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#also Thomas is ace because I say so and I know him personally !!!!! Oh my other Thomas route's mind is going feral rn
mazojo · 3 months
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girl me too what
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primofate · 2 years
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Can I get more volleyball au? Anything goes.
I have neglected the Volleyball AU for a while hahahaha!!! I can tell cause so many of you are asking for a Volleyball AU update oh gosh XD
This is a response to the 3-4 anons who requested a Volleyball AU update. One of you said something about the Olympics but I wasn’t quite sure if I read your ask correctly but anyway, here it is.
Scenarios: Olympic Genshin Volleyball team getting asked interview questions about you, their S/O, after winning a game + chaotic commentary of the teammates
Warning: some of the questions might be a little personal but journalists always try to get a good story anyway, so, it’s still in the realm of possibility. Not proofread. Please tell me if there are any pronoun slips.
Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Thoma, Ayato and gn!reader
#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)
Tries to keep his relationship with you private. He knows the media is super daunting at times. 
Interviewer: “Did your S/O fly in to support you today?”
Zhongli: “No, they’re at home. Though, I’m sure Y/N’s supporting me, even from home,”
Interviewer: “There’s talks on the forum that your performance is better when your S/O is watching on the stands, and that your spikes are stellar.”
*Tartaglia and Kaeya starts cackling. Thoma laughs behind his hand. Ayato is grinning ear to ear. They’re aware of that rumor.*
Zhongli: *clears his throat* “Well... I... suppose it gives a little energy boost, seeing my significant other attend...”
Kaeya: *leans in forward to his mic and butts in* “Our strict captain just likes to show off in front of Y/N,”
Tartaglia: *also butts in* “Our coach and managers have joked that we should have a cardboard cutout of Y/N and just get it up there on the stands for every game,”
Ayato: “Our captain might seem serious on court but he’s the type to have a picture of his S/O as his phone screen. Isn’t that right, captain?” Passes the question along to Zhongli again
Zhongli: *incredibly embarrassed and has covered his loopy, embarrassed smile with his hand. Plotting the demise of Ayato, Kaeya and Tartaglia. Reporters are having a field day that his teammates are ratting him out* “...Let’s move on to the next question please,”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Zhongli: *hesitates, but thinks that you might watch this so answers* “I’ll be home soon. Take care of yourself for me while I’m away,” *gives a small smile and a wave*
#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)
Does not like personal questions. But will still answer them just so he doesn’t come off as too rude. 
He doesn’t want his team’s reputation to be tarnished because of him.
Gives straightforward answers. Doesn’t give any chance for reporters to brew up a rumor or gossip that would hurt his relationship with you.
Interviewer: “How are you and your S/O doing?”
Diluc: “Good, nothing to complain about. Everything’s perfectly great with Y/N,”
Interviewer: “I heard that your S/O has been supporting your volleyball career ever since high school. That’s a long time!”
Diluc: *smiles the slightest bit* “It is, isn’t it? It wasn’t an easy road...and I owe a lot to Y/N for staying through all of it,”
Interviewer: “What do you miss most about your S/O when you two are apart?”
Diluc: *thinks that it’s too personal of a question and isn’t related to volleyball at all, so he answers awkwardly* “Err... Well... Everything, really,”
Kaeya: “So, funny thing,” *all the cameras turn to him and Diluc kind of heaves a sigh of relief but he does that too early* “I share a room with my brother while we’re out here and he does these nightly calls with Y/N,”
Diluc: “Kaeya--”
Kaeya: “I can list aaaaallllll the things he misses about 'em cause he says it every damn night. I miss your smi--”
Diluc: *completely talks over Kaeya* “NEXT QUESTION!”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Diluc: *sort of bashful, small smile* “Thanks for everything.” *and just to spite Kaeya and make light of the situation earlier* “I’ll make sure Kaeya’s asleep before I call you tonight,”
#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)
Thriving during an interview.
Probably all the interviewer’s favourite cause he doesn’t have much of a filter yet manages to be charming all the same. 
Will show you off but not too much, just enough so that it isn’t too tacky.
Interviewer: “In the last interview you shared an interesting tidbit about your love life. You shared the story of how you met your S/O.”
Kaeya: “Oh you wanna hear that story again? Good story right? It was in high school! I was practicing my serves and accidentally hit the back of Y/N’s head. I walked ‘em to the clinic like the gentleman I was and it started from there,”
Interviewer: “So would you say that you made the first move?”
Kaeya: “No, Y/N was head over heels for me the moment I offered to walk them to the clinic! Totally their idea to get together,” *laughs* “I kid, I’ll admit I was the one smitten from the get go,” 
Interviewer: “Does having Y/N’s support change anything?”
Kaeya: *totally joking but not joking* “It does! I don’t say it often or too much cause I’m usually confident in myself but there’s always going to be a time where you don’t feel good enough, and it’s great to have someone there to say and shout *tries to imitate your voice* “Kaeya you’re the best!!!””
