with him.

loke tells lucy she's beautiful all the way into her sixties, and he means it every single time.

jude, technically, didn't take layla's maiden name, they just had the most unbelievable coincidence in the world where layla's last name was "heartfilia," while jude's was "heartphilia," so neither of them really saw a point in changing their last names.

juvia and gajeel were not only introduced to the wonders of genuine friendship and family after joining fairy tail, but also the amazing world of weed by cana and bickslow. laxus will never forget walking into his apartment with the thunder legion for the first time in years, and being met with juvia, gajeel, and cana on the couch, passing a blunt, while bickslow was raiding the kitchen.

gajeel and levy elope, only bringing lily and juvia with them as their witnesses. lucy was a little (a lot) insulted by it, but she eventually understood why levy did what she did when her and natsu decided to do the exact same thing, and only bring along their team. basically, elfman and evergreen, and gray and juvia are like the only couples to have a ceremony.

fairy tail has a lot of lawsuits and property damage bills, and freed, levy, and lucy almost had collective aneurysms trying to get through and organize them all. the guild has never spent more money on coffee.

lucy eventually takes advantage of the fact she has a very powerful kick and gets a black belt in taekwondo, a type of martial art that focuses mostly on kicking. her raw leg power combined with knowing what she's doing AND her heels? deadly.

(cw for child abuse on this one, skip if needed) minerva has such a massive appetite because jiemma would starve her both as punishment but also to "make her stronger." her body just never feels full, like the food will be taken away from her again.

sabertooth members calling minerva "m'lady" started as a serious thing to show respect, but now it's a running joke where everyone is trying to be as obnoxious as possible with it.

it's kind of implied that rogue is (at least) sexually attracted to minerva, and the fact larcade's "find out who's a virgin" spell hits him right after seeing minerva being affected by it, makes me think he lost his virginity to her. it was awkward and objectively bad but he's still glad it happened. sting drank an entire bottle of tequila when he found out about it.

getting 1 v. 2-d by natsu was the biggest ego crash sting and rogue have ever, and will ever experience. they will never be able to live it down. it will follow them to their graves. please never talk about how egotistical they used to be, they will cry from embarrassment.

minerva calls everyone's boyfriend their "boy toy" because, and i quote, "i don't respect men."

juvia is the best gift giver you will ever meet. she just has a way of always knowing what's perfect for someone, and it's a mutual agreement to always make her go last for gift giving so everyone else feels better about their gift for at least a few minutes.

natsu is the kind of guy to remember something someone said to him once in passing and randomly bring it up weeks or months later. his brain is a library of miniscule information about the people around him.

gajeel talks trash about levy's romance novels but will also be sneaking peeks over her shoulder and trying not to react to various moments. he is deeply invested in the plot twists and the main characters' romance.

while he's traveling, gildarts will buy cana a gift from every town his visits, which results in him having about a pound of knickknacks, clothes, and alcohol for her when he comes back. she pretends to be embarrassed about it but she secretly loves being spoiled by him.

gildarts and cana go on daddy-daughter dates and she'd rather drink bleach than let other people find out about it. gildarts is just happy to be there.

natsu and cana have had this conversation: "so, are we, like, siblings now?" "excuse me?" "because, like, gildarts is basically my dad, and he's your dad. so..." "we are not siblings, natsu." "okay, didn't know you liked being an only child so much." "go fuck yourself."

gildarts knows lucy is going to be his daughter in law. he doesn't know if it's going to be from her marrying natsu or from her marrying cana.

wakaba would sneak teenage gray cigarettes. erza, mirajane, and makarov almost killed him when they found out about it.

mira is aroace, feeling absolutely no romantic attraction and being sex repulsed, but she is absolutely obsessed with other peoples' love lives. she thrives on it.

lisanna is fairy tail's resident lesbian and is a little in love with every girl she meets.

[bkglovergirl]

♡𓂃Oversized teddy bear?

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲Things start getting into motion after Bakugou set some ground rules for him to be your husband. Now, Bakugou doesn't retaliate against you in the dorm, but what happens when the couple has to train and battle together? Will Bakugou slowly start breaking down his rules? And you are under mental stress on why Bakugou is acting so weird.

Word count; 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You groan, stretching. It’s so bright, and this has to be one of the worst nights you've had in ages. You turn and face the TV, forgetting you passed out watching movies. “Why the hell are you out here?”

“Not too loud..” you sit up yawning.

“I wasn't even loud!” you winch giving him a death stare. He’s in the kitchen washing the dishes and he has.. an apron on? You can’t help but stare because he in fact doesn't have a fucking shirt on!

“No fucking way.”

“What!?”

“Are you wearing a fucking apron?!” You laugh at him which seems to be a pattern now.

“HEY I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE NICE AND DO THE DISHES FOR YOU!” The scoreboard goes up a point 

“You just keep surprising me with how much of a big dork you are!” Bakugou quickly wipes off his hands and makes his way to you. You try catching your breath but seeing him in full view makes you laugh even more. He makes a low growl and pushes you down onto the couch, moving himself to sit on you. Not putting so much pressure as his weight would clear your windpipes but enough to make you trap. You stop laughing admittedly and stare right up at him, going quickly from finding everything hilarious a second to go, to now being turned on. “What are you doing dipshit! YOU ARE HEAVY!”

“It made you stop laughing at me, and frankly, I’m getting tired of it being a daily occurrence!”

“It's not my fault; your face is very funny!” Bakugou moves down a bit so that your faces are face to face, giving you a glare, and your face gets hot quickly. You chose to rationalize it that the heat is coming from him and not because you are blushing.

“Is my face funny now?” 

“As a matter of fact, it is.” You quickly glance over his body and look back at his face. You look like a full-on house husband.” Now it’s Bakugou’s turn to blush, and you decide to use this to your advantage. You put your arms around his neck. “Aww, does someone want a reward for doing the dishes?” The scoreboard shows four now.

“No. what your husband wants is for you to stop laughing at him!”

“I think we can achieve that ONLY if you do the dishes all the time.” You smile, “with the same outfit you are wearing now.”

“I thought you said I was a stingy bitch for having rules.” you move one of your hands to trace down his apron.

“Oh you still are.” and you push him off you. Bakugou blushing caught off guard mess falls on his ass and you quickly run to your room and slam the door before he could do anything else. You take a deep breath falling onto your bed, the heat on your face is overwhelming and you curl into a ball.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

An hour passes and you step back into the living room after changing into fresh school clothes. “I’m going out early for a workout,” Bakugou says putting on his shoes. You quickly grab his training bag and hand it to him. “Ok, you don’t want breakfast?” you're kinda happy he’s leaving and acting like nothing is happening. 

“No it’s fine.” he grabs his bag and gives you a kiss on the cheek before walking out notably quickly. You blush hearing the score go up another point marking you guys at having five. Maybe things didn't go back to normal.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You and Midoriya are sitting in the common room, he is sitting extremely close to you as you said you wanted this to be top secret as you put it. “Do you remember how Bakugou gruesomely rejected me in middle school?”

“Yeah and you had sworn to me he was your number one enemy.”

“Well.. you know how he’s my Husband..” Midoriya nods, “He uh... Kissed me on the cheek this morning..”

“WHAT?” It looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head, “Our Kachan?”

“Don’t call him ours!” You hit his arm, and with an ouch, he held your hand down. Being both your self-proclaimed best friend, he’s had to watch this fake rivalry, and in his words, it’s been physically painful on him. As you both, without knowing, take your tension out on him, he has no complaints. This way, though, he knows more than both of you combined. 

“What caused him to do that?” he lets go of your hand and you put your shoulder on his head.

“Shoto gave me this idea-”

“Shoto?”

