#NOT JUST ONE CHANCE AT HAPPINESS!!! no he left her several different options for what she can do next and left it up to her

[diableriepervert]

xie wang really said recognition of the self (derogatory) but I'll be damned if at least one of us doesn't get a chance at happiness

[archivalofsins]

I'm so late but- I can't believe they just made Amane bad at math canon?!

This was inspired by a conversation I was having with a friend for the most part. Didn't want to get too carried away but love the subtle changes in the minigrams and how they play on the timelines.

That's a D, and even though that's an average percentage in Japan, there's a chance it's not meant to be read that way. Like it can still be average. Average grades are fine but like the difference between this and the timelibe interests Mr.

Because this Minigram comes directly off of the last one with Shidou. A minigram that they also took some creative liberties with for comedic reasons. Yet that one ended with Amane searching for a new teacher not going to find Kotoko like in the original timeline interaction,

20/06/13

Amane: ……what’s wrong, Shidou-san? Your hand has stopped marking. This is mathematics, so there’s no questions about the answers. If I got something wrong, please mark it with an X.

Shidou: I…… I just don’t understand. If everything about MILGRAM is true…… why did a child like you have to become a murderer? Just imagining what sort of circumstances must have led to that, it makes me so sad……

Amane: ……*sigh*. Is that right. I don’t think I’m going to get along with you, Shidou-san. I don’t agree with the fact you refuse to acknowledge that I have my own free will, and that I should be held accountable for my actions, just because I’m a child. I may have only been alive for 12 years, but all the choices I’ve made, even if they weren’t the best ones, were entirely my own. What point is there in you getting sad when I have no regrets myself? ……please give me back my test. It seems you don’t have the concentration levels required to be my teacher. I’m going to get Kotoko-san to teach me instead.

Shidou: Amane…… I don’t think that’s true. However smart you may be…… you’re still just a child.

In the original timeline convo Shidou states the things he was thinking in the minigram aloud causing Amane to leave. In the Minigram Amane is just left baffled and confused as Shidou seems to fail to understand what her test even says and leaves on her own.

Like we said before, she doesn't state she's looking for Kotoko, just a teacher who seems capable. She immediately disregards Futa as an option. Something also done for comedic purposes.

So the test Amane gives Kotoko to grade in this Minigram is still the mathematics one. Unlike in the portal timeline when the interaction between her and Kotoko is several days after her one with Shidou,

20/06/18

Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this.

Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach.

Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that.

Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

In contrast to the timelibe interactions that happeb a good bit away from each other, the Minigram is more meant to document her starting out bring tutored by Kotoko. Not her falling out with tutors like we see in the timeline. This right here is all about timing.

First, do you notice how in the minigram they stay away from the treat you like a child conversation entirely? Only focusing on how Kotoko likes ambitious people like Amane, the grades, and the need to improve them in this area. That's a stark difference from the original timeline.

Plus, notice how the timeline has Mikoto and Kazui there. Two people she asks for help at different points in the timeline. Well, more so take note of how this minigram uses Mikoto specifically. The Minigram uses him to emphasize and announce to everyone that right now, this isn't about language.

The topic that he and Amane excel in or have a good grasp of,

Q.01 What’s your speciality skill?

Amane: I don’t think I have a particular skill. Would studying count? I’m good at Japanese language.

It's about math. It's still about the math test from the previous Minigram. You know what's not the timeline interaction that takes place five days after she did that test and ended the conversation stating she was going to Kotoko. From how Kotoko and Amane are speaking in the June 18th timeline, it's implied she's been helping her for a minute. She's probably been helping her since what occurred on the 13th with Shidou.

Does anyone here think it would take Kotoko five days to grade a math test? No probably not. So she's more than likely grading a different exam all together.

I believe Kotoko's wording is important in this timeline. Because she says, "Even though you act like this, it's not like you're super brilliant at studying or anything, huh?"

What about the way Amane behaves would imply she'd be good at math or studying?

They even change this in the minigram instead having Kotoko state,

"How do I say this... For the way you act, you aren't a good student, are you..."

Along with the visual, which implies that Kotoko isn't just saying this based of Amane's grade but how Amane reacted to it. She wasn't surorised or upset in fact she seemed like she expected it.

In the timeline, while Kotoko still attempts to find the right words, she's more matter of fact. Even though it's still a question she flat out forgoes saying she's not a good student and states she's not brilliant at studying or anything. Just point blank you're not amazing at this.

If the thing she was discussing here was in fact Japanese language, the thing that Amane says she's good at. That would hurt a lot more than saying it about math something she doesn't state she's good at it. Plus it's be easy to assume she's excel at that based on how she speaks or being like that.

So yeah, that's why I think this is probably a case of two different things being graded. Not her grade being changed. I want to hope for a part three since she took note of what Mikoto said about being able to help with debate and discussion, but who knows.

[luniax13]

Yandere Tartaglia x Reader 2.0

SFW

Part 2

TRIGGERWARNING: indicated threats, theft of freedom, mentioned cosequence of drug-abuse, jealousy

Summary:

The game was fun, maybe he grants you a deal out of mercy

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"What is it, that you wish for, my love", he asked as he carried you back to the tunnel. You frowned. All your hope was lost as he stepped into the darkness. "I think you know that by now. I told you many times before", you sighed. He smiled. "But how could I set you free, if it's you, who keeps my heart captive in her hands?", he questioned. You felt the urge to cry. "You say, you would grant me any wish, right?", you asked hoping for a new chance of freedom. "Anything but freedom, my dear.", he mused. "I wish to visit a friend of mine, that lives near the academia.", you tried to change his mind. You didn't want to return to his cold home.

He stopped in his tracks. "Was that friend the reason for you to try to escape?", Tartaglia interrogates, his voice cold without the slightest track of his cheerfull mood, in which he had been just mere seconds ago. You swallowed hard. "No, it was my own decision.", you explain suddenly fearing for Cynos life. Sometimes you forget just how dangerous Tartaglia can be. Sometimes it still feels like he's just a customer at the small café you worked at. When you didn't know, who he was. Who knew, being kind and treating one another like humans, would get you tangled up with the Fatui like that. Would get you an unwanted engagement with the 11th Harbinger.

He stayed silent for a moment longer as if to determine, if you spoke the truth or not, before talking again, in a more happy tune. "You're in luck, her majesty, the tsaritsa, allowed me to have something of the kinds of an vacation. I have to admit, I have never been to Sumeru before.", he stated, slowly letting you down to let you stand on your own feet again, carfully observing your physical state. Tartaglia was holding you close as he noticed, how hard standing was for you at the moment. "The dose was too strong.", he cursed himself. "Nearby is a village. Someone who is somewhat versed in the means of medicene lives there.", you mention, trying to help and to get to your goal of freedom. Tartaglia seemed to consider the options before sighing defeated. "Alright, let's get you there, my dear.", he decided, before picking you up again.

"She seems to be just a little exhausted, which is why she hasn't recovered from eating the mushroom yet." explained Tighnari to Tartaglia, as you were urged to lay down. You were at the brim of unconsiousness. "She will need some sleep and should not do any work, that is hard on her physical condition", the forest-ranger elaborated further. Tartaglia nodded understanding. "I will stay by her side.", he promised. It wasn't only a promise to protect you, but also to never let you slip away from his side ever again. You were the furthest away from feeling protected near him, espacily when Tighnari left the two of you alone. He sat down beside you, staring at you with absence to his look, as if he was in a different world, eyes as lifeless as always. It was hard to follow Tighnaris suggestion to try to sleep, with his contsant staring letting you feel uncomfortable. Suddenly, he blinked and layed down next to you, the bed being barely long enough to fit his tall figure. You gave him a confused look as he made himself comfortable, enjoying the luxury of a bed. "Remember, that I accompanied you, meaning as long as you didn't have bed, I didn't have a bed.", he explained amused of you staring at him.

"Greet Cyno from me, if you get the chance and remember to not eat any strange mushrooms on your way.", Tighnari wished you good bye, before returning to his duties.

After several hours of walking, the two you finally arrived at entrance to Sumeru City, asking arround for the General Mahamatra. Tartaglia was visibly annoyed, knowing you knew another man of high status. As you reached the main building of the academia, Cyno coincidentally stepped out of the main entrance, cheering up as he layed eyes on you, mood changing drastically into an irritated expression as soon as he noticed the 11th Harbinger by your side.

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//AN: let's see how this evolves

here's Part 1

[little-peril-stories]

Happy STS, Kate!

In TQOL, we explore a very different alternate reality for Bree, but what about Will's alternate reality? Specifically, if IA had never existed for whatever reason, what would Will be doing when we meet him? Would he be happy? And, of course, would he have ever had the opportunity to meet Bree (in either of her two alternate realities)?

Who wants to see what the inside of my brain looks like?!

[Image ID: a spiral notebook with several messy diagrams that look like a mix of a flowchart, a mind map, and a probability tree, detailing all the ways Will's life could have gone differently, including the plots of The Prince of Thieves and The Queen of Lies. There are some random Victorian professions scribbled in the top right corner. The top left corner has CHILD LABOUR written in all caps. End ID.]

Will's alternate reality!! I hadn't ever really given much thought to this, other than a throwaway line in a Jamie chapter somewhere where he wonders what their lives would have been like without IA. Let's discuss.

I think there are so many different stories contained in this question, especially if we entertain the possibility that the Wardrew parents didn't die [when they did in canon].

OK OK first let me address the very obvious CHILD LABOUR note in the picture. 😅 I am OBVIOUSLY staunchly against child labour; it was just a note to myself that in this time period, it was definitely something he might have been subjected to, whether or not the parents were around. Please note that the diagram does point from 'work young' to 'injury/death.' Because child labour is dangerous and bad. Especially in mines, mills, and factories, which might have been common places where kids were 'employed.'

I think Will could potentially head into happily ever after if he'd been forced encouraged not to skip school (as we know he was doing pretty early on) so he could maybe develop better math and literacy skills, meet more people, make connections, and gain a few more transferable skills.

What does HEA look like in this time period? I mean, idk. Maybe he gets into a job he enjoys - not necessarily getting rich but maybe at least having a stable income and not having to worry about starving to death. Maybe he gets married to someone he loves and starts a family. Or maybe that never happens and he happily flirts his way through his entire life like a rascal. 😂

I do think it's realistic to consider some options where he doesn't necessarily get a happy ending, or where he gets It after a great deal of struggle and strife - this is Will, after all. There's no IA, but impulsive and rebellious lil bro just joins someone else's gang. Oops, now we're where we started. 😅 Maybe the family remains in poverty and we're dealing with a workhouse or debtor's prison situation. Maybe, out of desperation, Will joins the navy or army - I can't speak to all time periods, but in the ones I'm familiar with (1812 / 1830s British army), many men enlisted when they felt they had absolutely no other options. I think even without IA, there are a lot of ways Will could screw things up for himself. (love you little buddy!!)

Any chance he could have met Bree somewhere in any of these realities? 💕 Sure, why not!

Maybe he lives a fairly ordinary life and they have a deliciously, disgustingly cliche meet-cute.

Maybe he gets a good job and she comes in one day to...idk, place an order or buy something, or he rolls into her house sweep the chimney, or idk, pick your fave cute Victorian profession. 😊 He immediately flirts with her in this scenario, btw.

Maybe he does some sort of job in her family's home (like Jamie once did) or 😈 in her and her husband's 😈 home, and they meet that way. (I like this one. 😊)

Maybe Bree's parents died when they did so they BOTH work in some rich person's household - she perhaps as a maid or something and he as a gardener or something. (I also like this one. 😊) A similar idea would be where they both work in the same awful, not-so-cushy workplace like a mill, factory, etc.

Thank you for this question! It was so fun to consider and answer. 💕

[sparkywrites25]

Fortune's Wheel

Summary: In another life, things worked out quite differently for the star-crossed lovers. This is that life.

Chapter Summary: A reality check at the mail office inspires Father Laurence to revise his plan for the star crossed lovers.

Pairing: Romeo Montague x Juliet Capulet

Notes: In this story, I've bumped up Juliet's age to 17. Romeo is 18 here.

If you like my work and want to see more then please join my taglist. Form is pinned on my blog.

The priest scanned the delivery options and speeds with a critical eye. His attention wandered to the clock now and again, conscious of every second that passed. With that acknowledgment of time came reminders of Juliet’s desperate face and the terrible image of her holding the gun up to her head. The knowledge of what she might do if this scheme didn’t come through as it needed to haunted him. Even if he were not invested in the reunion and happiness of these two lovebirds, he needed to save the girl from such a terrible fate. Lord knew what Romeo would do if he were to find out what had happened. They were both so wrapped up in matters of their hearts and loving each other too passionately. It was like watching a wildfire beginning, knowing how much damage it could do if it continued to rage with that temperament. These children needed to cool themselves before they burned everything around them with their love.

Around him, the mailing center was busy and bustling more than usual; it didn’t fill the holy man with much hope about the safety of the letter and the speed in which it was to get to Romeo. Even the options available had their risks. The time frame for this plan to go off properly was so short and plenty of accidents and mishaps happened in the mail room.  He sighed and wandered towards the queue. He could at least ask them which was the best service to opt for. Standing here indecisively was only going to delay everything.

Once more he glanced at the clock. In a few hours, Juliet would be taking the potion. The letter needed to be sent immediately if it was going to have its best chance of reaching Romeo in time for him to rescue Juliet from her fake death. As Laurence stepped into the queue, a grumble sounded from his left. 

“So yet again, they’ve lost my letter,” a dark-skinned man was saying, gritting his teeth as he walked away from the customer service desk with his wife. “Why do we still use them?” he added, shoving one hand in his pocket. His wife spoke softly into his ear, hanging onto his arm and stroking his bicep soothingly. 

“I’m sorry, sir!” The man behind the counter called after the stranger but received no reply. 

The priest stared down at his own letter in severe contemplation. Perhaps the situation that he’d just overheard was just a freak incident and not the norm. Maybe his letter would arrive to Romeo without trouble and everything would run smoothly. It was certainly possible but could he really afford to gamble this whole scenario on the chance that the mail would arrive in time? What if this wasn’t the only case today? What if there was a problem with the mail? Would it not be reckless to take that chance with this letter?

He approached the counter himself. Fortunately, there was only one customer ahead of himself and they concluded their business within a minute. As soon as they’d moved away, the holy man bowed his head in a respectful nod as he approached the desk. “Good afternoon,” he said with the thinnest smile. “Is there a service that can guarantee this letter’s arrival by tomorrow morning at the latest?” 

The customer agent eyed Laurence and then the letter he carried. “At the moment we’re extremely busy so, while we can guarantee the letter arriving tomorrow, I couldn��t say if it would get there by morning.”

Laurence wet his lips thoughtfully and this eyes widened in hope. “Perhaps the afternoon then?”

“Again, I couldn’t guarantee. We do evening deliveries as well so it might not make it there until then.”

Evening is too late for Juliet. Laurence thought irritably. “Thank you for your help,” he told the young man politely. “I’ll deliver it myself, I think. I can spare the time.” 

With that, he left the desk and strode towards the exit. The letter would have to be delivered in person, that much was painfully obvious. Romeo needed to be in the church by ten o’clock tomorrow night. It would be too late to wait for him to receive the letter then. 

Despite what the priest had just declared, he didn’t have the time to drive to Mantua and fetch Romeo. But maybe someone else could. He might have just the person in mind. 

— — — — — 

It made the most sense, the priest thought, to only involve someone who knew about the secret marriage. Juliet’s nurse was out of the question. It would look strange for him to suddenly call on her so late at night and it would definitely be too strange to ask her to travel to Mantua to deliver a message to Romeo. It would raise too much suspicion and questions, and, at any rate, she was needed by Juliet’s side. So then that left Romeo’s cousin Balthasar who had also witnessed the ceremony. Balthasar was a far better candidate for such a task since he was generally overlooked by people and didn’t draw a great deal of attention to himself. As the closest person to Romeo and an assistant in smuggling him out of the city, Balthasar was the ideal envoy, upon consideration. 