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Kaeya: “Miss you snowflake! Keep cheering for me there, I promise my heart can hear you!” *winks*
#4 Albedo (Setter)
The quiet, thinks for too long type
Kind of blunt
Does not mind any question, he’s mostly just thinking too much about his answer and wants to give an accurate one.
Interviewer: “Did your S/O fly in to support you today?”
Albedo: “No, but they’ll fly in for the last game...We’ll spend a few days looking around here then fly back together...Thankfully the schedule allows for that,”
Interviewer: “What places do you plan to visit?”
Albedo: “...It wouldn’t be too smart of me to reveal that. If I tell you, then everyone will know where we’re going...”
Interviewer: “We heard that your jersey number has a significant meaning. Can you talk about that a little?”
Albedo: “...Oh, yes...back when we were in high school...#4 was Y/N’s class number. That’s all there is to it really...”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Albedo: “...Thanks for believing in me and for pushing me to try volleyball. I still think everything I have right now is because of you,”
#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)
Thriving number 2
Loves interviews, so the interviewers love him too.
Tends to go off track and talks too much.
Interviewer: “Last time you went off on a tangent talking about your S/O’s cooking,”
Tartaglia: “Yeah! I can’t help it. Your food here is really great guys, but it’s just nothing compared to home food, you know? It’s been nearly a month of not having a home-cooked meal. You gotta understand!”
Interviewer: “If you could, would you fly home right now just to have some of your S/O’s food?”
Tartaglia: “Hell yeah! That’s not even a question! Course I would. Then I can get some much needed hugs and kisses too,”
Kaeya and Ayato at the same time:
Ayato: “Little too much information there,” 
Kaeya “TMI, TMI,”
Tartaglia: “Jealousssss?”
Interviewer: “If you could fly back now, but you could only get ONE thing from your S/O, would it be a home-cooked meal or a hug?”
Tartaglia: “Oh man, why d’you have to do this?” *seriously thinks about it* “Oh gosh, I’ll definitely go for a hug though. Hugs are more important than food,”
Kaeya: “On which planet?”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Tartaglia: “Hey you! Can’t wait to be back home! Need my hugs ASAP!”
#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)
Polite, quiet but will decline to answer if it goes over his personal threshold.
Still very polite though
Interviewer: “So you and S/O were childhood friends?”
Kazuha: “We were indeed.” *laughs at the memories* “I’ve known Y/N for a long time. Our parents were acquainted with each other,”
Interviewer: “What made you guys cross over to a relationship, after being friends for so long?”
Kazuha: “Mm, that’s a good question...I find that I don’t quite know the answer myself, sometimes. But ultimately it’s because I’d rather not see Y/N with someone else. I suppose that’s how I knew my feelings was past friendship,”
Interviewer: “Did S/O play a significant part in your volleyball career?”
Kazuha: “Absolutely. Training takes up a lot of time. I’m lucky that Y/N understands that, and I’m slightly apologetic because of that too.”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Kazuha: “Thank you for being my pillar. I really am fortunate that it’s you by my side,”
#7 Xiao (Libero)
Tries really hard to answer but is the type to stutter over his words out of nervousness. Probably just not used to the media yet. 
The type to practice interview questions with Tartaglia and Kaeya (the two are really just giving him a hard time, but Xiao thinks that’s great practice)
Interviewer: “Your S/O posted on their social media today about supporting you and it was a photo of you during your high school libero days! *shows the picture*”
*Everyone in the team shares a smile knowing that Xiao will be flustered*
Xiao: “O-Oh, uh... Hm, that’s a really old picture... What were they thinking posting that...? I-I mean! Y/N...has always been supportive!”
Interviewer: “High school was a really long time ago, any secret to keeping the romance alive?”
Xiao: *thinks why in the hell are these kinds of questions asked in press conferences about volleyball????*
Xiao: “Just...be yourself. I guess. Or at least be with someone who doesn’t mind and understands all of you... The good and the bad...” *gets too engrossed in his feelings*
Tartaglia: “Aweeee our little Xiao’s all grown up,”
Kaeya: “He used to be a real bumbling fool in high school. Took him forever to ask Y/N out,”
Xiao: *threatening glare* “You guys...”
Zhongli: “He’s grown a lot,”
Xiao: “Captain, you too?!”
Interviewer: “When you say the good and the bad... Do you mean that S/O has seen the bad sides of you? What do you think are the “bad sides”?”
Xiao: “Of course...! What are the bad sides...?” *hesitates to answer*
Kaeya: “Stubborn,”
Tartaglia: “Too hardworking,”
Thoma: “Blames himself too much for a bad play,”
Ayato: “Tsunde--”
Xiao: “Three examples is enough!!”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Xiao: *thinks for a moment* “Thank you... I don’t have to say much right? Cause I know you know what I mean already,” *small smile*
#8 Thoma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)
Polite number 2
Super pleasant and wholesome answers. 