“ANWAY! Shoto gave me this idea because Bakugou wanted nothing to do with this whole situation. It was to make this as competitive as possible. I threw you in there, and BAM! He’s in with a few rules, of course. He seemed not interested at all. I was doing things to get us points, and he just went along with it, with the most effort he could put in. I didn't do anything! He just did it.” He hums in agreement and lets you know he's listening and he starts braiding a strip of your hair. Just like when you were kids he lets you rant while he plays with your hair, it makes him think better when trying to come up with solutions for your problems. “He rejected me. I know I asked him just to take this a little bit seriously but that!? What does that mean? You're a boy what does that mean?!”

“What it means in simple boy logic is he likes you.”

“Simple boy logic?! He’s not a simple boy! He’s Bakugou!” He laughs at you.

“True. But Katchan wouldn't just do that.”

 “I wouldn't just do what?” Speak of the devil, Bakugou walks in placing his bag on the table near you and Midoriya. He looks at the both of you. You two cuddled close with your head on his shoulder and Midoriya playing with your hair. This is normal. This has been normal since middle school but for some reason, the itch is back and his face gets hot with anger. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope! I was just leaving.” With that Midoriya stands up but you pull him back down.

“No, you weren't!” 

“Yes, I was!” 

“You both are a bunch of children.” Bakugou puts his two cents. Which weren't needed.

“Oh, were children? Let’s just bring up the chair, shall we?” You stand up, trying to intimidate Bakugou. To show that it doesn't work, he crosses his arms, but his shoulders are tense. “Or the fact that Midoriya here is points ahead of you.” Midoriya hearing his name be mentioned scoots away but you and Bakugou both give him a look and he stays still. 

“Why should I care how much he has?!” 

“Because someone can’t handle the fact he’s not number one at something! Clearly, he’s a better husband than you are.” Bakugou drops his arms in defeat. He’s ticked off, and it’s taking everything in him not to blow something up.

“If Deku is so great why don’t you be his wife!”

“I would but our points are so low I can’t!” Rolling his eyes he grabs his bag off the table and stomps off. You fall back down onto the couch and Midoriya itches back over to you.

“Well that could have been worse.” you kick him putting your face into your own hands.

“Shut up.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Of all the days these training scenarios could have happened, today was the worst day. As All might put it, we had to work out balancing Hero work with your “partner.” The first scenario involves working on a team against another couple, and the second involves fighting a villain with a high risk of a “married couple” losing a partner, and we don’t know who is getting picked as the ‘victim.’ Your quirk and Bakugou’s quirk do NOT get along and the efforts to make them mash together at all are zero to none. Your quirk controls plants, much like Shiozaki but a lot more advanced. You can control all plants and the lighting effects which plants you can use and how effective they will be. If you make the plant prick someone you can give them a negative or positive association with the plant. Now you see why Bakugou and your quirk don’t mesh well together, he can set your pretty plants on fire. You and Bakugou got dropped into a dark area with pipes and wires all around you both. You have no way of knowing where the other team is which is Shoto and Yaoyorozu and that gives you guys a big disadvantage. You start growing cast iron plants and slowly they glide into the pipes and start exploring them meanwhile Bakugou grumbles around stomping trying to find anything that could give him an advantage. He doesn't and it causes him to let off some explosives which causes your plants to shrivel and burn. “What the hell man!”

“What?!”

“Don’t do that I’m trying to find them! And you're making them find us!”

“Can’t you use Mushrooms or something so I don’t gotta fucking tiptoe around your stupid plants?!” You glide the cast iron plants back through the pipes.

“Well, one mushrooms aren't plants they're fungi dumbass and two my plants aren't stupid!” you shiver, “found them.” 

“You did?”

“Yep, and no thanks to you.”

“Shut it.” You start running, and Bakugou follows behind. As you run down the corridor, ice starts forming all around. “STUPID ICYHOT!” Bakugou yells blasting the ice that's made his way towards him and only him. You let out a frustrated sigh and start using Lampranthus to move you around the ice having it attach to your feet and arms. It was going well, You see Shoto and Yaoyorozu and move closer to them but Bakugou blasts toward them and past you causing the plant to shrivel and causing you to fall. You panic not knowing which plant in the moment could handle the intense elements. The fall is big and over huge ice. You close your eyes and hug yourself but you overhear Shoto yell something and Yaoyorozu yell something. Instead of landing on hard cold ice, you land on a... Oversized Teddy bear? You look up and see Shoto smiling at you and Yaoyorozu gives you a thumbs up. Bakugou was right next to you. It looks like Shoto got to saving you before he could and he’s fucking pissed. His shoulder tense and so does his jaw. “DIE!” Bakugou blasts toward them with Shoto making an ice shield but with the blast's heat it doesn't do well and causes the pair to fall back. Shoto quickly incases the room with ice and causes some ice to form around Bakugou’s hands giving them time to escape. “Fuck!” he stands still trying to get enough sweat but it doesn't work, “Mother fucker!”

“Chill out! You are the reason they got away with the stupid impulse attack!” you run up to Bakugou looking at his hands.

“OH, I’M THE REASON?!” he looks at you like you just wished hell on his mother. “You're the one that let the enemy team save you!”

“Yes, because did you hear me say, Hey Shoto, save me? NO!” You open up your palm and grow a Deadly nightshade. “When I say now, you take this and eat it,” you grow the cast iron plants, and from your feet, they sprout, moving around trying to find the other team. “Got them.” Ignoring Bakugou’s grumbling, you start running, which he follows admittedly. You stop putting your hand out to stop Bakugou and before he can say anything you put a finger to your lips shutting him up. He’ll get you back for it later. Bakugou looks down at you, the purple plant wrapped around your hand and fingers like it’s home. He finally takes a look at your hero outfit. So engrossed in the fight he doesn't even realize that the new one you have been designing has finally arrived and don't ask why he knows you've been working on one. The dark green shirt is tight onto your skin and the sleeves go down enough to make gloves. The cut of the shirt shows off your chest and all over the shirt is little lines the plants could hold onto. You went from pants to a black shirt which is now really noticeable to Bakugou. The skirt's top and bottom also has attachments for your plants. You’ve always complained about your shoes and how they don't support your quirk and if you ask Bakugou why he knows this little fact he’ll say you complained about it so much it’s bolted into his brain but the truth is you only complained once. You have heel boots now and a normal person wouldn't want heels on your costume but you made sure you had them. The heels of the boots have a hole at the bottom, so one of your plants could slitter down and into the ground instead of having holes on a flat shoe which has always made you and your plants uncomfortable. You also changed your hair, it's half up from its normal ponytail. Bakugou knows why you made this change and it’s all for your plants. “I’ll distract them. Now eat this and when you feel the sweat break free and attack.” You hand him the flower and by hand, you bring it up to his mouth and he bites down. “Don’t eat it yet.” and you run out. You start spreading out Caladium, or heart-to-heart. You make the plant swarm around Shoto and hold down Yaoyorozu. Which works for a minute before Shoto shoots ice around your feet not causing you to get stuck but causing your plant to wither and even wither underground which was holding down Yaoyorozu. “NOW BAKUGOU.” And Bakugou trusts you. Bakugou trusts you so he eats the plant. Bakugou trusts you so he starts getting hot and sweaty but he also starts getting dizzy. Either way, Bakugou runs out and with the fever running through him, he’s able to break free from the ice and because Bakugou trusts you he sends his quirk full force which knocks out Yaoyorozu completely and causes Todoroki to stumble You take advantage of the heat caused by his quirk and send out the plant again, the heart to heart plant wraps Yaoyorozu and Shoto capturing them. A ding goes off and an announcement is heard claiming you and Bakugou as the winners. You celebrate smiling and run up to Bakugou, and in his confused dazz he smiles back before passing out.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Bakugou groans the pain in his head is unbearable. He turns his body and suddenly he smells… lavender? He slowly opens his eyes. He squints just seeing bright white and slowly his eyes adjust and see you. Your head is resting on your hand and your eyes are closed. Lavender is growing out of your hair and it's looped around like the flowers were meant to be there. He smiles taking a deep breath before, “Hey!” You open your eyes and his smile is gone, He regrets yelling as his head hurts right away. 