Finding the boy was the biggest obstacle to this stage of the plan and it would involve more deception which, in all honesty, the priest was not so happy about. But, in this case, the deception could save two lives if not more and bring about the possibility of an end to this feud between the two families. When you looked at it from that bigger picture, as God must surely do, then surely this was a needs must situation? 

Laurence drove over to the Montague estate at once. The sandstone of the manor shone golden under the warmth of the sunlight. Laurence walked under tall archways into a spacious courtyard. In the heart of the courtyard, a fountain rose up depicting four men back to back, swords extended in different directions; the four Montague brothers who had started the family business over 500 years ago. The rim of the fountain was engraved with some of the most famous of descendants since then. Three quarters of the rim had been filled in with these names. As the priest looked down at them, he wondered if there was any possibility that Romeo could have his name down there one day. Perhaps the Montague who healed the rivalry with the Capulet. If that wasn’t something to be recognized for then this world was a sadder place than the holy man imagined. 

He continued past the fountain and ascended the stairway towards the main entryway into the house. Once invited inside, he inquired about Balthasar and whether he was free to assist with some manual work at the church for some coins. As the youth was often being denied an extension to his allowance by his family, the offer was welcomed immediately by the young man himself as well as his relatives. There were no arguments as the priest led the young man away from the house. 

“Is everything okay? Is it Romeo?” Balthasar asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the building. “Have you any news?”

“Not about Romeo,” Laurence explained, taking the boy’s elbow. “But we have a new situation to contend with.” 

Balthasar whitened and gestured to the park across the road from where they stood. “This is a quiet place to talk, Father,” he murmured. 

They walked into the park and settled themselves on a secluded bench behind a cluster of trees. There were few people around and no one paid much attention to the holy man and the young man sat in secretive talk beneath the shadows of said trees. 

“What’s the matter?” Balthasar questioned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Although he was shorter than Romeo and had a little more of a feeble look about him when it came to his build, priest Laurence could see the same eagerness and brightness in his eyes that his older cousin showed of late especially when it came to Juliet and their marriage. Like Romeo, Balthasar had been very much untouched by the majority of the rivalry between the two families. Unlike Romeo, however, Balthasar still flew under the radar, behind the more enthusiastic players in this blood feud. 

Laurence glanced around them one more time to ensure there were no eavesdroppers and then he began to tell Balthasar the situation. “The Capulets want Juliet to marry Paris tomorrow morning. The girl has gotten herself quite agitated and upset over it.” 

“As she should,” Balthasar’s brows knitted so tightly that his face seemed to age with the wrinkles in his forehead, “after all, she already has a husband who is very much alive.”

“Yes but of course the Capulets do not know that,” Laurence reminded him. “God only knows what they would say if they knew that their daughter had married their enemy.”

“They’re going to have to find out now, aren’t they? If she marries again, she’ll be committing bigamy,” Balthasar spoke in hushed tones. 

“While that’s true, that’s not the most concerning part of all this. Juliet is refusing to marry Paris, without giving her reasons why and now her family are furious. They are threatening to disown her if she does not obey. If she refuses to marry Paris on Thursday then they will kick her out of the home and the family.” 

“Oh Jesus,” Balthasar ran his hands over his face. “Curse this feud. Curse our families. This has already gone too far. They cannot see the line they have crossed anymore. It’s too far from them now,” he lamented. 

Laurence placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders. “We can lament the families’ pride and ignorance later. We must help Juliet now. If her parents kick her out, where can she go? I have a spare room but that will not stop the Capulets coming after her and badgering the girl into submission, despite their claims of disinheriting her.” 

“She cannot come and stay with us. That’s like throwing her into a nest of snakes that are just as deadly as her own family. Benvolio would be a gentleman, I am sure, but the rest would not care to give her shelter,” Balthasar mused. 

“Exactly. Her options are limited although she and I have begun a plan. Though it is as desperate as it is dangerous.” priest Laurence answered. 

Balthasar fixed him with a confused look. “What plan is this?”

The priest bowed his head. “Juliet came to speak to me about the plan to marry her to Paris. She was extremely distressed and panicking. She brought a gun with her to church.”

“A gun?!” Balthasar exclaimed. “Where the devil did she get…?” He instantly began to cringe. “I expect she got it from Tybalt’s quarters or such like. The Capulets have their means, after all.” He shook his head. “What did she intend to do with it? Shoot Paris? Is she so desperate?”

“Paris was not the intended target for her,” Laurence whispered. “She threatened to kill herself before anyone could make her marry Paris.”

Balthasar covered his mouth with one hand and turned away. “God, how have we ended up in this situation where that could even be considered? How have things got like this?”

“Calm yourself, Balthasar,” the priest urged him. “Her desperation gave way to a better idea, from my mind.” As the young man returned his attention to him, Laurence continued. “There is an extract from one of the plants I work with. It can mimic death for 24 hours and in 24 hours, things can change for the better.”

“How does her faking her death make this any better?”

“Because it frees her from the Capulets’ plot to marry her off and it can resolve her separation from Romeo at the same time.”

Laurence watched the realization dawn over Balthasar’s face. A smile began to grow like a sunflower stretching up towards light and hope gleamed in the same promising eyes as his cousin. The young man straightened up and gave an understanding nod. “Romeo can come back and take her away with him to Mantua.”

“Yes,” Laurence confirmed. “They can wait it out there until we can resolve things with Captain Prince. As for the Capulets, well they will either come round to the marriage once it goes public or they will leave her for good. They cannot undo what has been done before God. If we can pull this off tonight, Balthasar, those lovebirds will be free and there may be hope to end this bloody feud at some point too.”

“I hope so,” Balthasar leaned back on the bench and ran his fingers over his mouth. “It’s uneasy to live in a city where you feel like you might get picked off by your enemy at any moment. Yet it seems too good to be true to imagine it all ending.”

“We can make it become more of a possibility,” the priest assured him. “But first you must go to Romeo and explain the situation. Juliet is going to take the concoction before bed tonight. You must get Romeo back here by tomorrow night. Ring me once you’re there and I will have an update.”

Balthasar gave it some thought. “I’ll leave this afternoon and spend the night there.”

“Make sure that you have a strong alibi,” the priest remarked. “I’m sure the Prince’s forces are expecting Romeo to smuggle himself back into the city. We must be prepared for that and to make a plan around that if we have to.”

Balthasar frowned. “That could throw a mighty spanner in what we’re trying to do, Father.”

“I know, my boy.” Laurence patted the boy’s shoulder. “We’re going to have to be very careful and stay in contact as much as we can. We have to be ready to smuggle both Romeo and Juliet out of the city tomorrow night too.”

“Perhaps we can get Benvolio involved,” Balthasar suggested. “He loves Romeo. I’m sure he’d do anything to help him.”

“Hang fire on that for now,” Laurence advised, “at least until the plan is underway. If he doesn’t help then we need to give him as little time as possible to cause any trouble he may do so. We need to be able to proceed with the plan.”

Once again, Balthasar nodded although he was still frowning. “We’re not going to have much time to try and get him on board, are we?”

“No,” Laurence agreed. “But he’s not a vital part of the plan. As soon as Romeo has retrieved Juliet then we may need to lay low a while. In which case, you can appeal to Benvolio for assistance. Until we get those two ready to go, it doesn’t matter if Benvolio will help us or not.”

“Good point.”

Laurence stood up. “Take this letter,” he said and held out the paper which Balthasar took as he rose to his own feet. “Make up a believable story for your family to explain your absence. No!” He suddenly held up a finger. “Tell them that I have you running an errand to collect some artifacts for the church. It’ll be a long trip so you won’t be back for at least a day or so. You can stay with me until the time is acceptable for you to return.”

“Okay, got it,” Balthasar agreed, the relief evident on his face that he wouldn’t need to conjure the lie himself. And really, part of it wasn’t a lie. He was helping the priest with an errand, after all. It just wasn’t an artifact that he was going to retrieve. 

He tucked the letter safely away in his jacket pocket and so he and Laurence began their journey out of the park, rejoining the main pathway as they did. 

“Good luck,” the priest told him once they had left the park. “Do what you can to keep Romeo calm until tomorrow night.”

He was met with a grim smile as Balthasar contemplated the emotional state his cousin would be in once he learned what was happening and what Juliet was going to do. 

— — — — — 

The drive out to Mantua gave Balthasar plenty of thinking time. He thought about this long feud between the Montagues and the Capulets and how many people of both families had met their end in the bloody battles and the dirty tricks both families had pulled in each other’s business dealings. He thought about how the fates had aligned to make a child of both families fall in love with each other. His thoughts turned to the dead and innocent Mercutio and the bloodthirsty Tybalt who would have nothing but vengeance. Blood was running through the streets of Verona and there was only so much the civilians could take regarding this feud. Captain Prince and everybody else was heartily sick of the situation. 

I can’t blame them, Balthasar reflected as he drove past the boundary line of the city of Mantua. He found himself breathing easier as he did. He was in safe territory now. Away from the vengeful, bloodthirsty eyes of the Capulets and away from the domineering drive of the Montagues. Here, he was just Balthasar and he was on his way to visit his cousin. There was nothing complicated or fearful about that. This was a place where Romeo could start again, and Juliet too. 

The lodgings that had been provided for Romeo was a small caravan on the edge of the city. As Balthasar left the cool shade of the city shadows behind him, he felt the sunlight roasting him through his windscreen, blinding him with its light. He grabbed for his sunglasses and pushed them over his face. Instantly his view improved and he began to glimpse the caravans dotted around the open space. 

He turned the car towards Romeo’s caravan and smiled when he spotted the young man sitting in the doorway. Pulling up outside the caravan, he watched his cousin look up. 

Romeo tossed a cigarette to the ground, a smile breaking out when he recognized his cousin getting out of the car. He hurried forward to wrap Balthasar in a warm embrace. 

“Am I glad to see you, cousin!” he exclaimed into the hug. “Have you got news already?” he asked, pulling back at once to look into Balthasar’s face. 

Balthasar fixed his most calming smile onto his face. “Nothing about your punishment yet.” He told his cousin and stepped into the shade offered by the small awning hanging off the caravan. The cooling shadows soothed the burning feeling on his cheeks. 

Romeo stepped into them with him. “But something is going on?”

Balthasar nodded his head, maintaining his smile. He had expected Romeo’s impatience given that his cousin was separated from his true love. Though how his cousin could be so certain of that love after knowing his wife less than a week, Balthasar did not know. He expected that the certainty came with the feelings themselves. Perhaps he would know it if it happened to him. Although hopefully his own love life would not be nearly so complicated. 

“Laurence has explained it all in this letter to you. He’s much more eloquent and I am still digesting it all myself,” Balthasar admitted as he took out the letter and handed it to Romeo. He stepped closer to his cousin and stared down at the words written by the priest. 

Dear Romeo,

I hope that you are settled in a safe place for the time being. I write to you because a need has arisen to reunite you with Juliet sooner rather than later. The Capulets are pressuring her to marry Paris, the Governor’s son. She has refused and has enraged her father who is threatening to disown her. Despite his threats, she and I both share the belief that her family will not let her go so easily and will bully her into this marriage. The distress that your wife has endured is immense, on top of everything else that has happened recently. She came to me and begged for my assistance otherwise she would take her own life. 

“Juliet, take her own life?!” Romeo’s head snapped around to look at Balthasar. One of his hands grabbed onto the smaller man’s shirt roughly. “She needs to be stopped. She needs to be watched!” Grief and horror battled their way across Romeo’s features and his eyes flashed wildly. “There must be another solution. I cannot lose her to death!” he began to lower the paper as his eyes immediately focused on Balthasar’s car. “We need to stop her.”

He began to make for the car but Balthasar, instinct kicking in, instantly stepped in the way and pushed his cousin back with a strength he didn’t expect himself to have. Romeo stumbled back, gritting his teeth and shooting Balthasar a death glare. 

“You’ll try and stop me? Really?!” he scoffed, charging towards him. 

Balthasar grabbed hold of his shirt but this time Romeo grabbed his wrists and resisted him, pushing back against his cousin so that Balthasar stumbled back. 

“For the love of god, finish the letter!” Balthasar yelled as Romeo pushed past him and went to the car. “Juliet’s not going to kill herself anymore!” 

Romeo stopped by the car door, with one hand, his chest heaving with the weight of his passion. Balthasar strode over to him and took his arm only for Romeo to throw his hand off and open the door. “You think I can stay still after reading this?!” he snarled at his cousin.

Balthasar huffed, his usually mild-temper rising up in the face of this difficulty. “What’s one more minute to spare to read a letter and learn that Juliet is not going to leave you?!” As he spoke, he pointed to the fallen letter and then leaned down and snatched it up. “Father Laurence wants you to know all of the truth. Not just half the letter. Read the full truth.” 

Romeo frowned at him, suspicion deep in his eyes, as he glared over the open car door. Balthasar stepped closer to him, trying to cool his own annoyance in his face. 

“Just spare a minute, cousin. Please.”

He held out the letter and Romeo took it at last, returning his gaze to the letters on the sheet. 

I have offered a solution which may bring about happier times for you both and will prevent the young lady from taking such an irreversible path. You know of my work with plants. There is a special liquid produced from one which creates the illusion of death but simply puts the drinker into a deep sleep. Juliet will take this draught and sleep for the next 24 hours. During which time her family will believe she has died. When they inevitably call me to their home, I will arrange for her to be laid in church in state. Tomorrow night, when the potion’s work is up, you need to have returned to Verona ready to take Juliet with you. No one will chase Juliet if they believe she is dead and you can live in safety outside the city. 

I will keep doing what I can with Captain Prince but it may be safer for you to stay away forever if the Capulets discover your marriage, Juliet’s survival and do not come to reason. You are led by hot, potent emotions but for a plan such as this, you need to temper them with common sense and follow my instructions. Otherwise you will be captured and executed and then, I fear, nothing will stop your wife from following you into death. 

Keep Balthasar with you tonight. Tomorrow I will confirm when Juliet is in my care and when it will be safe to retrieve her. 

Yours sincerely,

Laurence

Romeo stepped backwards away from the car, breathless from the strange read and his previous exertion. “This is dangerous work. What is Juliet doing? Why did she not just run away?” His attention snapped to Balthasar. “You could have brought her here tonight!” 

“I know!” His cousin agreed. “But then the Capulets would have been chasing her.”

Romeo ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “What if the potion goes wrong? What if she dies for real? This isn’t like being given medicine by a doctor. This is… this taking drugs!” he exclaimed. “She’s gambling with her life.”

“And you’ve never gambled like that. You’ve never taken drugs.” Balthasar countered. He sighed and walked towards his cousin, taking his biceps in his hands. This time he tightened his grip to make it difficult if Romeo tried to shrug him off again. “The pair of you have been gambling this whole time. Marrying a Capulet and in secret? Going after Tybalt and killing him? You’re lucky not to be murdered or executed right now.”

“I know I’m a fool. Everything I’ve done lately has been foolish…” Romeo argued, “except marrying Juliet. She is the only sense in everything I’ve been doing.”

“All the more reason to keep your head now,” Balthasar reminded him. “If done right, you could have your wife with you tomorrow night and both of you can escape.”

“I hear you!” Romeo snapped back. He pushed at Balthasar’s hands and sighed. “Unhand me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Balthasar hesitated before withdrawing his hands. Romeo walked around him, back toward the doorway of the caravan and so Balthasar followed him and leaned against the caravan while his cousin sank back onto his previous perch. For a minute or two, neither of them spoke. The world blazed cold with afternoon sunlight and Balthasar’s thoughts turned towards the approach of night when Juliet would take the potion and prepare for her strange sleep. 

“I don’t like any of this.” Romeo declared. “I hate that Juliet is putting herself in danger to be with me.”

“Didn’t you put yourself in danger to be with her?” Balthasar remarked. “Staying over at her place hours after you were banished?”

Romeo bowed his head but the corner of his lips tugged up. “Is that your job today? To point out my hypocrisy?”

“I’m just saying you have no room to talk,” Balthasar smiled and crouched down so that he was looking up at his cousin. “Try not to focus on the risks, cousin. Do you really think that Laurence would have recommended this if it was that dangerous to do?” 