The type to never take all the credit for himself and will tell reporters that “It’s all thanks to my team,”
Interviewer: “You’re voted as “best husband material” on the poll today. Any words about that?”
Thoma: “Oh really? *laughs* It’s an honour! Well, I suppose I do like to take care of the house chores. I feel really sorry Y/N has to handle everything on their own right now,”
Interviewer: “Do you think you’re the better cook or your S/O?”
Thoma: “Gosh that’s a tough one! *waves at camera* Sorry honey, I’m gunna have to take this one. *laughs* You are better at organizing things though!”
Interviewer: “The team voted that you’re “most likely to be married first”. Any plans?”
Thoma: “Oh wow! And I thought the previous question was hard! Haha! Ah well... it’s no secret. Y/N knows that I cherish my relationship with them. We’ve casually talked about it for a bit, but we aren’t in a hurry at the moment. Just having each other is a real blessing already,”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Thoma: “Hey sweetie! I love you, be back soon!”
#9 Ayato (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)
Is he the interviewee or the interviewer? Sometimes you can’t really tell.
Is great at explaining himself but doesn’t actually like interviews.
Reporters try not to cross him cause he’s known to bite back if the question is about a rumor/gossip that isn’t true.
Interviewer: “We heard that you met your S/O in your last year of high school. Did you only notice each other in your senior year?”
Ayato: *chuckles* “Not exactly. I was a transfer student. Y/N was tasked to make sure my transition into the new school was seamless. They did a great job, so great, that I couldn’t let them slip away,”
Interviewer: “Your sister and your S/O are quite close to each other, your S/O even used a picture of the two of them as their profile picture instead of a picture with you. Are you ok with that?”
Ayato: “Why wouldn’t I be?” *half-grin, half-smile* I rest easy knowing that the two of them get along well. Y/N will be a constant part of my life, after all, and they treat my sister just as their own sibling,”
Interviewer: “Does your S/O play a big part in your volleyball career?”
Ayato: “Y/N is part of the reason I’m able to enjoy volleyball as a professional player. There were certain situations which made it difficult for me to go into professional volleyball, but Y/N managed to push me through it,”
Interviewer: “Any message for your S/O back home?”
Ayato: “I’m certain that being without me is starting to be unbearable, hm? Not to worry, I promise I’ll be back soon,”
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ghostly-clown · 2 years
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Oh no, hello :), can I request coming out to the slashers? (Like how's they'd react to your new pronouns and such) thank you :)
Yes. YES. YESSSSS
I love this request so much thankyou 🙏
For this I'll try and do both (kinda focused mainly on pronouns tho) and to keep it neutral I'm gonna keep it as coming out as queer with they/them Pronouns, I hope that's ok <3
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Comming out to slashers 🏳️‍🌈
U know who to expect:
Michael myers, Jason voorhees, brahms heelshire, ghostface, Vincent sinclair (just my favourite brother this time), Thomas hewitt
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Michael Myers
- he will be surprised and a little confused
- he might take some time to think about it and then come back to you so you can further explain what it means
- once he realises your coming out to him he will go soft
- he won't show it (or not well) but he is honoured that you trust him enough to come out to him
- he will hug you as his way of saying he will always love and except you
- after that things will be otherwise normal, he dosnt speak so he can't use Pronouns but he will point people out as like a "Would u date them?" Thing
- I'm also pretty sure Michael would be ace, so there's that too
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Jason Voorhees
- he thought everyone was a little gay so he's not that surprised, but you will need to explain the whole pronouns thing to him
- after he is 100% excepting without a doubt
- he also dosnt talk but he still wants u to feel excepted so you will find lil cards around that say stuff like "your the best they there is :)" or "thems is a good pronoun fir u"
- he will go out of his way to make u feel comfortable and even help u burn all ur sheets with your dead-name
- he will also happily sit and listen to you rant about the celebrities u have a crush on
- All around just a guy trying his best and his best is alot so u won't need to worry
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Brahms Heelshire
- he dosnt get it at all, he's gonna ask so many questions
- he will ask the infamous "so does that mean you like me?"