“I am so sorry.”

“What are you on about?”

“I’m sorry! Aizawa chewed me out, and he’s right. I totally should have told you the repercussions of the flower you ate, and you wouldn't have taken it if I had. He took all our points as punishment, and if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here, and we would be on to the next scenario training!” Bakugou stares at you, dazed.

“The fuck are you talking about? I trusted you so I ate it. Stop tweaking out, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't wanna. Simple.”

“But our points… and you won't get to train.” You grab your hair, causing some lavender petals to get all in it. Bakugou slowly sits up and starts picking the petals out of your hair.

“I said it’s fine, and we won anyway, so it's no big deal.” You smile at him.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Never mind it was a big fucking deal because why the fuck is that stupid fucking Teddy bear in your dorm? Bakugou feels like the bear is staring at him tauntingly. “Why the fuck is that here?” he points at the teddy bear. You were in the kitchen cooking dinner and you peek your head out to see what he was talking about.

“After the battle, Shoto gave me it.” So while he was dead weight, Shoto comforted you and gave you the bear that saved you when he should have. That was the cherry on top.

“Shoto, Shoto, Shoto.” He mocks sitting on the couch, huffing like a child. That’s all I ever hear!” You let him pout like a baby and finish cooking dinner. You bring the plates out and sit in front of the couch, placing them on the table in front of you both. A point goes up on the board and you are back to one. 

“And your problem is?” You look at Bakugou as he quickly starts eating. He shakes his head and he keeps eating so you reach over and grab the remote. Or you try and grab the remote. Bakugou catches your hand and gives you a glare.

“No remote until you get rid of that stupid teddy bear!” You roll your eyes and laugh. Standing up, you grab the bear and walk into your bedroom. Bakugou watches you intently. You throw the bear on your bed, and with its size, it takes up a lot of space. “Not on your bed!” You look at him quickly.

“Why!?”

“Because I said so!” 

“You are crazy!” You shut your bedroom door and walked back over to the couch. “What is the issue?” He ignored you, and his hand was tense around the remote. “So protective of the remote,” you mocked, eating your food. You heard a grumble from him, and you two sat quietly, watching one of his shows and eating. After you two finished, you got up and grabbed the plates, suspecting that he’d keep being protective over the remote.

“What are you doing?” 

“Cleaning up?”

“Why?”

“Because you wanna hold onto the remote like it's life or death.”

“I’ll clean up, that’s my job.” He stands up with the remote. He goes to take the plates out of your hands but struggles with one of his hands being occupied. So he puts the remote to his mouth and he bites down and grabs the plates. You look at him funny.

“Are you for real right now?” Bakugou ignores you and walks into the kitchen. He starts cleaning. “You are so stubborn; it’s annoying.” You sit back on the couch and notice the point board showing two. You smile. Once Bakugou is done he comes and sits back down, he left the remote in the kitchen so you both are stuck watching the News. “I’m getting the remote. I don’t wanna watch this.” Before you can stand up Bakugou lays on on, you blush with your hands hovering over him. “Get up.” he ignores you. “Bakugou get up.”

“Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Call me Katsuki!” You stare at him before slowly placing a hand on his back.

“Why? I thought you didn’t care for the first-name bullshit.”

“Well, I’m tired of Todoroki getting the special privilege! I’m your husband, not him!” He sits up a bit, and your faces are close together. Your hand falls onto his.

“Alright, Katsuki.” He blushes and looks at the kitchen.

“Yeah, whatever Y/N.” You smile. He has had enough and gets up, walking into the kitchen. He comes back out and throws the remote at you before going into his room. The scoreboard shows five.

Tags and notes;

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg @kukikoooo

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi TIME FOR OUR FAVORITE FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER INSPIRED MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. I mean. Maybe there's another you're into. Idk. I like Jiro. He's so. . .blunt. I'm so curious about him, I really really cannot wait until we get the Mortkranken chapter.

also, uh, brief content warning for a mention of assisted suicide? It's under the 'Default' lines, if you feel the need to avoid that.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Oh, there you are. I was about to go give you a health check. This saves time and effort." ああ、そこにいたんですか。今からあなたの健診に行こうと思ってたんです。手間が省けました

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Are those letters piling up over there? It's interesting that doesn't bother you.  Not that my opinion is relevant." そこに溜まってるのは手紙ですか？よく気になりませんね。 まあ、俺には関係ありませんけど

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I don't like unproductive discussions. Like this one." 非生産的な議論は嫌いですね。例えば、今のような会話です

"They said they wanted to die, so I prescribed them what they needed. I don't see the point of discussing ethics after the fact." あちらさんが死にたいと言うので、必要な薬を処方したまでです。今更倫理を持ち出されても、困りますよ

Hey. Buddy. Jiro. That's fuckin' dark dude. This is why you don't joke about wanting to kill yourself. Someone will take it seriously. Jiro will just hand you cyanide pills, a bottle of water, and direct you to a hospital bed to die in. Like jesus christ.

"I save lives that can be saved. It's part of my job to decide the order of priority though." 救える命は救いますよ。まあ、そこに優先順位をつけるのがこちらの仕事なので

"part of my job is to decide if your life is worth saving" IS ALSO A VERY DARK THING TO SAY. I love that his default lines are all very dark and callous. It kind of drives home a dichotomy between how he feels about just anybody and how he feels about you. I also like that he's just. . .kind of dark and gloomy and like ASPECTS OF HIM ARE VERY UNPALATABLE. Like I'm sure there are a lot of people who see those lines and think "that's gross why would anyone like him he's the worst" and THAT'S A GOOD KIND OF CHARACTER TO HAVE ESPECIALLY AS A LOVE INTEREST okay moving on

"One of our patients is thrashing around again? That's inconvenient. I'll administer a shot." また患者が暴れてるんですか？ はあ……面倒くさいですね。１本打っておきますよ

jiro stabbing you with a sedative filled needle like 'stop moving. you are annoying.'

"You should—  Hurk... Hm, I let my guard down. I better go back to Mo— Orgh... Hurk...!" あなた、そろそろ…… うっ……まずいな、完全に油断してました。早く帰っえ、うっ……おえっ……

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning. I'm going to take your pulse, so could you sit down?" おはようございます。脈拍測るんで、座ってもらえます？

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I was in a prolonged coma, so I haven't fully recovered yet. It's been a long time since I ate anything." 俺、長いこと昏睡状態だったんで、まだ本調子じゃないんですよ。飯なんて、しばらく食ってませんし

i wonder when he woke up. it must have been a few months ago at most.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What do you want? I'm conducting an incubation experiment. Please wait till I'm finished." なんですか？　今、培養実験中なので。話なら後にしてください

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm about to receive my medication. It should take approximately one hour. Are you going to wait for me?" ああ、今から投薬の時間なんです。多分１時間くらいかかると思いますけど、待ちますか？

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I attend classes every day since Yuri does, but sometimes they mark me as absent. I'm supposed to reply when they say my name? I didn't know that." 佑理に付き合って毎日授業に出てるんですけど、時々欠席扱いになってて。 返事が必要？　知らなかったな

"yeah you're supposed to let them know you're there." "i am one of the largest people in the room at any given time. that seems unnecessary." also it's cute that he only goes to class because Yuri does, but also he doesn't learn anything from it since he studied it all independently lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"The blood? I believe one of the wounds on my stomach tore. I'll have to get Yuri to suture it." ああ、この血ですか？　さっきから腹の傷が開いてるみたいなんです。佑理に縫ってもらわないとな

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What's the purpose of educational facilities like this? You can learn everything you need through self-study." こういった教育施設って、なんのためにあるんでしょうね？　勉強なら自分ですればいいだけですし

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Who is that noisy blond person? He runs away whenever he sees me. That's rude, isn't it?" 時々見かける、うるさい黄色の人は何者なんです？　 俺の顔を見るといつも逃げるんです。失礼ですよね？

i love the 'isn't it?' like he doesn't know normal social convention but he's pretty sure you're not supposed to run from people like that.