Romeo seemed to slump even more. “Even the wisest people can make mistakes, Bal,” he murmured, directing the sadness from his eyes into Balthasar’s own. 

Balthasar slumped a little himself under the weight of his cousin’s anxious and sad gaze. “That’s true. But he was talking Juliet down from killing herself. If this concoction is that unpredictable and he was still willing to use it then he may as well have let her pull the trigger. There must be some safety to it if he’s this adamant about the plan.”

“I want to believe that,” Romeo lamented. “I do. It’s just that he could still be wrong.”

“But if he hadn’t offered anything then Juliet would be dead right now.”

Romeo dropped his head into his hands and growled like a wounded animal. “God dammit, Juliet! I would never want her harmed especially not by her own hand. This is too fucking risky.” His fingers tangled in his blond locks, twisting the fine hairs in growing agitation. “I should have just taken her with me. I should have just fucking taken her then.”

“It was too dangerous. You knew that. You couldn’t predict what her parents would do. You couldn’t have seen any of this.” Balthasar placed a hand on Romeo’s arm. “You did what you knew was right at the time. Things just… they just turned so quickly.”

“What if they catch me, Bal? What if they catch you smuggling me back into the city? Where will that leave Juliet then? They’ll just force her to marry Paris then. Or worse, she’ll kill herself. What if I lose her anyway?”

Balthasar’s hand on his cousin’s arm quickly turned into a light shake. “Don’t go there. We’re not going to let any of that happen. We’re gonna follow the plan. We’re not gonna lose our heads, okay?” He spoke with a voice firmer than he felt but right now his cousin needed to hear it. “We’re gonna wait for Laurence to confirm that he has Juliet and then we’re gonna go and get her okay?”

Romeo tensed under his grip and Balthasar feared that he was about to throw him off again. His hands fisted and Balthasar half-expected that a punch may be thrown. Instead Romeo’s shoulders hunched and his eyes squeezed shut as he inhaled harshly once and then twice. The restraint that locked his body was becoming more and more evident. Balthasar searched his mind for anything that might distract his cousin or at least focus his inclination to rebel on something else. Maybe something that could be productive or useful even. 

“We need to plan your return carefully,” he told Romeo thoughtfully. “You’re right in that they could catch us sneaking you in. Maybe there’s a way we could go undetected. I could steal another car if they know mine well enough.”

Romeo lifted his head only a fraction. “That would just buy us trouble later. If it gets reported early enough, they could catch us while we’re on our way in or out. We can’t draw attention to ourselves.” He lowered his hands from his face. 

“Should I have asked Benvolio for help?” Balthasar wondered, remembering his earlier suggestion to Laurence. 

His cousin shook his head. “No. Benvolio is too well-known in the recent street fights. He’d be just as suspected as you.”

“There’s no one else we can ask?” 

“Laurence is the only one who I can trust with this,” Romeo answered solemnly, “and he is flying under the radar at the moment. He is already involved in this.”

Both young men fell silent again and as they did, Balthasar felt the spark of an idea ignite within him. Small and maybe a dangerous spark. A spark that could cause a fire for more than just the Montague boys. A danger that could light up the priest’s life as well. But if it worked. If the theory proved to work well in reality then it could buy them time, enough time to pull this off. 

“Romeo…” Balthasar muttered after a moment or two, “I might just have an idea about that. But we’d be playing a crazy game.”

Romeo lifted his eyebrows and a huff of sarcastic laughter burst from him. “We’re already playing a crazy game, Bal. What exactly did you have in mind now?”

[marshmallowprotection]

You know the whole thing about Saeran forgiving the people who hurt him and that includes his parents, people seemed so upset by that. But it’s like it’s so complex?

Like as someone with a mother who hit me a lot and was constantly tired in the past. I can’t find it in myself to hate her. I love that the choi twins differ that way. That Saeyoung makes it a point to say it doesn’t forgive them and he’s not shamed for it. But Saeran says he forgives them and isn’t shamed for it either. It’s just how the both of them chose to cope and move on. I find myself relating to Saeran bc of this.

There’s always shows and movies where an abusive parent to child relationship is shown and we see built up resentment which is valid. Those are all valid, hating the people who hurt you and even deciding to put them in a ✨retirement home✨ is valid. But I love my mom so much. We didn’t have a lot and she was disabled living off welfare and social security. And I was always a very sensitive kid. So she didn’t have patience for it or the burdens of life were crippling. She took that out on me as a result. I feel like parental relationships are so complex. I hold grudges against her obviously, a part of me is very angry because of what happened to me resulted. I can’t help but have so much love for her. And I think no one acknowledges that kind of complexity. I felt seen during Saeran’s AE. I never tell anyone this because I get upset if people tell me “wow your mom was a piece of shit” or “she’s a bad mom” like even if that’s technically true, don’t talk bad about my mom 😐 unless someone’s my family I don’t want anyone’s two cents on how I should feel about her.

I love that fact Saeran cried for her, and I found what he said so important. How yeah he was horribly and severely abused, but she’s his mom and after Saeyoung left, she was all he had. And since the difference between SE Saeran and GE Saeran being that one had the choice to escape Mint Eye the choice to seek his own freedom and happiness, the other was forcibly removed and then put in a hospital (even if it was for the best and Saeyoung was out of options). So I found it important that Saeran said regarding how she died, “I never wanted to lose her like that.”

He was never even given a choice to leave his abusive mom. She was just gone one day. They didn’t even find a body. I’m sure he felt lonely and empty, at that moment his mom disappeared without a trace just like Saeyoung did. And he never had the chance to even process his grief, bc for some people a loss is a loss.

I never wanna seem like those type of people who are like “oh but she’s your mother wym you hate her” every victim’s feelings towards those who hurt them are valid. But it never sat right with me that people passed judgment on Saeran for deciding to forgive her. Or saw it as bad writing. Felt hypocritical to me. Like there’s a right way to heal from abuse and Saeran did it “wrong”. It’s not like forgiveness means everything is all water under the bridge.

Basically, if you choose to forgive those that hurt you and that will help you heal? Good on you. If you choose to resent those that hurt you and that will help you heal? That’s just as good too.

I love the choi twins!

You hit the nail on the head. This is personal and circumstantial. As a victim of abuse, you are the only person that gets to decide how you handle your life and the complexities of whatever choice you make in regard to how you feel about your abuser. It's important you make an informed choice based on what you know about yourself.

If you need to talk to other people and spend days, months, years, etc, figuring out what to do? That's perfectly all right, but at the end of the day, you need to be the one that decides how you're going to handle your feelings about the person(s) who abused you. You are also not confined to the choice you make.

If something changes going forward and you feel differently, you are allowed to react that way. If you know you're never going to change your mind, that's also okay. You are the one that knows you the best. Do not let anybody detract from what you know deep inside your heart. There is no right or wrong way to handle this situation.

There is only the choice you make with what feels right for you. What's right for you may not be right for another person and that’s okay.

I don't think anybody should judge Saeran or Saeyoung. They decided what they wanted to do and everybody should respect that choice. It doesn't have to be the choice you make, but they did what was right for them. Frankly, I am so happy that the two of them got to decide what felt right.

There's a reason why you get a good ending by helping Saeran confront his father as opposed to letting Rika handle him. For him to be able to reach the best amount of peace, he needs to confront all of them and find forgiveness in his heart in some capacity. I've gone over the many kinds of forgiveness because there is no single type. He got what he needed. 

Anon, I hope you know you’re not wrong for doing what was right for you. I don't think you're naive and I don't think you're foolish. You know what's right for you and you know how to keep yourself safe. If you know in your heart that the complicated feelings you have are okay, that's all that matters.

When your abuser is a parent, of course, you feel complicated. Society teaches us that we are supposed to love our parents as much as they're supposed to love us. Many abusers had good days and bad days, and that makes it even more complicated for you to come to terms with the fact that they hurt you. Some had a black-and-white situation where their parents weren’t good all the time, and I hope they know they’re justified in feeling what they need to feel, too.

Instead of shaming people or making them feel bad for the decisions that they make to come to terms with what they suffered, we should all be supporting each other and respecting our personal choices. Just because somebody chooses to do something different than you doesn't mean that they're wrong in doing so. You are allowed to have your feelings and they are allowed to have theirs.

As long as you respect and care for each other as fellow survivors of abuse, that's what matters. 

I have my own feelings about the abuse I've suffered. I don't forgive. But, I've been allowed to make that choice and nobody makes me feel bad for it. Nobody should make people who choose to forgive feel ashamed of doing so, however. I find it admirable that there are people that can lighten the load on their hearts by choosing to find some form of forgiveness to find peace. Peace for me won't come through forgiveness. But I salute those that find it in their hearts. 

[unfilteredflare]

Major Persona 3 rant below:

I'm such a HUGE persona fan. And the thing is, Persona 5 has the best game mechanics, UI, and polish cuz it's the newest 1. But Persona 3 has always had the best story and characters BY FAR. The only thing working against it was the mechanics were outdated and unnecessarily difficult at times so plenty of people never gave it a try. So a persona 3 with an updated UI? I would kill for that. My wish has come true and I'm literally vibrating with excitement cuz of my adhd

Persona 3 Reload has the chance to become the best persona game ever made. And I'm fucking LOSING IT

I HIGHLY recommend Persona 3 Reload when it comes out next year. I know I have high expectations and could end up severely disappointed. But I feel like it's gonna be hard to mess it up? Like, yeah they have to update a lot of the stuff so I'm not too picky about certain mechanics. Just so long as the characters and story are faithful to the original, then I will be happy. Bare minimum: keep the story and characters the same and it will be an excellent game. Best possible option: they combine the better writing and FEMC from the psp rerelease with the epilogue they added into the FES rerelease to great the best version of the game

Persona 3 had 2 rereleases with addition content. First they had the version called FES which added in content called The Answer, which was a 60+ hour playable epilogue. Then they did a different version called Portable with the additional content being called FEMC, which involved a lot of rewriting of scenes in the base game. People have been debating which of those 2 versions is superior. FEMC or The Answer. I was always firmly in the opinion of the The Answer being better. Until recently when someone I follow on Tumblr made a very compelling argument for why FEMC is better. So I've been a little conflicted over which is my favorite. So the remake could just be the original base game, or they could add either or both of the extra content. Whichever way it goes will still be good. But I'm praying for them to add both The Answer and FEMC to make the ultimate best version of the game.

OH OOOOOOOHHHH

OOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOD

I JUST REALIZED

THEY COULD FUCKING

THEY HAVE THE OPTION

I don't know how to describe it. But they could finally FINALLY finish Elizabeth's storyline!!!!!!!!! I've spent the last 15 YEARS WAITING FOR ELIZABETH!!!!!

SO LIKE. OK. All the persona games r linked together. They r all canon but the characters from different games never interact or learn about the events of previous games so each one is very standalone. But there r call backs and references to previous games. The Velvet Room and it's master Igor r in every game. He never talks about the previous games but he is always there and very important. He also always has an assistant helping him. His assistant changes in every game. Elizabeth in P3, Theo in P3FES, Margaret in P4, Marie in P4Golden, twins Caroline and Justine in P5. P1 and P2 had unnamed and unimportant assistants. The assistants also reference each other cuz they r all family. So starting in P4, u meet Margaret and she mentions in passing about how she is taking over for her sister who went missing. Elizabeth went missing???? What is this new plotline???? Then Atlus made several spin-off games that were slight sequels to the base games. Like, Persona 4 Arena was a fighting-style spin-off that shows us what the characters r up to after the events of P4. Well, Elizabeth from P3 showed up as a playable character in Arena. And we learned about why she went missing. She has left on a quest of her own. To fix something that happened in P3. And her storyline in that game ends with this implication that what she is trying to achieve MIGHT be possible. That there is an end destination for this quest of hers. So when Persona 5 was first announced, lots of fans were excited and speculating on what the new developments would be in Elizabeth's story. Will she achieve her dream? Will she discover something that makes her goal completely impossible and tragic? We don't know.

No new games have mentioned Elizabeth's plotline AT ALL. Not fucking P5 or P5Royal or Dancing Star/Moon, or PQ or PQ2 or P5Stikers. NOTHING. FUCKING NO UPDATES AT ALL. Let me tell u, the fandom, and me in particular, is really pissed off about it. I NEED to know if she succeeds. So yeah. It just occurred to me that they could use the remake as a way to add an epilogue that finally FINALLY FINALLY addresses Elizabeth's quest. I'm all hyped up again. I calmed down for a bit but now I'm excited ALL OVER AGAIN. I will be SOOOOOO disappointed if they don't fucking mention it AT ALL

Ok. Fuck. Now that I really think about it. Her whole quest is about her trying to change something that happened at the end of the game. So I don't want to spoil it and am trying to be as vague as possible. There is a new direction they could take this game. And that is Time travel. Like, Elizabeth going back to the beginning and this whole remake could be the new timeline she is establishing so she could change the 1 thing. So most stuff would be the same but a major story plot point would be different. And it's not that wild of a theory either cuz Persona 2 established Time travel as a Thing. The whole plot of P2 revolved around time travel so it's completely possible. And now I'm really conflicted. Cuz I would love this to be an update on Elizabeth. But I would also like this to be a faithful retelling of the same story. Idk which way it's gonna go now

Tl:dr

Persona 3 Reload could go in so many directions. It could contain, in any combination, the base game, The Answer from FES, FEMC from Portable, and Elizabeth's post canon storyline. And I don't know which version I would be most excited for

Also I guess they announced a new Persona 5 game. But like, who cares

[hallowcked]

Isadora expected things to get messy when Brooke reached out to meet with her but, the guilt radiating from the other side of the table is terrifying. There's something else I have to tell you, first. And it might make you change your mind about you inviting me to come with you. As an overthinker, her mind races around several different scenarios that her best friend could have done to continue stabbing her in the back. She doesn't want to hate Brooke, they connected on levels she never knew existed. She was her twin flame - her sister; the Mary-Kate to her Ashley and the Tia to her Tamera. Which is why Brooke could tell her she fucked Volchok and although it would break her heart to a million little pieces, she would still find a way to forgive her.

Lucky for her and her fragile little heart, the incident doesn't compare to the agony she would have felt if Brooke was actually having an affair with her ex-boyfriend. "Give me your hand." Isadora reaches across the table and holds onto her. Even before touching her, she knew her best friend was shaking. It's obvious to her that Brooke's had a really bad run of horrible luck with the people in her life. From high school onward, she's been put through the ringer and betrayed by everyone - including the love of her life. There's no way Isadora's going to sit here judging her when she knows if the tables were reversed, she would have made the same mistakes.

"Brooke..." She stands up and maneuvers her way out of the booth. It might have looked like she had enough and was leaving but, on the contrary, she was coming around the table to sit closer. "Sending a dirty video? That's my specialty, girl. I've done it so many times. You don't have anything to feel ashamed of. Does it suck that Seth is such a prick? Yes. But I'm done blaming you for getting caught up in my brother's charm." She releases a soft, calming breath as her fingers toy with the fabric of Brooke's sleeve. "Let me tell you something that I need you to fully listen to and accept...okay? I was never mad that you had a thing with my brother. When Seth wants to be, he's a great guy. One of the best. I love him so much. And I love you so much. If you guys wanted to have fun, that won't upset me. I just hate being lied to. You're my best friend and he's my brother. I know that makes you feel less inclined to tell me things but, you can. It won't gross me out or hurt my feelings. I want you both to be happy."

As for Tyler and the sex tape...Isadora's at a loss. They could try to steal Tyler's phone before they leave but knowing him he probably backs everything up. What self-respecting tech-nerd wouldn't? "The only advice I can give you about the video is, who cares? You're hot as fuck. I've had pictures and videos get out. The only people who care are the ones who're jealous because its not them in the video with you. Guys call girls whores when they can't fuck them - or when they know someone else gets to. Girls call other girls sluts when they can't be them. If given the chance and had our bodies and our options, they would be doing the same fucking thing. You're a goddamn goddess, babe. So it doesn't matter who sees it. One day we'll do a spread for Playboy together and tell them to suck our clits. How's that sound? And in the meantime...keep your eyes open. Top Chef is on his way over. I'm gonna pee!"