- using the right Pronouns is gonna be hard only cause he's not used to it but after a week or two he'll get better
- always correcting himself when he uses the wrong name or pronoun by punching the wall
- you do so much for him the least he can do is use your pronouns whenever he can
- after month he will probably ask to use they/them pronouns cause he likes how they sound
- guess who's now a demi-boy
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Ghostface
- Billy is understanding but won't make a big deal of it
- he will ask who doesn't know and how comfortable u are with using your name and pronouns in public
- he wants u to feel safe more then anything
- Stu on the other hand is gonna treat it as if he were welcoming a whole knew person
- he is on the name and pronouns straight away, not a problem for him
- but he might accidentally out you by being too enthusiastic so be careful
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Vincent sinclair
- again you will have to explain this to him because he dosnt get it
- he will make alot of mistakes sorry :(
- but once he starts getting the hang of using the right pronouns he starts to get it
- seeing how you smile when he says something as simple as "oh, they're over there"
- after noticing that slight change to joy he will go out of his way to use your new name and new pronouns as much as he can
- he's happy to see you happy more then anything
- and he's always gonna be your safe space when u need a break
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Thomas hewitt
- he will probably be the hardest to come out to mainly cause of his family
- he will ask alot of somewhat uncomfortable questions
- he does genuinely want to understand why this is important to you so he will use they/them here and there
- he might accidentally out you to his family but that's when he realises how important this is to you
- he will feel so bad for the longest time and will always be apologising for it
- but on the up side he has since doubled down on using the right pronouns, and the rest of the family being scared of him will follow his lead
- he's trying his best and does just want u to feel happy and comfortable
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brightwoods · 3 years
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Oh me? I’m just thinking about how even the characters who don’t have a problem with Alastair at this point (with the one exception of of Cordelia’s one comment to Thomas that was far tamer than things other characters say about him and that if it was going to be to Thomas couldn’t even be after Thomas threatened to throw him in the Thames right in front of her face at her wedding which was certainly worse) won’t say a word to defend him or even establish to people who do have a problem with him that they don’t
Like we’ve got
1. Cordelia who has never said a word about anything her friends have said about Alastair in front of him when they’ve been blatantly making snarky comments about him in front of her and she won’t even tell them not to say those things around her
She also never actually stood up for him in that one context with Thomas. She just asked if he just remembered that Alastair was her brother and at least she did say well he’s my brother and I love him but she still constantly excuses negative comments about him and never corrects them or says something about their comments in front of Alastair or even to him separately about it
Like it felt very well yeah he sucks but he’s my brother and I love him more than a defence
Also she never even said a simple that’s not the only good thing he’s done when Matthew eavesdropped on her private conversation with Alastair and then showed up with the backhanded comment like wow can you believe I happened to hear the only decent thing Alastair has ever said or done in his entire life when he very easily could have just talked about what he came there for instead of making comments at Alastair’s expense for his audience of only Cordelia who from what he’s seen doesn’t really seem to have a problem with any comments about Alastair in front of her
2. Thomas who used to annoy the hell out of his friends constantly going out of his way to interact with Alastair and ask about his feelings and treat him like a person but no longer did that after the Academy which yes is partly because of how his friends acted every time he mentioned Alastair or spoke to him but also Thomas is out here with feelings for Alastair and staying absolutely silent on the negative comments about him from other people instead of disagreeing or defending him or saying anything about not wanting to hear it
And then even worse, after he found out about the rumour he actively joined in and started talking shit about Alastair publicly whether Alastair was there or not... which yes, he was mad, I get that and it’s not like Alastair didn’t use to talk shit about him in front of other people
But the part that really gets me is that in the Sanctuary, Thomas never says anything to take those things back or to contradict any of the negative shit that’s the general consensus about him. He goes on about how much he wanted to hate Alastair and tried to and about how hot Alastair is and about how Alastair was always his secret and was his favourite part of his trip and he kisses him with no one around but he doesn’t really say anything that’s definitively about Alastair as a person beyond his physical appearance, sexuality, and availability
He basically said hey let’s pretend that no one else exists and Paris was the first time we met and make out so that we don’t have to think about any consequences or anyone outside or this room and then wondered why Alastair went oh your friends hate me, this isn’t possible once they were both free and all the evidence up to that point suggested that Thomas was still years past the point of sticking his neck out for Alastair in front of his friends no matter what his friends said and no matter how much he liked him
(He also did not say anything that we got to see after that about Alastair or to him in front of anyone else beyond trusting him in the fight with him and Christopher but then it was Thomas and other characters talking after with Alastair off on his own when Cordelia got there already again which we don’t have full context for but seems like Thomas went right back into his behaviour from before the sanctuary and before the rumour where he’s not saying things against Alastair and sure he’s tolerating him around other people but he’s also not saying anything in his favour or establishing that he doesn’t actively have a problem with Alastair and think he’s a horrible person anymore (which hopefully will come up with other characters later but at this point we have seen no hints of in what we saw of Thomas around other characters after the Sanctuary scene)
3. James who forgave Alastair and is willing to be civil and kind to him away from his friends and then just doesn’t really speak to or acknowledge him in front of his friends... and in front of other people tells Alastair that he had better treat Cordelia well or he won’t let him in their house or be civil to him anymore as it Alastair hadn’t been treating her well before that point and it was James’ warning that would inspire his behaviour around her
It’s also interesting how there’s silence or that in public but in private he will say that no one judges Alastair for his father’s drinking problem and will talk to him about Thomas and Matthew and giving them time
James seems to think Alastair deserves a chance but also has no intention of letting anyone else catch on that he thinks that even when Alastair tells him how he’s trying to make amends and he doesn’t know how to fix it if no one will let him apologize
Like sure James is over old things and is better than actively complaining about Alastair and being rude to him... but he also lets his friends say whatever they want about Alastair without ever saying a word about it, even when his friends are threatening his wife’s brother in front of her at their wedding
Sure, he has less obligation to speak up for Alastair, but also when he married into the family and then continues to listen to it constantly without even blinking at anything said about him is definitely worse than if he wasn’t married to Cordelia (and also I’m still including him even if he has a lot less obligation to speak up for him because he is still another person that’s like oh sure Alastair’s alright but don’t tell anyone I said that, I’m certainly not going to show that I’m on decent terms with him in front of anyone else)
4. And then obviously there was Charles who would never say anything remotely positive about him in front of anyone else and pretty much doesn’t acknowledge his existence around other people except for that time that he called him pathetic in front of Cordelia which yikes what a way to try to get an ex back, I wonder why it didn’t work...