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You don't have to mind me. Go ahead and eat. Even in childhood I never really had an attachment to food, clothing, or shelter." 俺のことは気にせず、飯食ってください。元々、ガキの頃から衣食住にあまり執着がないので

hey jiro that's uh that's kinda fucking depressing you good?

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Yuri's holed up in the lab, so I'm going out. If he comes looking for me, tell him I went to bed." 佑理が研究室に籠ってるので、今のうちに出かけてきます。もし俺を探してたら、寝たと言ってください

Wouldn't Yuri just check your bed and not find you there though??? Also when will you sleep???? like i know he doesn't realize a week of allnighters isn't normal but jfc

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Your face looks terrible. Come over here and inhale this. They're mild smelling salts. They'll wake you up." あなた、ひどい顔ですね。ちょっとこっち来て、これ嗅いでください。 軽い気付け薬です。目が覚めますよ

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello. I'm here to pick up Yuri.  Hm, that's strange. I thought he would be here." こんにちは。佑理を迎えに来ました。 ……あれ？ここにいると思ったんですけど

. . .i wonder why he thought yuri would be with you? how often does he lose track of where yuri is? and why pick him up wouldn't yuri be able to get home himself? unless he figures yuri fell asleep somewhere lmao

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I can just manage to ingest water, so I brew herbal tea as an indulgence. Would you like some too?" 辛うじて水分なら取れるので、嗜好品としてハーブティーを淹れるんですよ。あなたも飲みます？

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"Yuri wouldn't get up, so I was about to give up on getting my morning medication. He got up after the ninth time he used the snooze button though." 佑理がなかなか起きないので、朝は投薬を諦めようかと思いましたよ。９回目のスヌーズで起きましたけど

Yuri and Jiro, like Rui and Haru, need healthy sleep schedules please.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's this? A rice ball? I suppose I might be able to eat some of it." なんですか？　これ。 おにぎり？　まあ、少しくらいなら食べれるかもしれませんが……

can't you only eat fluids. . .are you gonna throw that up later. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You already had tea at Frostheim? The tea I make tastes better though, so please drink it anyway." フロストハイムで紅茶を飲んできたんですか？　 まあ、俺の方が美味く淹れられますから、飲んでください

lmao the mortkranken boys really do not appear to have a great opinion of frostheimers!!! "you had tea at--pfffff nah their tea sucks ass drink mine instead."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I enjoy being alone. The noise doesn't really bother me when I'm reading though. Can I go now?" ひとりの時間は好きですよ。まあ、本を読んでいる時は、周囲の喧噪も気になりません。もういいですか？

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What am I doing? I'm making confections. I'm used to making precise measurements when preparing medications, and it's quite similar to that." 今ですか？　製菓をしてるんです。 計量は薬の調合で慣れてるので、まあ、似たようなものです

jiro makes cupcakes and candies and stuff. . .he can't even enjoy them though. . . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"See you tomorrow. ...What? You're the one who told me I should say that while smiling." また明日。 ……なんですか？こう言って笑えばいいと、あなたが言ってたんじゃないですか

i love lines where it's like 'you told me to do this so now i'm doing it.' especially when the pc is shocked when they actually do it lolol

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"We're doing a complete check up today, so please change into these. ... Do you need me to help you undress?" 今日は精密検査なので、この検査着に着替えてください。 ………… 脱げないなら、脱がしましょうか？

strip faster bitch

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You want to know why I started studying anomalous infectious diseases? I don't know. I just became knowledgeable about them at some point and kept going." なぜ怪異伝染病の研究を始めたか？さあ、気がついたら詳しくなってたので。何となく続けてるだけです

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"My wounds often tear so I've told Yuri deep dermal suturing would be more effective than simple interrupted, but he won't listen to me." よく傷口が開くんで、結節縫合ではなく真皮縫合の方がいいと言ってるのに、佑理が聞かないんですよね

I get the feeling Yuri doesn't listen to most people. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Yuri's combat skills are poor, so I have to protect him. If he dies, there won't be anyone left who can treat me." 佑理は戦闘が下手なので、俺が守るしかないんです。あの人が死ぬと、俺を治せる人がいなくなるんですよ

"if he dies i die so i'm just kinda protecting him because i have to." kind of an oof lmao

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's been a long time since I had a family, so I don't know what you're supposed to do in these situations. Could you teach me?" 俺には長いこと家族がいないので、こういう時、どうすればいいかわからないんです。教えてくれません？

GET FAM-ZONED HAHA aaaaAAAAAA HE SEES YOU AS FAMILY AND HE WANTS TO TREAT YOU THE WAY HE'S SUPPOSED TO TREAT FAMILY. . . . . . ;0; just be yourself jiro we love you as you are, dark and morbid and a little distant but actually quite sweet--

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"There's a high probability that your curse is related to my field of research. It's a problem for me if you die." あなたの呪いは、俺の研究分野に関係している可能性が高い。 あなたを死なせるわけにはいかないんですよ

the bluntness and distance in this one is so perfect for Jiro haha ESPECIALLY AFTER THE "I WANT TO TREAT YOU LIKE FAMILY" ONE BEFORE IT. . .he went from being kind of sweet to being like "if you die it'll be a problem." and not even in a tsundere way just 'it matters to me if you die for academic purposes.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm going to see some flowers on Yuri's orders. Do you want to come? I'll be harvesting mandrakes." 今から佑理の指示で花を見に行くんです。あなたも一緒に行きますか？ マンドラゴラの採取ですが

"Yuri told me to take a break so I'm gonna go work near some flowers i guess."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Cases of the infectious disease gastroenteritis explode at this time of year. It's boring prescribing the same thing all the time." この時期は感染症の胃腸炎が爆発的に増えるんですよ。次から次へと、同じ処方ばかりで飽きました

attention darkwick students: please catch more interesting illnesses. thank you -jiro

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ha ha ha ha! I observed Yuri fighting the urge to fall asleep during class today. Would you like to see the photos?" はははは！ 今日は授業中、ずっと眠気と戦っている佑理を観察してたんですよ。この写真、見ますか？

i really wish it were during the hours this one can play because i wanna record it lolol Jiro smiling and laughing because Yuri's trying not to fall asleep is so precious. Tiny little humanization for our monster boy.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are rumors that pollen contains ephedrine, a central nervous system stimulant. They're false, though." 桜の花粉に、興奮を誘発するエフェドリンが含まれるという噂があるそうですね。 まあ、それデマですけど

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Good, today's temperature matches the forecast. I'll be starting a new experiment this afternoon, but the temperature regulation is difficult. It should be fun." 今日の気温は……予報通りですね。 午後から新しい実験の着手をするのに、温度管理が大変で。楽しみです

temperature regulation experiments are fun! i'm glad Jiro enjoys what he does.