Max brushes shoulders with Isadora on his way to their both. "Hey, how was the food?" He's not the best with small talk but, he wanted to catch her before she left. This is his last week at the Diner before he takes his culinary skills to the Rosewood Hotel. Depressed or not, Brooke's still an eye-catcher. He couldn't take his eyes off her and knows she's been eyefucking him right back. "I'm not usually this forward but this is my last week here and I would regret not asking you for your number. I can't get fired anymore so I can come right out and say it...I would love to take you out."

Brooke couldn't agree more with how Isadora viewed it because frankly, she felt the same way. They weren't into each other like that. Sure, they could appreciate each other's beauty, cherish one another's hearts and still remain best friends. People have meaningless hook ups all the time. It doesn't mean they want to run off, get married and start a life together afterwards. Isadora was like a vibrator that doubled as a best friend. She listened to her, offered advice, was there when Brooke needed her most. It's not as shameful as Volchok had evidently make it sound.

So once again, fuck him for that.

"Really?" At the offer to accompany Isadora home, Brooke perks up for the first time in over the span of a week. The thought of exploring her best friend's hometown, reclaiming her stomping grounds and getting drunk while doing it sounds amazing right now. Brooke couldn't think of anything more fun.

( Besides, fucking the cook - who she couldn't help notice was hot and older. Her two favorite things to look for in the opposite sex. And who had been eyefucking her back for the past thirty minutes. )

Which come to think of it - forced a dawning realization on her. "There's just one major problem." And once again, it's all Brooke's fault. They might've called a truce but, they hadn't really addressed the elephant in the room. The reason they stopped communicating and hanging out in the first place. Seth. Brooke had yet to tell Isadora she ran into him at the Halloween party and he extended a similar offer to her. Was he going to be there as well? Would it be awkward living in his family's mansion alongside his younger sister while continuing to shoot down his advances not only because her heart was still broke but for the sake of her best friend's feelings?

"There's something else I have to tell you, first. And it might make you change your mind about you inviting me to come with you. Which, I'll understand." And, of course, she would respect.

"I ran into Seth at the Halloween party. He wanted me to sneak with him out the back and have sex in his car. I told him no because I was there with Tyler and I wasn't interested." There's a deep breath before Brooke forces herself to continue. "Then he asked me to come to Peachtree with him. Get to know him outside of this bubble we're all in." Though, once again... "I said no. He ended up leaving the party and went home, I guess." Granted, the story doesn't really end there.

"Later that night, Tyler was driving me home and the subject came up. He could tell I seemed off after the interaction and I ended up telling him what happened." Then, she made the second biggest mistake of her life. "We ended up pulling over and he convinced me to make another sex tape with him. In the heat of the moment, I was still so mad at Seth for lying to me about being engaged and for screwing my mom that I sorta...." Brooke closed her eyes and flinched as if bracing herself for the impact of Isadora's reaction, "....sent the tape to him?" There. She said it. And my god, did it feel good to get it off her chest.

"I'm SO sorry Is, I know it's fucked up. I actually regret doing it now because Tyler still has a copy and I don't trust he won't use it against me if or when he's feeling vindictive again. I mean, clearly he never gave a shit about me to begin with so who knows where it's at now. Seth didn't seem mad, though. But, I don't know? I get it, if it may be awkward for you or you'd rather I not come and make your life even more of a mess. I am sorry, though. For everything. I never wanted my relationship with him to get in between OUR friendship. It means so much to me, I realized. You're the only person I have left that I still want around and I miss so much. And I never want to lose you again."

[dxringred]

okay, here it is: how ronance can still win but won't because the duffel bags suck. also, full disclosure: i’m british. i have little to no clue about your college system and majors/minors, so i didn’t really. focus on that aspect. under the cut just because it’s a bit long. 

•  nancy is in college studying journalism. no, i don’t know where. she’s either since broken up with johnathon or they’re hanging by a thread so thin and frayed they’ve broken up in every way aside from actually saying it. (in the event of the former, i wouldn’t put it past the duffel bags to give her a new love interest who’s from her class and comes home to visit with her.) she’s stayed in regular contact with robin via calls, letters, and meeting up when she’s at home visiting. it was robin who reached out after she first left, but nancy does at least make an effort to respond and keep it up. she’s probably realized she’s bisexual at this point thanks to her college’s bigger and more diverse library but is still largely confused about how she feels towards robin and chalks the missing her to missing a friend even if she doesn’t miss her the way she misses, say, steve. 

• robin (option A) is also at college, albeit a different one, studying criminology or something along those lines. she always wanted to go but figured she wouldn’t get the chance because she’s poor, but when hearing of that, nancy helped her look into scholarships etc. and she was ultimately accepted somewhere. she is either still with vickie, albeit barely, or vickie has since broken up with her due to the distance. (because she gave me that kind of vibe after how fast she seemed to move from her boyfriend to robin.) she’s long since come out to nancy and also accepted that she’s had a crush on her for a while but largely ignores it because, as far as she knows, nancy’s as straight as a steel rod, there’s a lot of distance, and she’s happy enough with vickie.

• robin (option B) didn’t go to college due to financial constraints. for the first year, year and a half, she continued working at family video until she finally managed to save enough money to move into a cheap apartment where vickie is attending college and fulfill her wish of leaving hawkins behind. she stills keeps in regular contact with nancy and steve and will frequently (but reluctantly) drive down to hawkins to visit him on weekends. as time has worn on, she’s realized vickie might not be her type and/or that her crush was just that; a fleeting thing that didn’t hold much weight past the honeymoon phase. despite this, she’s stayed with her because she still loves her as a friend and, y’know, she’s a lesbian in 80s america. there aren’t a lot of options. (this part also applies to option A.)

• steve is probably still working at family video or somewhere else in hawkins. honestly besties, i know nothing about this man or his aspirations. i always read in fics that his family is rich, but he doesn’t act it since he has a part-time job. i like to think he’s sticking around until dustin and co. graduate, and then he’ll peace out of dodge at the same time as them afterwards. 

so. post-timeskip, it’s spring/summer break. nancy is back in hawkins to stay with her family. robin is back in hawkins to see steve and nancy but is staying with steve or vickie (depends which previous option you pick) rather than her parents because relations are rough if not completely severed. she sees both friends frequently but mostly nancy since she doesn’t get to see her in-person as much during the rest of the year. shit happens with the upside down and the three are dragged into it along with dustin and co. option A, vickie sticks around but is left in the dark for her own safety. option B, vickie sticks around and becomes a de facto member of the group at some point either by accident (because she witnesses something) or because robin just straight up tells her what the fuck is going on. nancy isn’t wild about the choice for reasons she can’t discern. steve has hopefully fucking moved on but probably hasn’t if V2 was anything to go by.

whatever plot the duffel bags haven’t even decided on happens. robin spends a lot of time with nancy because even though vickie is there, she doesn’t really understand the way nancy does since she was in the creel house with robin, and they share a lived experience. after multiple instances of third-wheeling robin and vickie’s relationship, it finally clicks in nancy’s brain that she’s jealous. (or, funnier, she’s ranting about it to steve one morning while downstairs, and he’s like, “girl you are either homophobic or jealous” “oh, okay, so bad or even more bad. thanks!”) the realization clearly shows in nancy’s behavior. she seems preoccupied and all but avoids robin, especially if vickie is around. (example: robin and nancy are researching something when vickie comes in with drinks, and nancy encourages robin to leave with her using some excuse about how she has a good enough lead to manage on her own now.) robin thinks she’s done something wrong. nancy reassures her and lies through her teeth about how it just reminds her of her failed relationship with johnathon. vickie has clocked on to the real reason and probably knows deep down (either from a while back or since they came back to hawkins for break) that nancy’s feelings for robin are mutual. 

blah, blah, upside down plot stuff. there’s a lot of ronance tension, especially when they’re left alone. nancy is aggressively trying to beat her feelings back into the basement with a huge stick. robin is a little melancholic about what could have been but hides it well until you see her giving nancy wistful looks in the background. robin gets injured after protecting/saving nancy from the big bad or some other creature, which solidifies what vickie has already pieced together. (bonus points for any kind of scene where a high-on-pain-relief robin keeps asking for nancy and/or seems largely uninterested in vickie tending to her.) 

in the second to last episode before the climax, where robin has to go into the upside down and/or help confront the big bad, there’s a heart-to-heart between her and vickie about how she might not come back which turns into vickie telling her that if this might be the end, then she should be true to her heart and go after the girl it actually belongs to. robin seems confused and tries to deny it, but vickie assures her that it’s okay; they had a good relationship and she’ll cherish the time they spent together, but not everything is meant to be. robin tells her nancy is a textbook heterosexual, but vickie laughs and tells her she might be surprised before wishing her good luck with a kiss to the cheek. 

more upside down/final battle drama. they defeat the big bad, but at the cost of one of them coming so close to death that they’re holding its hand. (bonus points for the other witnessing it and screaming their name like it’s the last word they’ll ever say.) there’s a mutual deathbed love confession. robin asks nancy if she can kiss her, because i feel like she would ask whether she was the one bleeding out or desperately trying to prevent it from happening to nancy. nancy, obviously, says yes. whichever one of them is dying seems to, well, die. fade to black as the other just starts fucking sobbing. fade back in to complete normalcy. 

now, here’s my super specific take. eleven (or one of the others in her group) is narrating what happened after the fade out. how whoever went into the upside down made it out. how things went back to normal. what everyone is now planning to do re: college and stuff. there’s a scene of robin/nancy (whichever one ‘died’) waking up in bed and the other bringing them breakfast or something before sitting next to them and resting their heads together. “for a while, we didn’t think A was going to pull through. it’ll be some time before they recover fully, but B is taking good care of her, and max told me she thinks there might be something more going on between them.” and then, like, whatever happens for the final final scene.

there. duffel bags, i give you this idea for free. realistically though, i know we won’t get anything even close. steve is going to still be pining for nancy’s ass. nancy’s time at college is going to have made her realize she can’t live without steve or she’ll realize that when he almost dies at the final battle. the end of the very last episode will have her pregnant with her first of six kids, and we’re all going to want to fucking die. the end. 

[bakugosbratx]

Hiiii! CONGRATS on your milestone! You really deserve them and many more! I saw that request were open and would like to request some noncon/yandere Bakugou where if the reader doesn't cum in said time he will let her go and if she does he claims every single hole? Feel free to sprinkle in bdsm I like it all and I'm a masochist ^^

Warning: 18+ content. Sexual intercourse, masturbation, sex toy(s), cursing, yandere tendencies, abuse, noncon, dubcon, degrading, punishment, overstimulation, breeding kink, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much. I love this idea. Yandere is one of my favorite things to write along with bdsm. I’ve actually been thinking of doing a personal one shot like this so I’m happy you requested it. Hopefully it meets what you’re looking for.

Words: 2,605

You thought you were so slick, masturbating while the pro-hero was at work. You thought you were so clever buying that vibrator online. It was hidden inside a stuffed animal so when Katsuki glanced over your purchase before hitting submit, he never noticed. He thought it was just another stupid stuffed animal you wanted for your collection.

You kept the toy hidden inside the bear, but once Katsuki left, you unzipped the back to pull out the pleasure device. The amount of orgasms and cum you produced was more than you have in months. This was going to be your little secret and Katsuki will never even think to look. Except, you seem to not have noticed Katsuki had cameras. They are hidden, of course, but they are there.

They saw everything and so did Katsuki.

You’re used to Katsuki coming home in a mood when he had a long day at work and honestly, Katsuki could expect the same out of you. So, when Katsuki arrived home with his usual attitude, you didn’t notice.

“Y/N,” he called as he closed the front door behind him. His work boots were already off and resting by the couch along with his gauntlets, mask, gloves, and any other armor. You jogged over to him, a smile on your face as you approached the man.

“Welcome home, Katsuki!” You greet with enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck and a soft kiss on the cheek. This was no different than your normal act you put on. Katsuki trained you to act this way, after all.

Katsuki’s hands rested on your plump ass, his red eyes clearly not showing the same amount of enthusiasm you held. When your irises met his, your smile dropped into a concern frown.

“Been good while I was away?” He asked as usual.

You nodded, “yes, sir.”

“Is that a lie?” Katsuki interrogated, raising an eyebrow. You started to sweat and tremble within his hold. Sadly, he noticed.

“No, not at all.” You managed to utter out. A little too quick for your own good.

Katsuki chuckled scornfully. “Really? Because,” his fingers reached into the front of your pants to swipe your delicate pussy. You started to become flustered as he pulled out his slick covered fingers, clicking his tongue at his confirmed suspicion. “You’re one wet little girl.”

“I-I,” you stammered, tears welling in your scared eyes. You mentally cursed yourself for not keeping track of the time. You were enjoying time with your new toy when you heard the door unlock and Katsuki call your name. Your whole core is a slick covered mess and Katsuki knows about it.

“Bedroom,” he delivers a hard slap to your ass with one hand while pointing towards the hall with the other, “Now.”

Not pushing your luck, you did as your told. Katsuki was closely behind you, his dark crimson eyes glaring at the back of your skull. You should have known better than to think you were going to get away with this. Now, you have to suffer through whatever punishment Katsuki feelings like handing out tonight.

Walking inside the bedroom, Katsuki examined the room. The only thing out of place was the soaked gray towel laying on the wooden bed frame. You did not have time to hide it. You could lie about the towel, the vibrator? Not so much.

“I-I’m sorry, K-Katsuki.” You whined as he grabbed the towel. He shook his head.

“I’m sure you are. Strip.” He ordered. You did exactly that.

You stood still, the air hitting your soaked cunt. Goosebumps arises on your arms and you shiver slightly. Katsuki eyes your slick covered pussy and thighs.

“Bend over the bed, slut.” Katsuki demands, pointing towards the bed. Tears are streaming down your face as you do as your told. He spreads your legs apart more so your cunt can weep some more. Using the soaked towel, he cleans you up. You let out pathetic apologies and whimpers, but this did not make Katsuki any less angry.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You repeat with a sniffle, hoping he will show you some mercy when he punishes you. You both know he is a merciless man, though. Your apologies are useless.

Giving your ass another hard slap like earlier, you let out a yelp. “Stand up.” Katsuki orders. As expected, you listen. Katsuki retrieves a dry towel from the bathroom and lay it down on the bed. Your heart is racing and you are clearly nervous.

“Lay down on your back.”

You lay down on your back. Katsuki grabbed your wrist and tied rope around it then proceed to attach it to the bedpost. He did the same action with each limb so you are spread eagle on the bed. So many questions raced through your mind. You didn’t dare ask what his cruel mind wanted to do to your exposed body, but his devious smirk and invading gaze did not help you draw good conclusions.

You were too busy in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Katsuki retrieving your teal vibrator. Your eyes grew wide as he shake it in front of your face. All the dots are connecting and now you understand why he is so mad.

“Look familiar?” He chuckled. “Thought you would really get away with it, didn’t you? I’ve done told you I see everything.”

“Katsuki—“

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses and pathetic apologies for the rest of the night. You’ve done lied to me more than once. I need to teach your lying ass a lesson.” Katsuki scolds.

Turning the sex toy on the highest setting possible, he lays the vibrator on your sensitive clit. You automatically moan and sob. Katsuki snickers.

“Such a selfish whore. Always want your pussy pleased, but never want to pleasure me in return.” He growls them walks closer to you and grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his gaze. “That changes today. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t cum within,” he gazed at his Rolex then back at you,” ten minutes, I’ll let your ass go. If you cum, though, you are stuck with me for good and I’m going to stuff every hole you got. Deal?”

Not giving you much of an option, you nod. You so desperately want to escape Katsuki. You miss normalcy. You miss your friends and family. You miss the freedoms of being a normal human being. This is your ticket out, you better take it.

Gently slapping your cheek, he smirks. “I’ll come back to check on you in a bit. Have fun, cum loving slut. I’ll have fun stuffing you later.”

You watched as Katsuki left the room. Your moans filled the empty space and your pulsating cunt is already begging for dear release. You struggle against the restraints, panting and whining. You wanted out. Katsuki did not tie the rope gently at all. Even if you were strong, these restraints would be hard to escape from.