5. And okay listen I know that Christopher is by no means the main issue at all and that he doesn’t really seem to have a problem with Alastair, but he very much follows along with what the other Merry Thieves think... like sure he won’t say anything against Alastair but he won’t say anything for him either or say anything about the constant comments the others make and it’s very clear in Chain of Iron that he entirely takes his cues for whether they’re tolerating and acknowledging Alastair or not from the other Merry Thieves where it’s like oh we have a problem with Alastair now... oh he got Thomas out and now Thomas is not ac to very threatening him so he must be alright to fight with okay...
Like Christopher doesn’t have an obligation to say anything about the way the others talk about him or anything when he doesn’t really have any ties to Alastair or reason to speak up but he is another character that’s like well I don’t have a problem with him but okay let’s all go along with this group mindset about him that at this point is just Matthew hating him so loudly that everyone goes oh okay we’re supposed to not like him and not stir the pot by saying anything to contradict that (and Thomas hating him just as loudly for a while before Christopher saw oh okay I think Thomas might be over it? which hopefully means Christopher’s going to be more likely to show that he’s willing to talk to Alastair and tolerate being around him during Chain of Thorns which it’s sad to say in this series is a high bar for how people treat Alastair even though that should be a the bar is on the floor moment)
And this post is way longer than I meant for it to get, but my point is that you know that Alastair thinks he still deserves having no one defend him or even show they’re okay enough with him to tolerate him when anyone else is around because at the Academy he didn’t defend anyone else and targeted other people that no one was standing up for just like he’s being targeted so it must be karma that even when he manages to claw his way up to people having a better opinion of him and not actively thinking that he deserves to be hated, those people still stay silent around and about him so that the only things said about him are still negative
And anyway if at least 4 characters don’t have an interaction with Alastair that isn’t negative and that isn’t when they’re alone with him or with just the Carstairs in Chain of Thorns then I am going to scream in rage for the rest of eternity
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fly high!!
summary: logan has carried the nickname of "ice king" with him since middle school. he has never successfully meshed with a team before. his opponents think him incapable of growth.
his opponents are wrong, and their mistakes carry a heavy price.
(OR: a haikyuu!! au; one game featuring logan the genius setter and his team)
a/n: rewatched haikyuu!! got inspired. here's 3.5k! HUGE huge thank you to josie ( @flamingfawkes ) for beta reading! title comes from haikyuu!! s2 opening 2
CW: trash-talking, insults, minor injury/blood mention, references to past mistakes, making assumptions based on past actions, swearing, nonspecific v-mit mention
wordcount: ~3.5k
read it on ao3!!!
“Hey, isn’t that the crazy setter from that middle school tournament last year?”
“Yeah, they called him the Ice King!”
“Whoa, what a cool nickname!”
“Not so cool if you’re on the court with him. I hear his teammates kicked him out of his last game because he’s incapable of being a team player.”
“No wonder he ended up at that garbage school - I bet none of the good schools would take him!”
“How stupid does that team have to -”
“Hey!” Remus barks loudly, jerking his chin up and leering at the suddenly-terrified players. “You got somethin’ to say about my teammate, you absolute rat bastard -”
“Remus!” Thomas grabs the libero by his collar and picks him up like a drowned cat. “I apologize for my teammate. He gets a bit . . . overzealous at times. Remus, apologize.”
“Go to hell!” Remus says cheerfully, twisting around to try and lick Thomas’s arm. Thomas drops him in disgust, but Remus lands like a cat and rolls to his feet, bouncing away with a cackle.
“What was that all about?” Roman asks. Remus takes his bag back and slings it over his shoulder, looking up at his twin. “I thought we talked about causing trouble at tournaments - they’re going to kick you out, and we don’t have a backup libero anymore.”
“People were being assholes about Logan. You think I can just let that slide?” Remus bares his teeth, and Roman levels a glare at the opposing players.
“Oh, well in that case,” he mutters, pushing up his sleeves. Before either of them can respond, Logan reaches out and grips their shoulders.
“Please do not get into fights on my account.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re not going to get in them on your own account, are you?” Remus says. “You can pretend you don’t have feelings all you want, Logan, I know the shit they say bothers you.” Logan flinches, just barely, and Remus reaches up to pat at his shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore, Logan. You don’t have to fight these battles on your own. We’re not going to let them shit-talk you and get away with it.”