(between 11am and 4pm)

ああ、また手足口病の患者でした。本来子供に多い感染症なんですが、免疫がない人は可哀想ですね "It was another case of hand-foot-and-mouth disease. It's an infectious disease usually more common in children. People without immunity are unfortunate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"A dare? Okay, I'll do it with you. I've always wanted to try screaming in fear." へえ、肝試しですか。 いいですよ、付き合います。恐怖で叫ぶ経験を、一度くらいしてみたいので

"a dare" isn't really a good translation here--肝試し is a "test of courage", an activity usually done on summer evenings where you go someplace scary with your friends to overcome fear together! Or something like that. It's most often done in summer because that's when it's believed there are more like. . .supernatural occurrences? several other characters' summer lines mention more anomalies in Japan in the summer as a result of these beliefs. Either way it's cute that he's like 'oh. that sounds cool. i hope it'll make me experience fear.' I want him to scream in an exaggerated way, just SHRIEKING for the sake of it, not even because he's really that scared just "this feels like the appropriate situation for screaming :)" lmao

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Ha ha ha ha! Oh, sorry. I tried letting the stag beetles I caught for an experiment fight, and it was funnier than I expected." はははは！　ああ、すいません。 採取の時に捕まえたカブトムシ同士を戦わせたら、想像以上に面白くて

i feel like that's something that comes up now and then as like. a thing young japanese boys do. which makes jiro kind of childish in a way which is super charming? it sounds to me like he didn't have much of a childhood. so i'm happy he can explore it now and have fun.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I don't understand why you would go somewhere without a purpose. Why would you go to a mountain if you didn't need to harvest something?" 行楽ですか？　いえ、単純に何が目的か理解できないんです。採取もせず、山を歩くんですか？

mods, show him the beauty of nature.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I went to the botanical garden to get some ingredients and I was given these yams. Do you like candied yams?" さっき植物園に原料をもらいに行ったらサツマイモをもらったんです。スイートポテトは好きですか？

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"A lot of people in Mortkranken dislike exercise.The sporting clubs in Darkwick must be made up of people from other houses." うちの寮は、体を動かすことが嫌いな人が多いですね。学内でスポーツをしてるのも、他寮の人ですよね？

i am once again asking why i was put in fuckin frostheim--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I read books every day, not just in the fall. I like medical journals best. I don't remember what made me start reading them." 秋に限らず、本は毎日読みますよ。特に医学の専門書は好きですね。 いつからなのかは……忘れました

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"Hurk...! Phew... I'm fine... The change in temperature between indoors and outdoors this time of year causes my physical condition to deteriorate more frequently." うっ……はあ……大丈夫です……この季節は室内外の寒暖差のせいで体調を崩しやすいので……

i remember someone i followed also gags when going from a cold place to a warm one lmao. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I found an anomalous plant that can only grow in extremely low temperatures and successfully created a medication with it. It was just a coincidence though." 極低温のみ自生する怪異植物を見つけたので、試しに原薬にしてみたら上手くいきました。まあ、偶然です

'i made a medical breakthrough but it was just an accident' is the medical equivalent of 'i'm not a model'. also Yuri has a line referencing this one!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Streptococcal infections are on the rise. They're spread through droplet and contact infection. Have you been taking precautions?" 溶連菌の感染が増えてますね。飛沫感染と接触感染が経路になります。 あなた、ちゃんと予防してます？

jiro says WEAR YOUR FUCKIN' MASK.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are no merits to lowering your body temperature when you're not experiencing inflammation. I made some herbal tea that warms the body. Do you want some?" 炎症時以外、体を冷やすメリットはないですからね。体を温めるハーブティーを淹れたので、いかがです？

His birthday: (October 13th)

"Whose birthday? Oh, mine? I forgot. Did Yuri leak my medical records?" 誕生日？　誰のです？ ああ、俺のですか、忘れてました。カルテ、佑理が漏らしたんですか？

"did yuri fuckin dox me--"

Your birthday:

"Oh, it's your birthday today, isn't it? What should I do? I suppose I'll go to your room later." ああ、あなた今日、誕生日じゃないですか。何をすればいいんですか？ まあ、後でそちらの部屋に行きます

jiro no you don't have to do that you are moving so fast WHAT HAPPENED TO BEING FAMILY WAIT--

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. Why are you looking at me like that? Even I celebrate New Years." 明けましておめでとうございます。 なんですか？　その顔。正月くらい俺だって祝いますけど

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's this packet? I can't eat solids. You made it? Oh. I can probably eat some of it then." なんですか？　この包み。俺、固形物は食べれませんけど…… なんだ。あなたの手作りなら少しはいけます

bby if you can't eat it don't make yourself sick with it. . . . Actually since the PC feeding him let him eat food, maybe if it's something the PC makes he can eat it???

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, something handmade for something handmade. Eat it here and tell me what you think." どうぞ。目には目を、歯には歯を、手作りには手作りをと思いまして。ここで食べて評価を教えてください

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Yuri's kicking up a fuss and saying I deceived him? I don't remember doing it. It doesn't matter though." 佑理が、俺に騙されたって騒いでるんですか？　そんなことしましたっけ。 まあ、どっちでもいいですけど

i wonder if he actually pulled a prank and he's just hiding it really well. . .or if Yuri is just paranoid lol Yuri's for the record:

"Hmph, did you honestly think you could fool me? I won't fall for your cheap tricks. I've already been fooled by Jiro seven times today!" ふんッ。貴様も僕を騙すつもりで？その手には乗りません。今日はすでに、次郎くんに７回騙されたのでね

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I don't know much about Halloween. I can't eat candy though, so I have to play a trick on you, right?" ハロウィン？　よく知りませんが、俺、お菓子は食べれないので。 あなたに悪戯すればいいんですよね

Christmas: (December 25th)

"This tree? It's a fir tree. Yuri told me to get one, so I cut it down and carried it back here. My special artifact doesn't cut very well." この木ですか？　佑理に言われて、モミの木を切って持ってきました。俺の特質怪具、切れ味が悪いんです

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Are you dead? Oh, you're alive." ……死んでます？　ああ、なんだ。生きてたんですね

jiro poking you with a stick like 'you dead?'

(13 affinity and above)

"Oh, Yuri's calling me. It'll be annoying if I pick up, so I'll just ignore it until you're ready to go again." ……ああ、佑理から連絡です。出ると面倒なので、あなたが動けるようになるまで、無視しておきます

'yuri is the only reason i'm alive but he's gonna yell at me so i'll just wait to pick up the phone' why??? i guess he wants to go back with you if yuri's telling him to come home lol ALSO DON'T YOU THINK IGNORING YOUR PHONE RINGING WILL WORRY YURI. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"You've skipped too many appointments. It's been a long time since your last check up...  I suppose I'll have to re-examine you." あなた、受診サボりすぎです。前回からかなり間が空いてるな…… まあ、今から再検査すればいいです

time to fill out your whole chart again! examination from top to bottom!

THERE WE GO. sorry that one took so long!! He's actually a bit of a goof but his no-affinity lines make him come off as extra cold and cruel. He just has to get used to you!! But I think it has a very charming contrast. AFTER THIS IS JIN! Tomorrow night maybe? it's almost midnight and i have to wake up early again and my insomnia kicked my ass last night. . . .

[caitlynspistol]

watching ror again (this time with more attention to detail), and here is what i've newly picked up on/noticed/want to point out again:

red doesn't want to be queen, doesn't like to be called princess

chloe has a very high sense of duty and honor to her family ("but when i'm out there i'm not just another competitor, i represent cinderellasburg" when talking about her dad signing her up for sns and reminding her that it was supposed to be about having fun)

chloe is part of the auradon historical society??