What was once enjoyable is now being used as punishment. Regrets seep in. You have already overstimulated your poor pussy today. You are exhausted and all you wanted to do is rest, but the loud vibrations are preventing you from doing so. You attempted to withhold your cum. You wanted to so badly. Not only for a chance of freedom, but you will be dammed if Katsuki fills your holes. You did not want that man’s filthy hands anywhere near you let alone his erected cock.

You did your best to wiggle the device off of your clit, but it was no use as an orgasm arise. Gasp escaped your lips as your pussy cried. Your cum covered your cunt, vibratory, and even squirted onto the bed. You began to feel flustered, but your punishment was not over with. You have several more minutes left and Katsuki does not plan on coming in a minute too early. You will be covered in your own arousal by the time he arrives.

Just like he wanted.

You reached your climax again and again, leaving the towel, sex toy, cunt, and thighs soaked. You’re sweating, panting, and out of moans to release. Another orgasm overcame you when Katsuki walked in. A smug grin was plastered on his face as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you meet your next high. This made it even worse.

“I came just in time. I get to see you be a filthy slut in person.” Katsuki teased. You wanted to glare at him, but your eyes are rolling back and any insult came out as incoherent babbles. Your pussy released more cum much to your dismay and Katsuki’s enjoyment. Embarrassment washed over you as Katsuki came over to pick on you some more.

“You done squirtin’ yet?” He snickered. “You soaked the whole damn bed.”

“Katsuki, please,” you whine and struggle against the restraints, “make it stop.”

“Aw, is someone going to cum again, isn’t she?” Katsuki coo’s, faux sympathy clear in his tone. You shake your head no, but by your lewd faces, he can tell your close again. He glances at your whimpering pussy then back at you. “Yeah, you are. Go ‘head and cum for me. I know you got plenty in there.”

You don’t even have the energy to protest anymore. Any fight you have left has vanished as you release, closing your eyes in the process. Katsuki was sure to watch every moment of it, too.

Katsuki removed the vibrator, turning it off. You let out a sigh of relief, but that relief is short lived once you remember the deal. Katsuki is not going to wait until you are ready to be quote-on-quote ‘stuffed.’ No, he is a man with needs that you agreed to meet if you failed your part. You were doomed from the start, in all honesty. There was no way you were going to succeed and you both knew that.

You were untied, sitting up on the towel. You did not enjoy sitting in your pool of cum, but as usual, you have no say in the matter. Your eyes never left Katsuki as he put back the items. Before putting the sex toy away, he looked at you with the slick covered device in his hand.

“We’re keeping this for future use.” Katsuki smirked. You sigh, regretting even buying the damn thing to begin with. It was only a matter of time until Katsuki got his greedy calloused fingers onto it.

Katsuki returned over to you, looking down at you with disgust. That almost felt worse than the punishment itself. Yes, you hated Katsuki, but somehow, you still craved his approval. You did not like making him unhappy. Your body and bones depended on you making him happy.

“Like sitting in your own filth?” He arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“No.” You answer, bowing your head down in shame.

“Why? Don’t like being reminded how much of a disgusting whore you are?” Katsuki tsk. He has always been the degrading type, but when he is angry and trying to prove a point, he is much worse.

“No.” You replied, whimpering slightly. You refused to look at him, but you know he is enjoying this. He enjoys putting you in your place. He enjoys winning.

Katsuki began taking off the rest of his work clothes. His erected cock is already throbbing from watching you bust everywhere. He may not have been in the room physically, but he sure did enjoy watching you downstairs on the flat screen. He didn’t even need to turn on the sound because your moans traveled down to the living room.

“Get in the position I like you in.” Katsuki instructed. Tears stream down your face. You didn’t want to do it. You’re tired and just the thought of Katsuki putting his length deep within you disturbed you emotionally.

“You deaf or somethin’?” Katsuki growls as he grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. “I said get in the fuckin’ position.”

You scurry to do as your told, Katsuki letting go of your hair so you can do so. Face down, ass up is Katsuki’s favorite position to fuck you in. He loves seeing all of your exposed holes to please and toy with. Call him greedy, but he knows you secretly enjoy it too. At least, that is what he tells himself as he makes you moan out his name.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Katsuki praises as you get into position. He spreads you open more so he can get a nice view of all of you. Your cunt is damp and ready for Katsuki’s length, but he is deciding to be nice. “Which hole you want me to fuck first?”

Neither, you thought.

“Any.” You huffed out, wanting this over with already. Your annoyed tone bought you a hard slap to your ass. You wince in pain.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You cry, instinctively. “My pussy, please.”

Katsuki rubs your ass cheek in approval. His hands hold onto your hips, positioning you the perfect angle to take all of his dick. The tip rest at your weeping entrance then proceeds to slide inside. You cry out in pleasure and pain. No matter how wet you are, no matter how many times Katsuki has sex with you, your cunt will never be able to handle all of his girth. Your tight walls will always hug his length to his enjoyment. Katsuki just can’t get enough.

Katsuki continued his constant rough rhythm, delivering a few slaps to your ass and thighs in the process. He loves seeing your ass bounce as he thrust deep into you. The way you sing him beautiful melodies of moans, groans, and whines just encourages his behavior.

“Katsuki—“ You cry, incoherently, as he hits your ass again.

“What’s the matter? Too much dick for ya?” Katsuki mocks. “Bet that stupid little toy of yours can’t make you feel this good. Look at you, can’t even make coherent sentences. Such a,” he grunts as his dick twitches deep inside you, “dumb fuckin’ slut.”

You grip the bedsheets as Katsuki pushes down on your tailbone to move a slightly different angle. Your breast still bounced though they were pressed against the soaked cotton beneath you. You tried to muffle your moans, but Katsuki will not allow that to happen. He wants to hear you stroke his ego. He wants to be reassured he is making you feel this amazing.

Katsuki continued pumping into your sore cunt until he met his goal. You have no choice but to milk every single drop he has to offer. Once you are nice and full of his cum, he taps your putter thigh.

“Sit up.”

As commanded, you sit up. Your back is pressed against Katsuki’s chest. His hand hugs your neck, squeezing it nicely. You cough slightly, looking up at him.

“Think I better take care of this mouth of yours next. Seems to get you in the most trouble.”

“Please no.” You whisper, more tears falling. Katsuki releases your throat, now holding your chin, and brushes them away with his thumb.

“Don’t want me to stuff your dirty little mouth, hm?”

“I’ll be good, Katsuki.” You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, doing your best to sound small. He liked when you sound weak. “I promise.”

“Y’know better than to make promises you can’t keep. You’ve broken several of them already. Be a good girl for me and get on your knees.”

“Yes, Katsuki.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[deedeekpop]

© deedeekpop - all rights reserved. I don’t allow translation or reposting of my content on any platforms without my consent

Summary After meeting him on the bus, you attempt to help a shy music student shake off his stage fright, just in time for his big show.

Word Count 5.4k

Genres Angst, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers,

Pairing(s) college student!reader x pianist!Yoongi

Warnings Mentions of stage fright, social anxiety and depression.

A/N The fourth in the series, and it’s a little different from the others so far. I hope you enjoy, and let me know how I can improve. :)

Series Masterlist     Masterlist

Getting the same bus every day meant you often see the same people, and you get to know all the different personalities that get on the bus in the morning. It was one of your favourite past times, people watching, and it passed time in the dull mornings on the way to college.

It was nice seeing the cheerful old lady, always overpaying for her ticket, and telling the driver to keep the change. And the tired mother, ushering her rambunctious children onto the bus for school.  You even didn’t mind the characteristically drunk person (usually only seen on Monday’s after an all-night bender), who usually just drunkenly wallowed on the back seat.

However, there was an unusual visitor on the bus this morning. Whilst there were always outliers on the bus, other than the regulars, this person was peculiar. He was a student like you, which doesn’t seem strange at first glance, but surely he should be getting the bus every day like you. But then again you didn’t know what subject he was doing.

All you did know, was that he was carrying tons and tons of folders and that this was bound to go wrong on a bus this packed. But what you didn’t expect, was you being the person causing the problem.

As you get closer to your stop, you press the bell, clambering up off your seat and making your way precariously towards the front. Of course, the bus has to make an abrupt stop, just when you’re a little off-balance. You go rocketing across the bus, only to be stopped by someone else who you domino into.

It was him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so happy with your appearance, having been splayed across the floor. He grumbled to himself in annoyance, though you couldn’t hear what he was saying you couldn’t imagine it was anything nice.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, attempting to help him up.

He pushes you off him, grabbing around for his bags and lifting himself off his feet. He grumbles a quiet “It’s fine”, his face flushed, though you couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment or anger. He’s quick to leave the bus when it finally stopped, rushing away from you.

Turning your head, and getting up off the floor. You pick up your bag, ready to disembark from the bus, when you spot a lonely folder on the floor. It has to be his. You grab it, stumbling after him, shouting frantically. But he was already gone.

That was it, the poor guy had left his folder and you couldn’t give it back. What a strange start to the morning.

It wasn’t going well, looking for the mysterious boy. You initially just went into your college, which wasn’t far from your bus stop, but you underestimated the sheer size of your campus. You wandered around the more populated areas of your campus, but there was no sign of him. This only left one other option, which you felt was invasive but it was the only option to give him the folder back. You had to see what was inside it.

Sitting at a table in the courtyard, you delicately opened the folder, attempting to decipher the subject he was doing. It was clear from the moment you looked into it, with the elegantly drawn treble clefts, and sheets and sheets of notes patterned sporadically. It was full of sheet music, so it was obvious that he was a music student.

Picking up the folder, you made your way towards the music department, at least the range you could look at has severely dropped. Now you had more of a chance, maybe he was in a music room? At least somewhere in the department, perhaps a classroom or somewhere similar?

Roaming through the corridors, you begin to lose hope when there’s almost no one there. You pass a classroom of people, but you scan through the crowd and he’s nowhere to be found. Once again, your heartbeat quickens with worry, butterflies rapidly trying to escape your stomach.  It looks like, once again you had set your expectations of finding him on this expansive campus too high. It was your fault that he left the folder in the first place, you felt guilty.

When all hope is lost, you hear the faint tingling of piano keys, following the pretty sounds till it reached a slightly hidden practice room. You peak through the window, surprised and happy to find that it was the boy that you had been looking for all this time. You knocked gently on the door, causing the boy to jump and close the piano in front of him.

“Oh, it’s you again,” You hear him mumble under his breath, “Can you please leave me alone.” Whilst he seemed to have intended it to be polite, the gesture itself was rude. He locked the door and closed the blind without giving you a chance to explain why you were there. You huffed, what was up with this boy.

“Sorry about him,” A voice sounded from behind you, turning abruptly you were faced with a stumpy boy wearing large circular glasses. “He’s not very good with people.”

“You wouldn’t know,” You half-joked, trying to peek through the blinds.

“I can give him that if you want, we’re friends and we take the same classes.” He kindly offered.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I thought about leaving it on the floor, but I was sure someone would take it if I did.” You ramble, trying to explain your gratitude and relief.

“I’m Chaeik, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/N.”

Ever since meeting Chaeik, you began talking to him quite frequently. He was a nice person, albeit a bit shy, and he gave you a lot of info on the mysterious boy. First of all, his name was Yoongi and he played the piano very well. Well enough to be considered one of the best pianists in the school, and a candidate for the national competition. You also knew that you had been invited by Chaeik to watch one of the performances before the preliminaries began.

Yoongi was up against one of the best, according to Chaeik. A model student named, Ji Sungmin, a person you seemed to notice that Chaeik disliked. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why, you hoped that you would find out soon and end your curiosity.

The two men arrived finally, taking a seat next to two piano’s opposite each other on the stage. Professor Na, head of the music department, was judging this head-to-head, and whilst this wasn’t as serious as the competition coming up, you could still feel the tension rippling through the atmosphere.

“Begin,” Professor Na thundered across the echoing hall.

Ji Sungmin began playing, a flurry of notes in a magical fashion. It was quite mesmerising to see someone play in a fashion this extravagantly, but you couldn’t help but be more curious about Yoongi’s performance.

And you weren’t waiting too long, him beginning shortly after Sungmin finished. It was a shaky start, the notes affected by his shivering body (he was in obvious discomfort over the small crowd that had turned up), but once he shook that off he played beautifully. The piece was much more thoughtful than Sungmin’s, as though he poured all of his passion into the music, in contrast to Sungmin’s more showy performance. It was really pretty.

Once it finally ended, the few students watching clap, before Professor Na dismisses everyone, muttering something about looking forward to the performance at the end of the month. This was definitely more of a practice round for the two of them.

Chaeik rushed down to Yoongi, with you not far behind in an attempt to keep up.

“Congratulations, Yoongi!” He smiled brightly.

“Yeah, you were really great.” You praised. Yoongi blushed, looking down as his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.

“Thanks,” you barely heard him whisper.

“What about me?” A rogue voice interrupted, it was Ji Sungmin. “I didn’t realise Min had too many supporters.”

“We’re his friends,” Chaeik replied, not so secretly hiding his disgust.

“I know you are, but you…” His eyes looked you up and down, “-are a pleasant surprise. How long till you become one of my supporters.”

You not-so-subtly shiver in disgust, your face morphing into a frown. You had come to realise why Chaeik wasn’t so fond of him now, cocky wasn’t really your type of person.

“I’m alright thanks, I think Yoongi’s the better performer out of the two of you anyway.” He looked at you in surprise, forcing out a fake laugh.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m deadly serious.”

He scoffs, before picking up his books and storming out like a toddler.

“Jeez, is he always like that?” You sigh.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Was Chaeik’s reply.

After that day, it wasn’t long before you and Yoongi spent more time together. Yoongi was a quiet person, who avoids social situations to the point where he almost came off rude, but you knew he didn’t mean to. Whilst quiet, he was well-meaning, and you hadn’t known someone with such passion for music.

Whilst you were still getting to know him, you hadn’t actually spent time with him alone, your conversations almost always mediated by Chaeik. So today was definitely out of your comfort zone, sat in a coffee shop alone with him, and it definitely showed. Though, you knew that this would be short-lived, as Chaeik had promised that he would be arriving shortly.

You tapped your fingers against the desk nervously, a rhythm building up beneath your composed exterior. It was like neither of you could build up the courage to say something, as though you had nothing to talk about. Thinking of that brought you back to Yoongi again, and how he was looking down at the floor as though he wished it would swallow him whole.

“So… um… how have you been?” You ask, awkwardly.

“Oh, fine. I’ve been trying to perfect this one piece for a while, but I know that it won’t work out in the end anyway. So, I don’t really know why I’m bothering, or telling you now.” He mumbled bashfully.

“Why are you saying that, I’ve watched you play before and you’re amazing. Why are you always so keen on putting yourself down?” You frown at him, upset with his pessimistic attitude.

“Come on, you have to have noticed by now, Y/N.” He sighed to himself frustratingly. You knew what he was referring to, in fact, it was strange that you hadn’t thought of it initially, his stage fright. It was obvious to anyone who watched him before, the jitters that he got whilst he was on stage. It was almost like fear swallowed him whole, and you wondered if it affected his playing, and if he could do even better if he conquered it.

“Can I ask you something a little invasive?” You twiddle your fingers.

“Depends what it is?” he looks at you, unsure.

“It’s just, what makes you feel so nervous up on that stage?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something I hate. The fact that people are judging me, it’s like all attention’s on me and that’s a nightmare.” He shrugged his shoulders.

And at that moment, of pondering and sheer curiosity, your brain pinged with an interesting idea.

“What if I helped you overcome it? It would be great to see the face of Ji Sungmin when you easily beat him.” You grin.

“I don’t know… what will you do that I haven’t tried myself?” He looked at you with interest.

“I don’t know, but I’m full of ideas and it can’t hurt to help.” You were almost beaming with ideas now. Yoongi just sits there in thought, looking at the ceiling until he finally came to a decision.

“Ok, I’ll do it. But you get one chance and that’s it.”

“Thank you, we’ll make you love the stage in no time!”