“I might not be as willing to fistfight people for your honor as my deviant brother over here, but I know for a fact that the whole team shares his sentiments. You’re not the person you were in that middle school tournament.” Roman places his hand over Logan’s, and Logan offers him a small smile.
“Are we fighting people?” Janus asks. “Remus, darling, you know we’re not supposed to do that in uniform. What if you get blood on it? I know you didn’t pack a spare, and I won’t have time to launder it before our game. Besides, you know better than to make threats where there are witnesses with recording equipment present.”
Remus slips out of Logan’s grip and bounces off towards the court, chattering idly to Janus and waving his hands around. Thomas turns back to them, setting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.
“You okay?"
“I am adequate.”
“Not what he asked you,” Roman says, shoulder-checking Logan as they keep walking.
“I know what people say about me. I am aware of the toll my past behaviors took on my working relationships with my team. I am . . . working to be better than I was, but I am not sure I have made much progress.”
“You’re already loads better than you were,” Roman says. “You’ve got a great eye for tosses, and you’re learning to talk to the rest of us. We’re getting there. We are.”
Logan blinks, looking back and forth. “Where’s Virgil?”
“Probably in the bathroom, trying not to throw up.” Logan looks alarmed, which is to say that his eyes widen slightly. “Don’t worry, he usually doesn’t. He just has nerves that get the better of him, so he takes some alone time in the bathroom to calm himself down.”
Virgil rejoins them at the doors of the gymnasium, looking pale and faintly green. “You okay?” Thomas asks. Virgil nods, winding a stray lock of hair around his finger. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ve been working on that pinch serve for how long now?”
“Months, but it could still go wrong, it -”
“It won’t. You’re called a pinch server for a reason, Virgil. We bring you in when we’re in a pinch.”
“Which puts even more pressure on me to not mess up!”
“You will be fine,” Logan says. He turns around, peering at Virgil through his sports glasses. “I have faith in you. You are more than your serves - you are also an excellent blocker with swift reflexes. You are a multi-purpose tool, and I will utilize you to the best of my ability.”
Virgil stares at him, mouth slightly open, and Logan blinks, leaning back, eyebrows creasing. “Was - that an insensitive remark? I meant no disrespect.”
Virgil blinks at him, once, and then laughs, gently socking Logan in the arm. “Maybe other people would have found it insensitive, but I found it comforting. Thanks, Lo.” Logan crinkles his eyes and curves the corner of his mouth up, gently bonking his forehead against Virgil’s shoulder.
*~*~*~*~*
“I’m sorry!” Roman sprints across the court and pulls Janus to his feet. “I hit you in the face, are you alright?”
“I’ll never recover,” Janus says, rubbing his face. “Am I bleeding?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Still have all my teeth?”
“Yep.”
“Then I’ll be fine.”
“You really gotta get better at receives, Jan!” Remus laughs.
“And why would I do that when I have my darling libero looking out for me?” Remus grins, pleased, and Janus ruffles his hair fondly.
“Can you please not be gross with my brother right the fuck in front of me?”
Janus raises a single eyebrow at him before leaning down and very deliberately sliding his tongue into Remus’s mouth. “What the fuck, I officially retract my apology for hitting you in the face, I’m done, I’m leaving, goodbye -”
“That’s an . . . unusual warmup strategy,” the opposing captain tells Thomas.
“They’re unusual players,” Thomas says.
*~*~*~*~*
“Thomas, nice serve!”
Thomas spins the ball between his hands, takes a deep breath, tosses it in the air, slams it forward. “Damn it - straight to their libero!”
“It’s a quick from the left! Janus, that’s you -”
“On it!”
“Nice one-touch - pick it up!”
“Remus -”
“Got it!”
Logan turns, runs, leaps up into position, scans over the team. Where are the blockers - where are the spikers - what’s the position - who can he use - what can he do -
“Logan, to the ace!”
“Number two, number two!”
Roman jumps on the left, Janus on the right, and coming from the back row - the pipe, he can do it, where is Thomas, he’s running from the back, he’s in the air, twist lift and set -
Thomas slams it straight past the opposing blockers and hits cleanly. The referee blows her whistle, and the score changes. One point in their favor.
“Logan, I wanted a toss!” Roman complains. Logan squints at him - is he really upset? No, his eyes are crinkled like when he laughs at Remus’s stupid jokes, and he shows Logan a thumbs-up.
“You can have the next one,” Logan says.
“Telegraphing your next move so loudly? I guess the Ice King has lost his touch,” Number Eight calls. Remus begins snarling from the back row, but Logan turns a cool stare at his opponent.
“I have more than one weapon in my arsenal.”
Number Eight scoffs, but Logan just turns away. “Thomas,” he says. Thomas looks at him, and Logan lifts his hands, signing quickly. Setter-back-row. Aim-receive-9. Thomas nods, taking the volleyball again.