"and why you'll make a great queen" what about chad??

queen of hearts= empress of wonderland (ie. higher title than chloe should red take the throne)

"get it right or i'll show you punishment!!" yeaaa red had a SHITTY and traumatic childhood under a controlling and abusive mother

"im just a girl, arms open wide, looking for kindness, somewhere in your eyes" soooo even after all that red just wants her mom to love her and accept her and show her kindness! she was never a villain

wait. how does bridget know what red was thinking/singing about if red hadn't opened her mouth? this might just be a musical thing but hm. ability to detect emotions? they somehow connected in a way?

"rule a million years with you right next to me" okay so they probably live longer than auradonian people

og bridget doesn't allow red to eat sweets but red likes them

so qoh's cards have magic that connect directly to wonderland and can summon guards out of thin air, be used as ninja stars (strong enough to break fg's wand in half) and enlargen to create obstacles

lmao without mal as security auradon prep has none (substantial enough)

"everything i do is for you" qoh loves red in her own twisted way

umm i do think cinderella was (intentionally or not) involved in the prank. bridget directed the "humiliating a girl at her first dance, turning her into a monster in front of everyone" at ella and ella just said "you're right" ("you didn't care then, you were off with your prince")

"now make me proud, for once" red only indirectly sentenced ella to death to satisfy her mother and gain acceptance 🗣🗣 bottom alert (and bc ella indirectly challenged her lmao) also what she actually said was "treason. she's guilty of treason" qoh actually called the beheading

qoh kissed red's cheek when she did what she wanted (ie. physical affection as a reward??)

CHLOE WAS PULLING OUT HER SWORD AND WAS ABOUT TO CHARGE AT HER MOM AND THAT WAS WHY RED CHARGED AT HER AND ACCIDENTALLY PULLED HER ALONG THROUGH THE TIME TRAVEL

wait red is actually pretty good at fighting/athletic/stealthy. she held her own against a charming with skilled swordsmanship

("you're not gonna catch me when i fall" "maybe" with the lil up down checking out red look, chloe PLS)

("princess, goody two shoes, boo" just throwing nicknames are we)

"and if i'm the next princess of auradon, it's only a matter of time before she tries to turn me into a mini-me. i'm not gonna let that happen" okay so that's her worst fear. of turning into her mom

"okay i accept your mission" very knight-ly behavior much?

"i love history! don't you?" "uh uh" help-

whoa merlin academy has a lot of wands and magic around, esp compared to auradon prep

awww hades holding maleficent's hand

it looks like red's never seen musical instruments before with the way she looking at everything and picking them up lmao

bridgella <33

red's reaction to ella's punishment and grounding by her stepmother shows that she's experienced the same thing and is Traumatized

red comforting chloe after they look through the looking glasssss

okayy so chloe thinks red is a bad person just bc she wants to "break in and steal" even though that's like the only option?

gay conversation about red being a good person, "your own person" in front of the frozen vks

red believes she's a bad person herself, "a lost cause" bc she "lie, cheat, steal"

chloe believes she's a good person bc she stood up to a bully and "risked your life to save mine"

okay so morgie was the only one not with uliana and her crew bc he was on the lookout... which i think is an important detail that is different from the og timeline... and he seems nice... maybe he was the one who helped uliana actually open and read the cookbook instead? for the prank? hm

[lowlydogs]

Sub!Konig headcanons.

GN reader. Reader can be read as penetrating/not.

Konig has a very, very conflicted relationship with submission.

Independence is not exclusive from wanting structures to obey. It's why he's snug and relaxed in the military hierarchy: He has a clear place and name, while still having a figure to follow and report to.

The biggest thing that impeded Konig from trying a game of mounting with you was his frail pride. Oh, his pride. The man has the nasty ego of a nerd-turned-frat. Convincing him alone took a month of carefully placed hints and suggestive words to have him skeptically consider the idea.

So, out of goodwill and (mainly) to ensure he doesn't stomp away flustered mid-session, you opted to treat him gently. Make it feel like a situation he can partake in with dignity, not have it ripped off of him.

The first time it happened, to anyone of less experience, Konig might've looked unimpressed and at worst, constipated. You never had him this quiet, nothing but his piercing, consuming eyes observing every move. For the first time in your life, as you prepared yourself and squeezed lube into your hands, you felt daunted by him.

However, eventually, you realize a thing after the initial suspense passes. In solid 5 minutes, Konig has done absolutely nothing but lay supine, legs just silently spread.

The ruthless sniper of Kortac is a pillow princess.

But you're a soldier of your words. Stripping him naked all except the mask on his face and his socks, holding his leg open, you planted kisses on his neck and sunk in. That is when he stops being quiet, as the lewd sound of wet plops and whines (whines) fills the room. Konig came barely minutes later, his leg tensing and his head thrown back. You take him only on a second round, feel this goliath of a man arch his back and palm at you until too shortly, he comes again. You lay down against him and softly caressed his back as he shakingly breathed in and out. That’s how it was. Brief and soft.

Outside the power trip of fucking a man taller than a door and the tantalizing sight of his fucked-out eyes, it was... pretty disappointing sex. You could admit that.

Short and sweet, certain, but you had to jack yourself off afterward and you were certain this was the only time Konig would bottom to you again.

That is, until two days later, you nearly killed Konig flinging a cup of water at him when you found him casually sitting on your barrack bed in complete darkness.

Jesus christ, you're more than open to dom him once more, but couldn't he found any more normal way to ask that?

However, that complaint perished quick on your tongue as Konig tugged at your wrist and reticently pressed it down against his abdomen, pulling you into his open legs. You felt the outline of his abs, his fuzzy happy trail, a shy little bulge in his boxers. God bless his soul, he lasted just a bit longer and held on just stronger. The bed mildly shook as you roughened your pace. He shed tears and wheezed like a particularly pathetic animal, burying his face in the crane of your neck, squeezing your back. He lasted three rounds this time: For that little tenacity, you rewarded him with a good boy. Shivers ran down his spine like he climaxed again. Satisfaction warmly swelled in you as you gently flipped and big spooned him that night, pleasantly spent and exhausted.

That is until you found him in your barracks again next evening. You pushed him out, told him you had patrol tomorrow. Then he was there the next evening. Then the evening after that.

Something in your dynamics irreversibly changed after what happened, that was assured and guaranteed. The package of "Fucking your coworker till he cries" came with a warning label, loud and clear. Hell, you even calculated for it and wrote down all scenarios, of everything that could possibly branch and happen. Maybe he’d be respectful of it, have some maturity, or he’d avoid the topic entirely. The most annoying it'll get is he’d distance himself, or worse, antagonize you. All you expected and didn’t particularly care for, outside of professional reasons. But out of everything, Konig turning up every night hands politely set in his lap is the thing that shakes you off your feet. The sniper had become disturbingly benign, acting more like an awkward teenager than the self-assured bastard he once was.

He was different. He didn’t call you every synonym of an imbecile when you missed a shot. Offered to take your night shift when you bitched about begin too tired for it. Weird backhanded words of admiration that both praised and called you a bitch. In one of the nights he arrived, he had lit candles. Not just any candles. The sexy, rose-scented, red valentine candles. It was getting weird.

You finally fully realized the gravity of the situation on Pizza day. At lunch, he silently shared a piece of his pizza with you. You looked at him agape with horrified eyes.

His pizza.

Did you just fuck Konig into sainthood?

[flightfoot]

Hey I was wondering if there were any creative MLB AUs you could rec? I read ‘the cat burglars guide to unrobbing a girl’ and ‘second chances’ on AO3 and was looking for more. Thanks!