“I don’t think I’ll love it, maybe tolerate it.”

You don’t have time to respond when Chaeik finally arrives, and the two of you are no longer alone.

Despite your newfound mission to help Yoongi overcome his stage fright, you had little chance to actually help him. You had been brainstorming ideas, but you had such little time to meet up with him and help him, it seemed like he was obsessed with practicing. So, Yoongi had been tucked away in his room for the last few weeks, and you had been waiting patiently for him to finally emerge.

But it never happened, not until the day it was too late. The preliminaries had finally arrived, and you hadn’t gotten any time with Yoongi to help him practice. You couldn’t help but feel anxious for him, and you had to be there to support him, maybe giving him a few tips before he went on stage.

So there you were, once again with Chaeik, sitting amongst a row of people, waiting for Yoongi to emerge from beneath the curtain. You had already suffered through a tedious amount of piano performances, some ranging from beautiful to horrifying. You didn’t know if the university took just about anyone, or if you had just underestimated the sheer difficulty of playing the piano.

Either way, with Ji Sungmin’s performance having ended in a thunderous applause, you were shaking in your boots waiting for Yoongi to enter the stage. But you waited for five minutes, and he wasn’t there, and another few. Professor Na, obviously getting tired of Yoongi’s antics, called out that if he didn’t come on stage now he would be disqualified.

You knew what was happening, and so you rushed down the stairs and behind the curtain, much to the displeasure of Professor Na, who you knew would definitely be having a word with you at the end of the performances. But you couldn’t care less at the moment. You shuffled through the loads of stage clothes and props, finding Yoongi shaking in the corner.

“Come on Yoongi, you have to get out there and do this. If not you’ll be disqualified, and you worked so hard for this.” You attempted to coax him away.

“I can’t there’s too many people. If I can’t do it now, I won’t be able to at finals.”

You sighed at the seemingly hopeless situation, you felt useless that you couldn’t help Yoongi with his anxiety. But then, an idea popped into your head. Yoongi was scared of people judging him, but what if they didn’t know who he was.

You began rummaging through the boxes of stage clothes, eventually finding a mask and passing it to Yoongi, who had begun gazing at you in confusion.

“Put this on, they won’t know who you are then. And go out there and show them what you’re made of.” You instructed.

He took the mask in disbelief and put it over his face, as you guided him to the front of the stage. You whispered in his ear a quiet, “You’ve got this, try and get the best of those nerves,” before returning to your seat next to Chaeik.

“What was all that about?” Chaeik asked. As the lights dimmed, and Yoongi prepared to play, all you could answer was: “You’ll see in a minute.”

It began shortly after, Yoongi’s fingers dancing along the keys in a spectacular fashion. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he played a spectacularly dramatic piece, the notes contrasting in pitch. It was engrossing, and you found yourself unable to look away. When it finally ended, you couldn’t help but give a standing ovation. Even Professor Na seemed pleased.

Though it was short-lived. “Well done.” He complimented, “But next time, the mask isn’t allowed. It distracts from the performance.”

You hated this man, why was he like this.

After the disastrous revelation at the preliminaries, you had all but forced Yoongi to overcome his fear of performing. You couldn’t have a last-minute fluke like last time, and you wanted Yoongi to do what he was best at without fear. You couldn’t imagine how heartbreaking it would be to fear the one thing you needed to do to achieve your dream.

So there the two of you were, in the middle of a busy street, hoping to purge Yoongi over his fear of being judged. You had an idea of what you were going to do, exposure therapy has long since been a controversial method, but the effectiveness outweighed the issues at this time. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and if Yoongi consented to this it was steams ahead.

“Why are we here, Y/N?” Yoongi asked nervously.

“Because you are going to be busking,” Yu said, chipper as ever as you dragged the keyboard and began unpacking it.

“Nonono… this is not a good idea at all.”

“I know how terrifying it must sound for you, but I think you should try. Maybe start with a mask, and as you get more comfortable, work to slowly take it off.” You suggested hopefully.

“But we don’t have a mask, it belonged to the college.”

“That’s why I’ve got this.” You said, pulling out an old bunny mascot head, the only full-face covering that you had purchased from a nearby costume shop.

He groaned when he saw it, out of embarrassment.

“Hey, it was the only one they had.” You pouted, “Plus, think about it this way, if you can perform as a bunny, you definitely can as Yoongi.”

He sighed and put the head on. “Ok...” Came the muffled voice, “Let’s do this.”

It started out slow, but he eventually had gotten a lot more comfortable by the end of the day. You had watched as his hands shook less and less as he progressed, sighing in relief that your plan was working. So you didn’t stop there.

Every day, for the next couple of weeks you met up in the same place, Yoongi busked for a few hours, and you departed back to your normal lives. The two of you got closer and closer, the two of you eventually getting your own inside jokes. Chaeik was surprised, and so were you, because maybe the feelings you were developing were more than platonic. Maybe you thought that his shy blush was the cutest thing to grace the earth.

It was another day of busking, and you met Yoongi at the familiar corner. He had developed a regular crowd, having been posted on sites like YouTube as the mysterious busker ‘Bunny Man’ (people were very creative). It had been theorised online, what he looked like, what he did for a living. Everyone was intrigued by the mysterious talented pianist.

“You ready for today?” You playfully nudged.

“It’s just like every other day, Y/N.”

“I like that you think spending time with me as a chore.”

“Yes. I do. I hate every second of it. It’s like a task I have to complete every day.” He says monotonously.

“Aren’t you a gentleman.”

“Definitely.” He grinned, putting the mascot head on and relaxing into the chair.

It wasn’t long before he started performing, though this time it seemed a little different than usual. It was almost like he was completely relaxed, different from the times he played with his shoulders scrunched in tension. Maybe it was due to the serene piece he was playing, but he seemed like he had transformed into a wholly different person.

It became even stranger when at the end, he pulled off the mask for all to see. It was an impulse decision, his eyes flitting around the crowd nervously, but all they did was cheer louder. For the first time on a stage, you swore you saw Min Yoongi smile. This was a fever dream, it had to be. Who was this, because it definitely wasn’t the shy Yoongi that you had grown to love.

“What have you done with him?” You gasp, half teasing- half intrigued.

“I don’t know, but it’s like my brain snapped and now suddenly it all makes sense.”

“Are you sure that’s normal?”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure as hell not complaining.”

It was finally here, the day of the finals. The atmosphere rippling through the air, completely different to the preliminaries. The three of you (Chaeik and Yoongi) were backstage, waiting for Yoongi to emerge from a changing room. This was exciting. It was your first time seeing Yoongi dress this formal before, and you couldn’t wait to see him flip his tails over the chair.

“Come on, Yoongi, what’s taking so long?” Chaeik called.

“Just give me a second, I feel weird.” He replied from behind the door.

“I’m sure you look fine,” You attempted to quell the nerves he was feeling, pushing down the ones you also held.

Eventually emerging, you couldn’t help but be shocked when you saw him. Perhaps it was because you had never seen him in a suit before but you couldn’t help your jaw-dropping. He looked handsome, though he always did, but the suit gave him an aura of authority that he didn’t previously have.

“Do I look okay?” He asks bashfully.

“Yeah, you look great.” Chaeik gave a thumbs up.

“Yeah, really great.” You reply, suddenly shy.

“Right, I’m going to get me and Y/N some seats. Good luck, Yoongi.” Chaeik waved as he left the room and towards the hall. He left the two of you alone, and though you had both gotten over the awkwardness, it seemed to have reverted back within the new context.

“Oh.. umm. Good luck. I know you’ll do well, you’ve practiced so much. You’ll get it because you deserve it.” You rambled slightly, conscious of Yoongi’s silence.

He didn’t really say much, just staring at you with warm and comforting eyes. You glanced back at him with confusion, unsure as to what he was doing. He hadn’t zoned out, had he? Your brain started to go through anything you said that could be perceived as wrong in the previous sentence.

That was then you felt two arms wrap around you, gently squeezing you. “Thank you, for believing in me,” Yoongi muttered into your shoulder. The two of you stood there, bodies warm against each other, in silence.

“I’ve never not believed in you, Yoongi. So go out there and show them who’s boss.” You smile at him.

“Wish me luck.” He grinned half-heartedly.

And at that moment you decide to do something brave, after all, you pride yourself on being the more confident one. So you do it, you gently grab his squishy cheeks and pull him closer, pressing your lips softly to his. Hopefully, this would be good luck enough.

It wasn’t short enough to be considered a peck, nor long enough to be anything more. It was tender and lingering, like the two of you had moulded into one. You almost didn’t want to pull away, but you did, saying a simple sweet “Good Luck”.

As you parted, Yoongi wore a flustered blush, only just registering your sweet expression. “Ohh... uh, thank you. I’ll try my best.”

It wasn’t long before you were ushered out for the finalist’s to prepare. You gave Yoongi one final smile over your shoulder, before leaving and joining Chaeik at your seat. You wait in anticipation as each finalist comes on and performs, the final performance being Yoongi. You crossed your fingers hoping that it would all go well for him.

Yoongi arrives, the crowd hushes into silence as he sits down ready to play. It isn’t long before he begins playing a thunderously dramatic piece, it keeps you enraptured the entire time. It is by far the best he’s played, leaving the audience at the edge of their seats, his shaky fingers nowhere to be found. By the time he finishes the piece, the audience isn’t quick enough to stand up and give a raucous applause. There was no way he couldn’t win, right?

Professor Na is quick to hush people quiet, studying his paper before giving an uncharacteristically wide smile. He rambles for a couple of minutes, thanking those who came, talking about the importance of classical music and inviting all finalists for a position at nationals on stage. It is only then that he announced the winner.

“It is my pleasure to announce, that the person receiving this prestigious award of representing our school is-“

You lean closer, in anticipation.

“-Ji Sungmin.”

Your heart drops, Ji Sungmin swaggers up to Professor Na to collect his trophy. There was no doubt that this was corruption, the way that Na treated Yoongi and Sungmin was so horrendously different. It was obvious to most people, but you thought that he at least had the decency to judge fairly. Sure, whilst Yoongi and Sungmin were level on a technical level, Yoongi brought so much more passion to his pieces compared to the practiced nature of Sungmin’s.

In summary, this was just not right.

You hadn’t seen Yoongi since the news had been revealed, and to be honest, you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t imagine the mixture of anger, frustration and sadness that he was feeling. Ji Sungmin took a completely undeserved win, and it had obviously left Yoongi feeling insecure about his own talents.

So that’s why you had arrived at his apartment, after dealing with his voicemail too many times and unread texts, in order to help Yoongi feel better. Along with you, you had brought the essentials: your laptop and ice cream. What better things could you ask for?

You knocked on his door, waiting a couple of minutes before he answered. He was obviously surprised to see you, it was written on his face, but it wasn’t long before his surprise was placed with the familiar sadness. He looked tired, as though he wasn’t getting any sleep, despite the fact he never left his apartment, and you couldn’t help but worry for him more.

“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, “You haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I just need some time alone right now.” He answered, in an attempt to send you back home so he could wallow some more.

“Can I come in, please? I need to talk to you for a second. It’s important.” You half-pleaded.

He looked in your eyes, before sighing out a quiet “Fine.”

You both made your way to his sofa, sitting next to each other in silence, until you finally broke it.

“I know you’re upset about not winning Yoongi, anyone would be in your situation. I just… I’m worried about the way you’ve been dealing with it. Locking yourself in here isn’t going to heal those wounds.”

“What else can I do? I already talked to Professor Na and he reiterated that Sungmin had won. I can’t win, and I put all that effort in for nothing.” He sighed, melancholic.

“You didn’t do it for nothing. You gained so much from that experience, you gained so much more confidence when performing. Plus, you proved to everyone in that room that you are a good pianist and that you can do better than Sungmin. You don’t need a trophy when everyone knows, didn’t you see how shocked the crowd was with the decision?” You rambled in an effort to make him feel better.

“I just don’t see the reason to perform anymore.” He shrugged hopelessly to himself.

It was a losing battle that you were fighting, so you needed to bring out your secret weapon. You pulled out your phone, typing in Bunny Man and clicking on the first video. It had over a million views, you passed the phone to him.

“Y/N, I already know that they posted it online.”

“Just look at the comments, Yoongi.”

He scrolled down, you peaking over his shoulder. He read through all the top comments, each praising him for his performance. In the corner of your eye, you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All these people loved your music, Yoongi. The reason to perform is them, you bring joy into the world when you perform. You inspire other people.”

He turned to you, before wordlessly hugging you tightly. “Thank you, Y/N. So much. But I have no idea where to start now.”

And that was the second reason why you were here, for Chaeik. He had spotted the flyer in the music department, and passed it to you to persuade Yoongi to enter when you visited him.

“This could be a start.” You placed it into his hands.

“This is the Chopin competition. It’s so prestigious, I’d have no chance.”

“A lot of people think you can, and you shouldn’t doubt yourself anymore. I think you should do it, you have nothing to lose.”

He pondered for a while, before a burning resolve entered his eyes. He was going to prove Na and Sungmin wrong.

“Looks like I’m going on a trip to Switzerland.”

Unfortunately, you and Chaeik couldn’t go to Switzerland to watch Yoongi perform. But that didn’t stop you both from supporting him at home. So there you both were, sat with a bunch of popcorn, live-streaming the competition from your laptop.

So far it had just been a couple of performers, boring and monotonous, draining the colour out of music. The two of you busied yourselves by sharing various memes on your phones, giggling together until they finally announced his name and the room fell silent. Only the faint sound of Chaeik digging into his bowl of popcorn could be heard, you were both rapt with attention.

Yoongi finally appeared on screen, the two of you freaking out with squeals, quietening down when he appears on screen. You both quickly settled down, waiting for the first chord to sound from the grand piano.

When it did, you were barraged with a cluster of beautiful notes, hypnotising you with its beauty. Once again, Yoongi had worked his magic and out-played all the contestants so far. Once the performance ended, the two of you clapped and shrieked at the screen as though Yoongi could hear you.

The performance was followed by several others, most of which you ignored, once again messing around with Chaeik. Then, it was finally time. The charismatic host entered stage left, and it felt like Déjà vu, only this time you could hope for a better result. You waited for the words to leave his mouth, hoping for the best.

And you heard exactly what you wanted, “Min Yoongi!” being announced as the final winner of the competition and you couldn’t be prouder. It was just a shame you couldn’t be there to celebrate with him like you wanted to, why did you have to be a broke college student?

When Yoongi finally arrives back, he’s met with mountains of praise and affection. In fact, he was so swamped that you could barely spend time together. You hoped to have a proper conversation with him, rather than the rushed hello you’d given him at the airport, but instead, you were sat lazing about in your apartment. It was only then that you heard a soft knock on the door.

You almost flew towards it, being greeted by one of your most favourite people. Yoongi. And he was holding a bag of takeaway food.

“I got your favourite,” He says bashfully, “Can I come in?”

You immediately invite him in, the two of you unpacking and eating the food in a comfortable silence. It was only when you finished, when you started the eager conversation.

“Congratulations again,” You smiled at him.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You did it all by yourself.”

“No, I didn’t. This entire experience I’ve been supported by you, I wouldn’t have even entered the competition if it weren’t for you. You’ve always been there for me, and I want to be there for you in the same way.”

“You are Yoongi, I always feel comfortable and supported around you.”

“Sorry, I guess this is just my roundabout way of telling you that you mean a lot to me. In a more than platonic way, and I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Yoongi,” You giggled, “Why would it weird me out? I’ve literally kissed you. Of course I like you, you idiot.”

“Do you maybe want to go out sometime, then? You know, instead of eating takeaway on your living room floor?”

“That would be nice, Yoongi.”

And the two of you continue your comfortable conversation, a new chapter beginning as the old one ends.

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[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)

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AO3

Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children. 

“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion. 

“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation. 

“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence. 

---

Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around. 

“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares. 

“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns. 

“Um, yes?”

“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”

“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”

“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns. 

“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away. 

“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says. 

“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time. 

“I would like that.” 

---

The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. 

“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing. 

“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her. 

“I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t- 

“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook. 

“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy. 

“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with. 