Remy touches Emile’s shoulder gently. When he turns to look, Remy nods at Logan and Thomas. “What is he saying?”
Emile turns more fully towards him. “Their setter is in the back row. He’s not allowed to move to the front row until after the serve, so there’s a moment of confusion where he has to run in front of someone. If you aim a serve correctly, there’s a delay, which can mess up even the strongest receiver.”
Sure enough, the setter darts in front of Number Nine, and the receive goes flying out of bounds.
“He really is something else, isn’t he?” Remy asks.
“Logan? Yeah, he’s got great analytical skills, and they’re fast to boot. His problem is communication, but this team . . . it’s not gonna let him get away with being silent for long.”
Thomas serves again, and they receive it more cleanly. The set goes up, the spike goes down, and Remus dives to catch it. “Nice receive!” Logan moves into position, his hands go up, Roman gets into position and jumps, the blockers move in front of him, and Logan shifts at the last second and dumps the ball right in front of the net.
Number Eight glares at him again. Logan stares back impassively. “Was that supposed to impress me, Ice King?"
“Was that supposed to intimidate me . . .” Is Logan supposed to insult him back? How would Remus insult him? He will never understand the art of trash talking someone. “For someone playing a team sport, you seem to be incredibly self-centered right now.”
Number Eight scoffs at him and turns away; Logan just blinks.
“Was he trying to insult me?” he asks Roman.
“Probably,” Roman says.
“Oh. Was I supposed to insult him back?”
Roman grins at him, sharp and bloodthirsty. “Let your tosses insult that pesky motherfucker. Don’t be afraid to rely on me to help you, hmm?”
Logan nods. “As you wish.”
Remus has to dive for the next receive, and it comes off-kilter. “Sorry!”
Nothing to apologize for, Logan thinks. You got the ball in the air. That’s all I need. 
Roman slams the ball past two blockers without even trying.
*~*~*~*~*
They take the first set narrowly, 25-20. Their opponents attack with a vengeance in the second set, and it isn’t long before the player-swap whistle blows and Virgil steps up to serve.
Logan hands him the ball; their fingers overlap. Virgil looks at him, and Logan looks back, crinkling his eyes. “You can do this,” he says, voice low. “They underestimate you the way they underestimate me. I can see it in their eyes. Show them why that is a mistake.”
Virgil blinks at him, taking the ball. “You got it, Lo.”
“What’s he gonna do?” Number Eight laughs. Logan returns to his front line position next to Janus.
“You know, you really run your mouth quite a bit for someone who has yet to show me anything truly impressive,” Janus drawls. Number Eight looks like he wants to flip him off, but before he can, Virgil serves.
“It’s out!”
Number Eight smirks, chin up, but Logan doesn’t look at him. He keeps watching the ball as it travels, travels, wavers, wobbles, and drops to the court, just within the line.
The opposing team turns to stare in shock as the whistle blows.
“Nice serve!” Remus and Roman yell, sprinting over to slap their hands against Virgil’s in victory.
“I knew all that practice was gonna pay off!”
“You’re amazing!”
“Guys, it’s just one point,” Virgil says, rubbing the back of his neck. His face has a pleased flush.
“It’s one more point than we had!” Remus says. “One point is the beginning - it’s all we need! Now go out and get us one more!”
Virgil serves, again and again, and racks up three more points before the opposing team figures out what to do with his jump float serve.
*~*~*~*~*
Not all blocks are equal, Janus thinks. The goal is not always to shut the ball down. Sometimes, a wall is not possible. 
Janus is not a tall middle blocker; he isn’t nearly as short as Remus is, but he’s only average height. He cannot shut down the opposing spikers the way that someone else might. He hears what people say when they see him take position.
How can he possibly be a middle blocker with that height?
Aim for the middle, he’s too short to make any difference!
Even if he jumps, he can’t stop you!
They are all fools.
Janus does not need to stop a ball to block effectively.
He jumps, and Number Six smirks at him, aiming right for him. Janus can see Remus moving behind him from the corner of his eye, and he smirks right back at Number Six.
I don’t have to stop your spike to shut you down. 
He shifts his fingers, and the ball bounces off of them. “A soft block?!” Number Six shouts. Janus hears the ball make contact with Remus’s forearms, and he’s running when he lands. By the time Logan’s hands are in the air, Janus is all the way at the other side of the net, and he swings his hand as though he’s going to slam the ball down. Number Six jumps in front of him, snarling, and Janus shifts to the tips of his fingers again and feints.
The ball drops to the court just behind Number Six, the referee’s whistle blows, and Janus lands. “Was the toss alright?” Logan asks, jogging over. “Do you need me to make any adjustments for you?” Janus notices the way his eyes widen, as though he’s afraid he’ll get yelled at, and he smiles. It’s genuine; despite the popular misconception, he is capable of those.
“It was wonderful,” he says. “Nice toss, Logan.”
Logan smiles up at him. “Nice feint!”
“Damn it!” Number Six shouts. Janus turns to him and smiles with all his teeth, no mirth behind it.