I don't know either of the fics you mentioned. I can rec some creative ML AUs though! I'm gonna focus on AUs that aren't just stock settings, e.g. I'm not putting something like a soulmate AU or a witch AU on here unless it does something creative with that AU.

---

in case you don't know me tomorrow by @thelibraryloser

“We live in a crazy world where pieces of our lives can be erased like they never even happened. I just wanted to memorize this moment so… so I could keep it, if that makes sense.” Adrien's heart gave a little flutter. She wanted to keep this moment, meeting him. She wanted to keep… him. “I understand exactly what you mean." In a world that has created a way to selectively delete memories, no moment is truly safe. So how do you hold on to something when the memory of it is gone? And how do you keep fighting for someone when you're the only one who remembers?

This is a SEVERELY underrated fic. It’s got some shades of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in the world, though the plot is very different - the memory erasure ain’t willing.

Basically, the first few chapters are establishing Adrien’s and Marinette’s romance, and then the rest of the fic is dealing with Gabriel being an absolute DICK and using any means at his disposal to break them apart. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend reading it!

---

Anchor by @liiinerle

“Marinette. Please take that sabre out of your neck.” “Right. Thanks. I forgot it was there.” She grabbed hold of the guard and pulled; the blade slid out like it had only been run through butter. After dropping it on the floor, she picked up one of the teacups and picked up a biscuit from a tin she’d brought in; she placed the biscuit on the saucer plate and handed the whole thing to Kagami, who could only really resign herself to accepting it. ----- Marinette has raised Kagami from the dead, and also happens to be dead herself. It turns out some bad choices were made in the past. But that doesn't mean they'll lead to bad outcomes for them now.

I love this, Marinette’s incredibly blase about being a zombie - which makes sense, given how long she’s had to get used to the idea. And she’s waited so long, tried so hard to bring Kagami back as well, though if she didn’t WANT to be back, she’d accede to that request. Luckily, Kagami doesn’t seem to mind as long as she’s with Marinette XD.

---

The Mer-Human Race by @rosie-b

Bringing her hand closer to his lips, Adrien tried to plant a kiss on it, but Marinette pulled away before his lips could touch her. “Save it for your girlfriend,” she said teasingly. “Or do you still not have one yet?” Adrien smirked and crossed his arms. “It’s a girl,” he said. “And I know her in real life. That’s all you get. Now, let’s get back to planning, shall we? We have a mermaid to beat.”

Lovely world-building here! Merfolk and humans have had a treaty for a long time, so there’s a tradition where merfolk can challenge humans to a race, and whoever wins gets to ask for a reasonable sort of reward (in Marinette’s case, she wants to be allowed to captain a ship at a younger age than is usually allowed). Alya, Nino, and Adrien are naturally very encouraging towards Marinette, and luckily for her, a nice merman going by the name of Chat Noir shows up and challenges her to a race…

Yeah you can see where this is going XD. It’s fun, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

---

The Parable of the Caller by @nemaliwrites

A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest. But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.

I absolutely adore this fic, it’s a fantastic character study for Adrien! Basically in this universe, Ladybug and Chat Noir talked about who should be Guardian, with Chat eventually convincing her that he should be the one to take it on, primarily due to the whole “the Guardian gets amnesia about Miraculous-related matters” situation, and wanting to protect Ladybug from that. Then he finds out Gabriel is Hawk Moth, they take him down, and he relinquishes the Miracle Box and his guardianship to Su Han - all without having a Reveal with Ladybug, since well, he’s not in the greatest shape mentally at the time.

It’s a real treat to see Adrien’s thoughts and feelings about one of the Heroes of Paris leaving him all these voicemails, treating him like this close friend for reasons he doesn’t understand, and just seeing Chat Noir as this outside person. He’s got a very different viewpoint on Chat when looking from the outside than he would from the inside, with being able to see his heroic and good qualities far more easily when he doesn’t know that he is Chat.

Also Marinette’s struggling in the background of the fic with the loss of her partner and guilt over sending Adrien’s father to prison. It gets touched on at various points, and you can tell that she’s having her own story off to the side that we’re just not entirely privy to, what with this tale being told entirely from Adrien’s perspective.

---

See This Chance by @19thsentry-blog

Luka died in 2016. Yep. Crushed by the Arc de Triumph when Mayura’s Robustus slammed into it. It was kind of a big deal, but once you’re dead, you’re dead—especially when there’s no Lucky Charm to bring you back. Luka’s been dealing with it in the typical ways. Written for FeLuka week 2023.

Yes, this is FeLuka. Not one of the typical ships I read, but I ain’t opposed to it, and this is a nice foray into the pairing. I love ghost AUs! Luka’s just fumbling around, unsure what to do with his incorporeal existence, until he starts haunting Felix. It’s an intriguing plot and I gotta admit, I wish it was longer so it could be fleshed out more, but what’s here is good.

---

Stone Streak by KingXuppu

Ladybug and Violet Tigress had been fighting the mysterious Duskwing for eight years now. Through the years, the two have grown stronger together and even gotten married, they are waiting until they finally beat Duskwing to start a family. At least, that was the plan. When Juleka gets confronted with the realization that her friends are starting families of their own, she realizes just how badly she wants to be a mother. Due to unfortunate circumstances, Juleka and Marinette get the chance to adopt Juleka's young modeling friend Adrien. Maybe they aren't quite a traditional family, but with magic, rockstars, and fame, normal was never an option. Via Discovery: There are actually two terms of venery for tigers, depending on the makeup of the group. The first is a streak of tigers and this refers to a female tiger and her cubs.

Now this is a rare pairing, there’s not a lot of Julenette fics! Adrien and Rose actually have some ship tease going on, the whole kid group in canon got broken up into two groups here, one that remained around canon age (so like 13) which notably consists of Chloe, Rose, and Adrien, and then I think everyone else are adults in their mid-twenties. It’s weird seeing Adrien as Marinette’s and Juleka’s son, but hey it works! I love how Juleka really showed Adrien the ropes on modeling and became a Mama tiger for him, the fic’s mostly just very sweet, though with a surprisingly dark final act.

---

Experimental Feeding by Machina_Fun_T

Plagg eats Destruction*. Tikki eats Creation*. They don't explain that to their holders. *Warning - This diet has side effects.

I just found the whole idea here fascinating. Basically, Plagg and Tikki prefer to eat things that align with their concept somehow, and even get boosts from them. They decide not to explain the details to their Holders though (just to mess with them I think) which prompts Adrien and Marinette to both do a lot of experimentation to figure out what their kwami likes to eat the most.

---

A Young Witch's Guide to Cats, Curses, and Courtship by @aidanchaser

On the subject of a young witch’s comportment, there are a variety rules that must govern his or her behavior. Most chiefly, a young witch should concern themselves with the rules of familiars, spellwork, and hospitality. Marinette, an amateur witch with dreams of opening her own shop to sell her charms and potions, spends her days assisting her parents with their bakery and her nights working a stand at the magical Midnight Market. Her busy routine is interrupted by a young gentlemen with green eyes, who very shyly accepts her offer of a dance. But when she runs into him the next day, he is nothing but brusque and downright disrespectful. The only thing more fickle than his attitude, it seems, is his cat. The more she tries to figure him out, the more she is dragged into his world of mischief, high society, and curses. If she could just figure out how he really feels about her, then maybe she’d be willing to admit how she really feels about him…

I absolutely ADORE the magic system in this fic, it's so fleshed out and unique and honestly, I feel like it could be used for a full-blown novel. So much is about intention and finding the right flourish or materials that give the emotional vibe you want for a spell to do what you intend it to, it's fascinating.