“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-

“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon. 

“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now. 

“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?” 

“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”

“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”

“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.” 

“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position. 

“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot. 

“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring. 

“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing. 

“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-

“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.

Next

Tag List: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

[drwcn]

NEW!

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 11 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]

Lan Wangji knew his Uncle and the imperial court and the elders of the royal family were never going to be okay with him making Wei Wuxian one of his concubines. The servant status is one thing, but that's not the crux of the issue. The issue is that there's already a rumour circulating about how WWX is a wily fox whose sole purpose in life is to seduce and befuddle the prince. Xue Yang: quite a reputation you've cultivated for yourself. WWX: *kuzo's meme*.........ah yes, everything is all coming together now.

Lan Wangji is a smart boy though. He knows how to get what he wants. As Wei Ying inched towards full recovery from his whipping, the autumn hunt is upon them.

The autumn hunt in the royal hunts ground was a competition. Anyone invited could compete if they chose to, and of Lan Wangji's household, Jin Ziyan, Luo Qingyang and himself were in attendance. Mianmian, being his concubine and a woman, had two escorts/chaperones accompanying her for propriety, but flashed him dazzling smiles of gratitude upon her horse.

"I'm very grateful, dianxia, for your allowing this indulgence." "Of course," replied Lan Wangji from his saddle. "My Luo-furen should have what she wants." "Dianxia, ce-wangfu." Qin Su approached them and curtsied in proper form. "I wish you all best of luck in the hunt." Then to Mianmian, she said quietly, "Be careful, Qingyang." Jin Ziyan paid the two women no mind, but Lan Wangji saw the hand Qin Su had clandestinely wrapped around one of Mianmian's booted ankles. Oh...well, this is certainly a positive development.

The rest of the noble women not participating in the hunt rested in their tented pavilions, with Meng Yao as their hostess. They drank tea and ate sweets and enjoyed their free time to themselves. Meng Yao noted Wei Wuxian's absence from Jiang Yanli's side, as did several other noble women, but Jiang Yanli only smiled and said, "A-Xian has been living at my father's manor for several years and is an excellent marksman. Dianxia thought it a waste if he were kept from participating."

The truth of the matter is like this: when Wei Wuxian cheated and lied his way into Jiang-fu, he'd told Jiang Fengmian and his family that he'd lived most of his life by the charity of a hunter's family, and so had trained to hunt game in the wild. After the hunter's family died of some infectious illness that plagued the region, Wei Wuxian had supposed made his way into the city and found employment as a shop boy. He couldn't reveal that he'd been trained in martial arts, but there is no need to hide his skill as an archer. At first, it was so he could use archery as a common interest to get close to Jiang Fengmian's son Jiang Cheng, but Wei Wuxian soon realized that it could also be used as a way for Lan Wangji to cultivate further interest.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian stroked the snout of Lan Wangji's beloved ferghana horse and grinned. "You really want me to ride him?" "Mn." "You...won't be mad then, if I win?" Wei Wuxian's grin turned slightly wicked. "If I beat you?" Lan Wangji's brow twitched with interest, "Not at all. That's rather what I'm counting on." "Yeah? And why is that?" "Because while I can claim victory with the sword -" "- Very modest, you." Wei Wuxian teased, grinning, which earned him a subtle little glare. "- amongst my cousins, my marksmanship is not unrivalled. You may have a greater chance of winning with him. Huangxiong promised that whoever wins today's hunt will be granted one wish." A wish? Wei Wuxian mulled over this information. His own mission turned and circled in his mind. If I could but gain access to... ... Of course, Wei Wuxian glanced at the prince and the saw the light in his eyes. Lan Wangji is probably thinking of something entirely different.

And so it was inevitable that went the count of the hunt came in, Wei Wuxian's name was at the top. Lan Qiren's little mustache just about flew off his face the way he scrunched it up in displeasure.

Gentries, nobles, dukes and princes watched with envy and shock as a servant came forth to accept the Emperor's reward.

"Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang leaned close to Jiang Cheng while they watched from the sidelines as Wei Wuxian bowed before the Emperor. "Why do you look so smug?" Jiang Cheng played with the end of an arrow with an air of mock innocence, "I don't know what you're talking about?" Nie Huaisang pulled at the leather of his riding attire in discomfort - this was so not his style - and tsked, "I know you, Jiang-xiong, you're not subtle. What did you do?" "I was the one who told Lan Wangi that Wei Wuxian is an excellent archer when I went to visit Hanguang-fu." Nie Huaisang understood instantly, "Oh....oh I see..." "What? Don't judge me! You know what they did to him. String up like some unruly animal and whipped. I never agreed with my mother's plan to send him along with my sister anyway. Wei Wuxian may be lowborn but..." Jiang Cheng scowled. "He's too good for them. For Lan Wangji. He's clearly not going to do right by Wei Wuxian. I won't stand to see a perfectly good man wasted as some prissy prince's concubine instead of being where he could put his real skills to use." "Shhhhh, ancestors, Jiang-xiong, keep your voice down! Words like that are a great dishonor against bixia, you'll lose your head!" Jiang Cheng shrugged.

Xue Yang *at a later times*: so lemme get this straight, you won the Hunt, and then Lan Xichen asked you what you want as reward - WWX - as a good little servant I said "I want for nothing that wangye and Jiang-zhuzi hasn't already provided me" - XY *rolls his eyes* Right. And then Jiang Wanyin came out of nowhere and said - "陛下，魏婴乃微臣之家生子，是前管家魏长泽 的独子， 因幼年时父母过世一直遗留市井。上天庇佑，几年前父亲将他巡回。魏婴为人端正淳厚，虽未上过学堂，但头脑机智。陛下也看到了，他弓发出众， 是。。。如能加强训练，以后必会为我姑苏所用 - " Bixia, Wei Ying is this subject's home-born servant, the only son of our previous head of staff Wei Changze. Due to the unfortunate passing of his parents in his youth, he has been getting by doing odd jobs in the capital. Heavens be willing, Father was able to find him after these many years and brought him home. Wei Ying is kind and righteous; though never have been taught by scholars, he is sharp of mind. As bixia has seen, he is a great marksmanship, is ... If he could be granted proper training, he would be a great asset for Gusu in the future. - And what a waste it would be if you were left to twindle away within the confines of a harem. I bet Lan Wangji just loved that. The balls on Jiang Wangyin - I do love his style. WWX You're the only one. Jiang-shushu just about had a heart attack when Jiang Cheng dissed Lan Wangji in public. Madam Yu nearly popped a vein too. XY: Yeah well, he's got a point. You may be Jiang Yanli's companion, but you're not Lan Wangji's concubine, you're just a servant with a skill. Honestly why shouldn't they put you to better use than waiting to maybe spread your legs for a prince who might just as easily toss you aside after the newness fades. WWX *slaps him up the head* Rascal! I'm your shixiong. Don't be so rude. Anyways, Lan Zhan, he - he was willing to let me go. I think he loves me you know - XY: He what now - WWX: He said - Lan Wangji came to kneel beside Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin and bowed to his royal brother, "Huangxiong, Wei Ying is the peijia of my Jiang-furen, a servant of my manor. I... I long knew he is an excellent marksman and should have submitted his candidacy for the ranks but -" Lan Wangji looked at him then, eyes huge with something unreadable. "Jiang-xiao-jiangjun is right. Wei Ying is good, his mind is bright. He would be more suited to militia than...than within the walls of the inner court." "Wangye, have you....have you grown tired of Wei Ying -" "Wei Ying, no -" XY: Oh barf. So please tell me you chose to go to bingbu (ministry of war). WWX: Going to bingbu was never the assignment. If yifu wanted me in the ministry of war, I would've infiltrated them from the start. I refused. And it had the intended effect. "No?" Lan Xichen leaned forward curiously. "Joining the ranks will elevate your rank to that of a subject of the imperial government, and if you are truly as skilled and talented as my brother and Jiang-xiao-jiangjun say, you may rise yet to stand in my court as an officer of the imperial military. You will have your own commission, your own manor, marry, have children - all things which will be forbidden to you if you remain as you are now. As you are male, you cannot provide for Hanguang-fu any offspring, and your low-born status has precluded you from the position of consort or even vice-consort. Have you considered your options carefully? " "I understand bixia, and my decision is made. Nothing would please me more than to stay by wangye's side. I regret nothing." XY: >_> And A this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you're increasingly horny for Lan Wangji? WWX: Of course not. Because of Lan Qiren, I couldn't advance in Hanguang-fu. But now that Lan Xichen had given me his royal decree, I am Lan Wangji's sanctioned mianshou. XY: *insert eye emoji* So...y'all fucked? WWX *wistful, thinking about the night he spent at the autumn palace after the hunt* : We did, you pervert. Ya happy now? *WWX sighed* But I know who we are and what I must do. Yifu needs me by Lan Wangji's side, for what reasons I do not yet know. No matter how he and I are now... one day it will

all end. XY: *stares into the camera like he's on the office*

Note: yifu = Wen Ruohan, WWX's adoptive father.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough. 

[tenthgrove]

Hello, I just saw that you opened your request. I'm the one who ended up writing a whole prompt! Imagine this for each member from La Squadra: they had an one-night stand with a random woman, she accidentally got pregnant and decided to have the baby without telling them. After a while, the woman got ill and passed away, but not without before sending her child with their father (let's imagine she has the direction of their hideout even if it's ooc, or she knew where they hang out). So, one day someone knocks the door and introduces themselves as the kid of one of the members/if it's too young, someone left them on the door with a explainatory note... How do you think each member would react by discovering that they have a child and they're supposed to take care of them from now? You can make each kid with different ages if you want, it would be funny to see Prosciutto or Ghiaccio dealing with a rebellious teenage son or Risotto trying to take care of a toddler, but I guess not all of them would want to keep their children. Sorry if it's a lot, haha.

La Squadra did a Diavolo

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Familial, SFW

A/N: your idea about mixing up the ages got me thinking, and I ended up using randomisers for the children’s ages (though I did consciously change some of them) and genders. It added a fun bit of chance to this prompt.

Formaggio, with an 8 year old daughter

The whole thing feels surreal to him. There's a little girl on his doorstep calling herself his daughter and by all evidence, it's true. He doesn't really know how to feel about it at first. On one hand it's kind of cool he had a kid all this time and you're clearly a lovely girl, but on the other hand, what the fuck? Still, not being the practical sort, his sense of sentiment far outweighs any question of how he's actually going to look after a child, so without much deliberation, Formaggio agrees to let you stay.

Formaggio isn't too experienced with kids but he doesn't exactly dislike them either, so he figures he knows what to do. At your age you can at least do the basics of looking after yourself, so he isn't too worried. The only problem is that if you ask him to cook for you or help clean your room, his eyes go very wide. He never quite picked up those skills himself, he's afraid, so you're going to have to ask someone else for that one.

The good news is that Formaggio is a very easy-going, fun sort of dad, who is a natural at playing with you and lets you do what you want when he can't be around. He quickly gets used to showing affection to you, letting you cuddle up to him on the sofa in front of the squad and even carrying you around once in a while. He gives amazing piggy back rides.

The bad news (or more good news, depending on how you are) is that you have to leave school. Risotto says that at your age you can't be trusted not to tell anyone your new family is a bunch of assassins, and taking you to and from school each day would be too much of a hassle. Nonetheless, you're welcome to continue your education from home, though Formaggio will hardly push you if you don't keep up with it. Melone is much better on that front.

Despite the risk, Formaggio can't bring himself to force you to lose all your friends, so he lets you keep meeting with them. Furthermore, he knows a few guys in other squads who have kids about your age, so he's happy to introduce you to them if you want a friend you can be more honest about your home life with. Formaggio might not have a clue what he's doing, but he's doing pretty good.

Illuso, with a 3 year old daughter

He's been fearing this day would come for years. A small child knocking on the door of the hideout, holding a note in hand addressed to him, just as a shady looking car drives away. Yeah, Illuso remembers your mother pretty well and he remembers the distinct lack of precautions they took during their encounter. Now, the consequences of his actions are here at his house, and Risotto is currently standing in the doorway of the office looking ready to give him the biggest dressing-down of his life.

After his tongue-lashing, Illuso frantically agrees to take responsibility for what he's done and see to it that you're well cared for, and begins the task of looking for relatives who might take you. Unfortunately, none of your mother's family can be traced, and Illuso can't exactly call up his own right now. Leaving you on the door of an orphanage isn't an option because you're old enough to say where you've come from, so it looks like for the time being, Illuso is stuck with you.

Initially, Illuso is not thrilled. He pawns you off on Melone, Sorbet and Gelato whenever possible and tries to live his life as before. But increasingly, he can't help finding himself visiting your room whenever he's stressed or has had a bad mission. There's something so pure about gently stroking your hair as you sleep. He can't help but feel... attachment, as he rubs his thumb against your tiny palm.

From then on, Illuso starts to make a point of spending more time with you. You're at the age where you just want to touch and explore everything you're given, so letting you make a mess with his makeup and beauty creams is an easy way for him to observe and learn about you. He even starts doing the more practical things like washing and feeding you every so often.

Eventually, Illuso becomes an actual father to you. He loves you as a father should and puts his time into making you happy. Illuso is glad he didn't give you away, as you've opened his eyes to so many things. For the first time in many years, he feels human. He feels redeemable.

Prosciutto, with a 13 year old son

As you tell him your story Prosciutto racks his brains. He didn't have many one-night-stands in his youth but the ones he did have were so far back he barely remembers them, so your mother's name doesn't immediately ring any bells. If it weren't for the striking resemblance between you, Prosciutto probably would have thrown you out for a liar there and then. But as you are, it's clear you're being honest. He lets you in.

After a short interrogation by Risotto to make certain you aren't acting on behalf of some third party looking to infiltrate the squad, it's agreed you can stay, so long as you keep quiet about it to your friends. At your age you can largely look after yourself and all you really needed was a roof over your head, so there's no problem with you moving into the spare room as long as you stay out of the others' way.

Education isn't much of an issue either, since you're likely well settled in your current school and can get yourself there and back. Just whatever you do, don't go telling anyone you live with a bunch of gangsters now. Prosciutto means it, you could seriously put yourself in danger if you do that.

Much to your father's ire, you end up befriending several members of the squad, especially the younger ones like Melone, Ghiaccio and Pesci who have some generational overlap with how you were raised. Prosciutto would rather you didn't do this but at the end of the day, he can't really stop you. God forbid you call him an old boomer again.

Your relationship is overall positive- Prosciutto makes a point of taking you on outings when he has the time, and giving you parental advice when you need it. However that doesn't stop you from making fun of his stuffy, old habits, and playing the moral high ground in regards to his work.

On that note, the problem comes when you develop an interest in the squad's work. It's only inevitable, given how pervasive the topic is in conversations around the house, and the fact you're more than old enough to know what a gang is, but the day you first ask him about it is no less welcome. What's scary is that you're about the same age as Passione's youngest recruits and, well, if you ended up joining them because of him, Prosciutto might never forgive himself.

Pesci, with a 6 month old son

He knew it had been a mistake. Not long after his 18th birthday he'd given in to the squad's pestering about his virginity and finally gotten rid of it just to shut them up. Now he's ridden with guilt. Not only did the poor woman get pregnant because of him but now she's died. He can't help but wonder, the letter attached to the basket you came in was very vague after all, was your mother's death at all related to your birth? If so, Pesci doesn't know how he'll forgive himself.

Pesci immediately panics and stumbles into his Fra's bedroom crying louder than you are. Prosciutto remains calm, advising him to first make sure this actually is his baby through Melone, in case this is somebody trying to trick him, and to then think through his options rationally. As far as Prosciutto sees it, he has two. He can either see to it that you're taken in by a caring, reliable individual, or he can keep you for himself. Surprisingly, Prosciutto's actually okay with the second one, since in his eyes duty to one's family is absolute.

Pesci stammers a bit and asks if he can wait a few days to make his mind up, which Prosciutto permits. But it isn't long at all until Pesci is far too attached to you to ever let you go, and it becomes clear you'll be staying for the long-run. Risotto is hardly happy about this but agrees with Prosciutto's sentiment of family, so he doesn't try to insist you be sent away.