I love the intricacies of the story as well. Marinette keeps running into Felix and Adrien, but one of them is a cat and one of them is human, and they look identical so that gets confusing quickly. The old-timey vibes add a layer of social intrigue to everything, as Marinette not only has to unravel the mystery behind what's going on with Felix and Adrien and how to fix it but navigate complex hierarchy's and social norms as well.

If you like fantasy AUs, I highly recommend giving this one a try!

---

Abider by @liiinerle

“Did someone bully you at school?” Kagami clutched Cheng-san’s shoulders. “N-no,” she mumbled. “Did you get a bad result?” “I, I haven’t been registered as a student yet…” “What made today a bad day, then?” said Cheng-san, oozing kindness and attentiveness. “Would you like to tell me?” No. No, she wouldn’t. There was no need to tell anyone something so private only the second time she met them, but also Cheng-san’s embrace was so kind, and yes. “My soulmate,” Kagami said, breathlessly. “I found out I can never have her.” “Ah,” said Cheng-san. “I should have guessed when I saw the two of you… you met her at fencing, didn’t you?” Kagami’s blood froze. She pushed herself free from the hug, stared into Sabine’s eyes. “How do you know that?” There was something about Cheng-san’s expression that felt different from before the hug started. An undertone that made it look like she suddenly hadn’t slept enough. “She is my daughter,” she said. --- Kagami has always dreamt about having a soulmate. And she gets one on her ninth birthday, a girl named Marinette - but Kagami's efforts to try and meet, let alone court, her soulmate, are repeatedly frustrated.

So this is an interesting take on soulmates. At the age of 9, everyone's able to summon a spirit who's said to be your soulmate. This spirit can physically interact with the world and can be channeled to help boost you, mentally and physically. Tsurugitech has a gadget that can scan a spirit and tell you who it is and where they live, which is very helpful for finding the person.

Problem is, the narrative of "your soulmate is your one true romantic partner for life" really doesn't hold up, especially when you can have one person as your soulmate, but they don't have you as their soulmate. Or someone has more than one soulmate. Even MANY more than one. Or a myriad of other circumstances that come up over the course of the story.

The story itself is less about the soulmate aspect per se though, and more about Marinette being almost commodified, considered a public good to an extent, and trying to stretch herself out across many people out of obligation, along with others sometimes trying to decide what's best for her without her input. It's reminiscent of what Adrien goes through in canon in fact, with how he's a teen celebrity, and how he's treated because of it.

---

I Wish I Met You by @cookiedough77

Adrien's mother returns! But now, Adrien seems to acting different, everyone can notice it, even himself. Why can't he remember basic facts about himself?

So this is something I haven't really seen before. Ladybug and Chat Noir lose, leading to Gabriel making the Wish, sacrificing Adrien in order to bring back Emilie. But of course, people would notice if Adrien went missing, so he made a sentimonster copy of him. The whole story is from that copy's perspective, as he tries to figure out what's going on, why he can't remember things, and why so many little things about himself are different from how they're "supposed" to be.

I really loved getting into his emotions, his mindset. He's a person in his own right.

---

I Was Lost by Lady_N

Soulmates were a funny thing. Not everyone had one, and there were multiple ways to tell if you did have one. Some people had marks that would change and bloom when they met their soulmates, others had the ability to write on their skin and have it appear on their soulmates body, and some had a little pixie creature who would look like their soulmate and be a constant companion until they met their soulmate. Adrien had the fourth type; Lost Objects, where whatever he lost would be sent to his soulmate. Whoever that was...

This is a great Lukadrien fic, I love how Luka and Adrien are able to send each other things by "losing" them, though they're not allowed to actually discover each other's identities that way. Adrien's so smitten with Luka it's adorable, I love that for him XD.

---

Abstract Concepts by Plasmus_Dogmatic

Checking his notes once again, the mage gave a little smirk. The Prodigious worked perfectly as a test run, giving form and life to smaller ideas like courage and justice. He felt ready to tackle something bigger. ~OR~ Each Miraculous has a different kind of side effect. This impacts the wielders and the people in their lives, for better or for worse.

I love this series take on Miraculous side effects, it has tons of really short little chapters, like often around 500 words short, that go into the kind of wild side effects they have, how much they change the user, physically and psychologically.

While it's rated M, I think this should be fine for most teens. I think it's rated that for some of the descriptions of injuries that the characters get (not that those hamper them much), but I don't think it's all that graphic.

---

Honey Bites by ZettaWhyNot

After being removed from the miraculous team, Chloe is moping on the roof of her hotel. Suddenly, she is attacked by a bat that bites her neck. She begins to experience many changes including a desire for blood, in particular Marinette's blood.

So this is just an adorable Chloenette fic. They're compelled to spend time together in order for Marinette to be able to help manage Chloe's vampire symptoms, but then they figure out that they LIKE spending time together, and well... I think you can tell where this is going XD.

---

Affix by @liiinerle

Kagami closed the book halfway, with her thumb in the place she’d read from to keep the sides apart. She smiled straight at Multimouse. “I think you’ve been cut apart,” she said. “Like you used to be one person, and now you’re alone. And you need to find your missing half.” Multimouse merely nodded. She had no idea how to reply. “It’s different for you, of course. But maybe you were also cut apart in the past, so you’re double-cut…” “Being cut sounds scary.” Kagami also nodded. “Being cut apart sounds scarier. But maybe if you find the right other person to be with, it’s less scary.” “I’m not scared,” said Multimouse. --- After Kwamibuster, one of the Multimouse clones gets lost and breaks her leg... only for Kagami to find her, and try to nurse her back to health in her dollhouse.

I really like seeing the Singlemouse's thought process here, her mind's very muddled, and she doesn't understand all of what she's seeing or feeling, so the reader has to figure that stuff out based on her descriptions.

---

the art of being a teenage werecat (and failing at it) by TheNamelessOne

Being a teenager is hard. Being Adrien Agreste — a famous model, a local superhero, and secretly a werecat — is even harder.

I love shapeshifter AUs! Gabriel's a dick, no surprise there, making Adrien hide who he is and confining him to only transforming in his room, when he NEEDS to be able to run around and feel the wind in his fur. Luckily, while ADRIEN is confined, CHAT NOIR isn't.

And it turns out that he's not the only Werebeast in the area...

---

Cane by Ragoo

Adrien was twelve when the crash happened. It was raining hard, the kind of storm that made the roads shine like glass and the world blur at the edges. One minute, his mother was humming along to an old jazz record playing softly in the car; the next, there was screaming metal and shattered glass, a twist of motion that didn’t make sense. He remembered the silence that followed. The terrifying, unnatural silence. She died on impact. He survived. But not whole. --- Original concept of Adrien's cane. A little story and one-shot.

I love how this fic showed how bothered Adrien is by people hovering over him, while not downplaying how much chronic pain sucks. It feels very real.

---

Shapeshifting AU by @11jj11

---

Found by chance by Yilena

A girl trapped in a made-up world tries to break free and find a reason for living when nothing around her makes sense. Without a name, no home to return to, and her body moving against her will, she learns to enjoy the small things. AU. (an extra in a comic book wakes up without an identity.)

---

Switch by lunadiane

(What if the Kwami were human, and the humans were Kwami?) A tiny gold creature with cat ears and a tail, nearly white, hovered above him, staring back with forest green eyes. Plagg was a completely ordinary boy who went to ordinary school. A classmate magically turning into a huge, destructive gorilla was not the weirdest thing to happen to Plagg today, this was.

---

Imaginary Friend by Engineerd

Alya went back to typing on her screen. “You’re right,” she agreed. “All that pressure? No wonder Ladybug made herself a boyfriend.” “Chat Noir is not her boyfriend,” Marinette scoffed. In which Ladybug summons Chat Noir as her lucky charm one day. (She keeps summoning him.)