Pesci is an incredibly loving father. He'll dash from the other side of the house at a moment's notice if he hears you crying. That said, being so young himself it's inevitable he requires some help with raising you. Sorbet and Gelato chip in quite regularly, as does Melone when Pesci is desperate enough to fall on using him. Prosciutto helps out too, being your uncle, and occasionally you've even had Risotto answer your cries.

La Squadra can only hope their situation improves somehow in the coming years, since Pesci has no idea how he's going to deal with an older child in a house full of assassins. At very least, being so young it's a long time before he has to worry about things like school. For now, what's important is that you are loved very dearly. Pesci has discovered a new protective streak in himself, something he discovers every time he looks in your eyes.

Melone, with a 4 year old son

When you arrived you were frightened and confused. You struggled to babble out the story you were told to tell as the strange men crowded around you in the front room of the house. Then, a bizarre looking man with purple hair pushed to the front of the crowd, insisting he knew what to do in a situation like this. He carried you somewhere quiet, and gently asked you to repeat your story again. You told him you were looking for your father, Melone.

Melone is elated. He's always wanted a child, but getting into a relationship stable enough to produce one has never been an option with the life he lives. Now the happy accident he never new he had has come home to him! Carrying you back to the living room, Melone introduces you as his son and announces to the team that he will be keeping you.

This is met with some protest. Not only are you of the age where you'll need constant supervision, but quite frankly, nobody trusts Melone to take care of a kid. Melone refutes their accusations harshly, making it absolutely clear he will not be giving you up without a fight. Finally, Risotto surrenders, on the terms that if he catches any signs of abuse or neglect, he will see to it personally that you are re-homed elsewhere.

Melone's parenting style is relatively laid-back. He believes parents should be a 'safe base' from which children should explore the world, coming back when they need advice but ultimately following their own whims within reason. He encourages you to play as you wish and does not stop you from bonding with the rest of the squad. Finding supervision for you while he's on missions proves to be a non-issue, since his stand's massive range means he can often do most of a mission's work at home.

When the time comes to educate you, Melone decides against the risks of enrolling you in school. He is an amazing teacher and can teach you everything you'd need in half the hours of a typical curriculum. Beyond the essentials of literacy and simple maths, Melone largely encourages you to follow you own interests rather than stick to some boring, arbitrary list of useless things a normal curriculum for some reason expects you to learn.

That said, he knows the importance of making friends, so he frequently takes you out to meet with neighbourhood children. All-in-all, the squad is surprised at his sensible parenting choices, and the happy child you are turning out to be.

Ghiaccio, with a 2 year old son

It's almost comedic the lengths Ghiaccio goes to to avoid the problem. As the others crowd around you in Melone's lap, Ghiaccio cowers in the corner insisting that you absolutely cannot be his. It's very obvious you are, of course. You look almost exactly like him, and have a cry to match. You've even inherited the same, mild visual impairments that earned him his glasses. There's no getting away from the truth.

After accepting the truth, Ghiaccio takes you away to his room to 'clear his head' before deciding where to send you in the morning, but when morning comes, that deliberation time quickly turns into a few more days, then a month, then never. It's clear Ghiaccio's become attached to you, and he cannot bring himself to give you away.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the foggiest clue in hell how to look after a toddler. He has a hard enough time understanding what it is adults want from him, let alone small children. There are times he even considers giving you away again, but they never last long enough for him to go through with it. Bit by bit, he slowly learns how to be a father.

Melone is his primary co-parent. As cautious as Ghiaccio is about letting him around his baby, it soon becomes clear Melone can understand your needs far better than he can. The pair have many sessions together teaching Ghiaccio how to do things like wash you or cook your food. It's honestly a massive help, and probably the main reason Ghiaccio doesn't completely melt down within a month of having you.

These issues aside, Ghiaccio is a person who is very genuine in his affections. He would break the shins of anyone who even looked at you threateningly, and every fibre of his being wants you to be happy. He even learns to control his temper, as he knows from experience just how damaging an angry parent can be for a child. He's going to give you a better childhood than what his parents gave him, and that's a promise.

Risotto, with a 6 year old daughter

Well, perhaps this ought to have been expected. In his early 20s Risotto was really far less careful than he ought to be in regards to his encounters, so he probably had this coming. You are at a difficult age, old enough to understand your father is a criminal but young enough to still need his care. If he takes you in, there will be many challenges. And yet he cannot bring himself to turn you away. Looking at you he feels... obligation.

In the early days he tries his best to shelter you. He keeps you in his room and tells the others not to talk to you. But that's no way for you to live, and he knows it. Eventually, he swallows his fears and lets you explore your new home, even taking you out to the park a few minutes each day so you can run around. He talks to Melone about continuing your education, and asks Sorbet and Gelato if they'd let the spare room next to them be turned into a bedroom for you. He's going to make sure he raises you right.

Risotto may be quiet and introverted, but do not mistake that for emotionally distant. He does not underestimate his vital role in your emotional well-being, and is quick to pick up on when you are feeling sad or lonely. He makes sure to pick you up in his arms and ask what's wrong when that happens.

Though he didn't know her well, he mourns your mother with you, and is very watchful for the signs of attachment issues that may result from losing a parent at such a tender age. Being all you have left, Risotto gains a new instinct of self-preservation. For the first time in years, his life has meaning.

In terms of bonding, he prefers calm activities that allow him to passively observe your interests, such as watching movies or reading you books. When he's working in his office and doesn't need his camera on, he's happy for you to sit in his lap as long as you're quiet. He would ask if you don't read what's on his screen, though, at least not while you're so young. He'll give you a better explanation of what he's doing some day, but not just yet.

Sorbet and Gelato, with a 12 year old daughter

First of all, let's make clear that regardless of which one is biologically your father, they both feel equal responsibility for you. No doubt they were both present for your conception anyway, so as far as they're concerned, if one of them has a secret kid from a hookup, they both have a secret kid from a hookup.

Having always wanted children, they are happy when you appear on the doorstep and introduce yourself as their daughter. Though they don't say it out loud to avoid upsetting you, they kind of wish your mum had kicked it sooner so they could have raised you from a younger age, but they're more than happy to make do with what they've got. There's no hesitation in welcoming you to live with them permanently, and anyone who has a problem with this isn't brave enough to say it.

Right from the get-go they are very permitting parents, awarding you a generous helping of their cash each week and having a rule list that pretty much starts and ends with "don't talk to the police." Despite your age they don't expect you to be independent, and are happy to cook for you and help you out with other things when you ask. It seems parenthood was made for them.

Despite all this, there is one problem in your relationship that is making things difficult. That of your fathers' work. You're 12 years old and you aren't stupid. You know they kill for a living and you know they enjoy it. When you stumble into the bathroom at 1am to find them covered in blood and laughing together, there's no making excuses. No matter how good they are with you, this is going to make you afraid of them.

Sorbet and Gelato are incredibly stringent in solving these early issues. After all these years they've finally got the family they wanted, and they aren't going to let it slip away from their own cruelty. They are honest with you about their occupation, since they want you to know you can trust them, and make absolutely clear it won't affect their care for you. You are welcome to ask questions and receive honest answers, but other than that Sorbet and Gelato will make a point of not accidentally causing you to witness something you shouldn't.

With them, you are welcome to continue your old life in terms of school and friends. They want to spend time with you, but they don't want to overtake your existence completely. When you are up for it, they are keen to take you on outings that interest you so you can spend time together as a family. They hope you know how happy you make them.

[professorspork]

superhell fic prompt: JAUNE RUNS INTO PYRRHA

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

It doesn’t occur to that she’s allowed to talk to them until Torchwick reveals himself to Neo. And even then, well-- Roman Torchwick isn’t exactly a shining paragon when it comes to setting a good example of what’s allowed.

But the idea refuses to stop hounding her footsteps, once it’s come. Once she’s seen it’s possible, without consequences. Still, she waits, and keeps her distance. There’s no sunset, here on the island, no night, but there are shady places beneath the towering roots of the Tree; eventually, they all bed down, and Jaune-- as she’d known he would-- volunteers to take first watch. It’s a heartening display: Yang and Blake twined together like ivy on a wrought iron gate, but each clinging to the hands of their teammates, chained together by grasping fingers. Otters in a stream, unwilling to be separated.

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised to hear her own voice when she approaches.

...I know this can be frustrating, and it can feel like so much effort to progress such a small amount, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I've never met someone so determined to better themselves...

“You’ll drain your battery,” she cautions, reaching out with her mind to press the off button on his scroll. His head whips up, expression aghast, and she smiles at him softly. “I’d have thought you’d have it memorized by now anyhow; you haven’t seemed to need it in some time.”

She expects disbelief, perhaps, or shock. Joy would have been nice, but she’d have understood anger. So she’s surprised and---bizarrely proud, actually-- when instead his eyes narrow in suspicion and the first thing he says is, “Your Semblance works.”

“Well, yes.”

“Why does your Semblance work?”

“Because I’m where I’m supposed to be. A soul knows when it’s in the right place. Or the wrong one, as the case may be.”

“Or I’m dreaming.”

“Or you’re dreaming,” she agrees, keeping her voice mild, but feeling it like a punch to the stomach when his shoulders relax at the idea. Does he... not want her here? Goodness, but she’s out of practice. She’d forgotten it was like this; how talking to him had been both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world. “Would you-- prefer that? If I weren’t really here?”

“The real Pyrrha would know better than to ask me that.”

Despite herself, she laughs. “Oh, I wish that were true. I asked myself that every day. Every class, every glance, every study session on the roof. I’m afraid I was never as confident as I should have been.” It’s an embarrassing admission, but an effective one; the walled-up caution behind his eyes dissipates... only for tears to well up in its stead.

“Are you-- can I touch you?”

“I hope so.” (She’d left Torchwick and Neo behind before they’d gotten that far, for obvious reasons.)

“I--” He scrambles to his feet and crosses the distance between them, enveloping her in a crushing hug. It doesn’t feel like she remembers, but then, that’s no surprise-- he’s taller than he used to be, and her body isn’t exactly a body, per se. She’s grateful, even so. Happy just to have the chance to hold him up. She keeps quiet at first, letting him get it all out as he sobs incoherent apologies into her shoulder--

(IloveyouImissyouIloveyouImissyouI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry)

--and contents herself with playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. Eventually, he calms.

“I like the haircut,” she says, when he pulls away. “It’s handsome. You look so grown up.”

“You look so young,” he croaks in response, and-- she supposes she must, to his eyes. It’s strange to think that she’s the same age as Ruby now; that they’ve kept going on without her, and they’ll continue to do so, once she’s led them out. “Are you--? Have you--?” He wipes at his eyes, laughing at himself a little. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to start. I just-- I can't believe you're here with me.”

“I'm always with you,” she assures him, unable to suppress the urge to thumb away a tear he’s missed. She keeps her hand there, at his cheek, as she she speaks: “Even when you can’t sense me, I... oh, Jaune. I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

He sighs and steps out of the circle of her arms, hanging his head to stare at Crocea Mors where it rests in its sheath. You’d never know it to be broken, just by looking. The scabbard hides the damage-- giving him the appearance of being armed and ready though all he carries is a shattered hilt. “Yeah, maybe. I-- I thought I had, but...” He swallows, face filled with shame.

She starts to reach for him again, unwilling to waste even a moment of their time not touching him, but forces herself to relax and drop her hands to her sides. It has to be his choice, doesn’t it? “Tell me. You can tell me anything; you know that.”

His voice falters terribly when he finally speaks: 

“I mean, I feel like you already know. For the longest time, I wanted to be this... I dunno. This warrior, or whatever. And it never fit, no matter what I did, or how hard I worked, and I just-- I resented it so much. Being...” He shakes his head. “I just felt useless. But when I unlocked my Semblance, I had to let that go. And it was hard at first, it took time, but for a second there it finally started to feel like... like I knew my place. Where I belonged; what everyone needed from me. I was good at it. But then Penny needed--” He chokes on a sob, and has to stop and take several deep breaths before he can continue. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still useless. The idiot stuck on the wrong side of the glass, out of his league and forced to watch because someone else has to be the Maiden now and there’s nothing he can do about it. Only this time it’s worse, because this time I actually-- I--”

Unable to hold herself back anymore, she reaches for his hands; he squeezes her fingers tight, like a lifeline. “I understand,” she soothes, voice heavy like a vow. “Did you think I wouldn’t? I don’t think I have to remind you that I’m the only other person who knows what that feels like. To have been the one who killed her.”

He lets out an awful, cynical noise; a parody of a laugh. “Depends on who you ask,” he says in explanation, looking askance towards Ruby. Pyrrha sadly follows his gaze. Ruby’s shifted in her sleep, curled under her cape to be as small as possible with her head nestled in the crooks of Yang’s bent knees. Her arms are wrapped around Yang’s shins in a death grip, as though she fears her sister might fly away at any moment. Pyrrha’s heart aches for her; for the responsibility she carries. Weight Pyrrha could have helped shoulder... if only she’d been a little faster, a little more clever.

She shakes off the feeling; now’s not the time for regret. “But things have changed,” she says, bringing Jaune’s hands up to her mouth and kissing the knuckles. It will be a long time, she knows, before he believes there isn’t blood on them; maybe this small act can help. And if it doesn’t... she has other options. Maybe even a little levity, for once. “You’re not useless. You’re amazing. You’re a licensed Huntsman now; you’re accomplishing things you’d only dreamed of. All the mothers of Mantle adore you. You even got to go on a date with Weiss!”

He boggles at her, wrenching his hands away. “What?! That wasn’t a date, we were just hanging out with Oscar, we--” His jaw falls open, suddenly, and his eyes narrow once more. “Wait a minute. Are you teasing me?”

She grins, sheepish and caught. “I figured it was now or never to give it a go; I didn’t want to waste my last chance to try it. Nora always said it would be good for me.”

“To make fun of me?” he squawks, indignant.

She laughs. “To remind myself it’s okay to be a novice sometimes; that there are things I won’t instantly be good at.” She bites her lip, unable to stop her grin. “...And also to make fun of you, yes.”

He surges forward, then-- wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her closer, pressing a fierce, grateful kiss to her forehead. Then he does it again; then once more, at the bridge of her nose. And then a final time, against her lips. Quick; intense. Filled with meaning.

She’s got not breath in her, and still she’s breathless.

“I miss you so much,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against hers. His fingers thread themselves into the hair at the back of her skull, tangled into the base of her ponytail. “So much. I think about you all the time. Every day. Wondering how different things would be, if only...”

“I know,” she says, because she does. There’s more that she should say, probably-- that it’s good that he’s started to move on; that none of them can hold onto her forever. But she can’t quite bring herself to voice the words.

“It’s not fair,” he mutters, then sighs at the sound of it. “I mean, none of it is fair, but-- I feel like a jerk, I guess. That I’m the one who gets to see you, of all of us.”

“You’ll tell them I love them, won’t you? Ren and Nora. They...” They’re doing things she never did, is the thing. Maturing in ways she’ll never have the chance to. Learning that responsibility doesn’t mean putting it all on your own shoulders; that love doesn’t mean giving all of yourself away. It’s overwhelming, how proud she is of them for that. “They were on the right path, in Atlas. Don’t let them convince themselves otherwise.”

He nods, the movement of it levering her own head in shared agreement. “Anything else? Anyone else you’d like me to...?”

So many; too many. But one rises above the rest. “Tell my mother to stop leaving flowers,” she murmurs, wishing she had more to offer than that. “Tell her they belong in the garden; that I like to watch them grow. That’s-- the way it should be.”

“Okay,” he says, and relief rushes through her. “Okay. I will.”

Slowly, they both become aware once more of the gaggle of Huntresses sleeping just a few yards off. Pyrrha could leave dozens of messages with Jaune, if she wanted, but the people she most needs to speak to are right here, within arm’s reach. They need her guidance; it’s selfish not to provide it. She’s taken so long already. And yet...

Jaune beats her to voicing the thought: “I know we should probably wake them, but-- can it be just the two of us, for just a little longer? Please?”

She smiles, and brings a hand up to caress his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”