You underestimate me at your own peril.
*~*~*~*~*
Their opponents call a time-out, and Logan grabs his water bottle. Remus slaps him on the back before he has a chance to take a sip. “Logan!”
Logan turns, startled, and Remus grins up at him. “You’re on the back row when we go in, right?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t run forward.”
“What?”
“Don’t move forward to set. Focus on getting the cleanest possible receive you can, okay? Just get it into the air.”
“If I receive, I cannot set,” Logan says. “I do not understand.”
Remus drops his grin, showing Logan his ‘I’m-being-serious’ hand sign. “I know you’re a genius setter, but trust me, Logan. My brother and I have a trick or two up our sleeves. It’ll be okay.”
Logan blinks at him. “I am unsure of this plan.” Remus just keeps watching him. “However . . . I trust you. I trust my team. If you say that you can handle it, then you can.” Remus grins at him, holding up his hands for a high ten. Logan tucks his bottle between his legs and high-tens him back.
Before they step back onto the court, Remus grabs Roman’s wrist. “Wh -”
“I told Logan to focus on receiving this next spike.” Roman turns to look at him.
“What the hell - why would you do that?”
“He’s all the way in the back row! And it must be tiring, setting all those balls one after another. Don’t you think it’s Wonder Twin time?” Roman’s expression changes from angry to joyous in an instant.
“You know what? You’re absolutely right.”
The serve comes in, and Logan shifts into a receiving stance. Remus and Roman make eye contact across the court, and Roman’s eyes flick to the left. Remus nods. Logan receives the ball cleanly. “Nice receive!”
“Their setter received it!” Number Two yells. “They’re limited!”
Not on my watch, motherfucker, Remus grins. He sprints forward, touches down right in front of the attack line, jumps, twists, and lifts his hands. Roman heads for the left, all three blockers surge up to meet him, and then he pivots and sprints to the center. Remus tosses, Roman jumps, and the ball slams down onto the opponent’s court.
Remus, who isn’t used to being in the air, lands on his ass, but he rolls to his feet quickly. “Take that, you son of a -”
“Remus!” Thomas snaps. Roman sprints back and gives him a high ten, grinning, and Logan looks at him.
“You can set?”
“I’m better at receiving, and I’m not really tall enough to play any position other than libero. But that doesn’t mean you’ve seen my whole bag of tricks! I can set in a pinch, as long as I jump from behind that attack line, but I really only practice setting for Roman, so I don’t do it for anyone else.”
Logan blinks, and then his face breaks out into a wide, unrestrained grin, one hand flapping rapidly at his side. “You’re so cool!” he bursts. “That’s amazing, that’s so so cool!”
Remus grins, flushing under the praise. “I know! I am amazing, aren’t I? Marvel at my power!”
“Don’t compliment him like you mean it, Logan, he’s gonna get a big head!” Roman scolds. Remus sticks his tongue out, and Logan laughs.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan lifts his hands to the back of his head, like he’s covering it against the serve. He shifts his fingers to signal: synchronized attack.
The serve goes up, clean receive, which means the most likely course is -
“Center attack!” Logan shouts. Number Three scoffs as his center straight comes down right against Remus’s waiting hands.
“It’s all yours, Logan!”
All four of them move in unison - Virgil, Janus, Roman, Thomas, all running forward in unison. Logan shifts, watches the confusion of the blockers, lifts his hands. The toss that will work the best, the toss that can score a point, the spiker who will carry the momentum of this match is -
“Watch out, it’s number 13!”
Virgil slams a cut shot across three blockers and scores without breaking a sweat. “Unlucky,” he smirks, fistbumping Janus.
*~*~*~*~*
The second set comes to a deuce, and they call a time out. “We need to gain a two-point lead to take this match, but don’t get so caught up in the idea of the next point that you miss the one in front of you. Keep your focus in the moment, not the future. Understand?”
“Yes!”
Logan tosses the ball into the air, jumps, and serves. As the other team receives, he grabs Roman’s shirt. “Roman, instead of a wall, try an umbrella!”
“What?”
Roman’s eyes widen in recognition as they jump to block the spike, deflecting it towards the back. “Remus!” Thomas shouts.
“I got it - it’s up!”
“Roman!” Logan shouts, turning to set.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Ice King!” Number Eight laughs. All three blockers converge on Roman, who jumps and bounces the ball off the block.
“What?!”
“A rebound?!”
“Remus, pick it up!” Roman shouts.
“I got it!”
“Come on, let’s go!”
Roman and Janus jump at the net, but Logan is already setting for the pipe. Thomas jumps from the back, slams the ball past the block, and scores.
“Nice kill!”
“You couldn’t use lingo that’s a little more clear next time?” Roman complains
“Why would I need to? You understood what I meant, didn’t you?”
Roman ruffles his hair, and Logan swats at his arm. “Hey, that hurts, don’t do that!” Roman just laughs and keeps going.
*~*~*~*~*
The rally has been going for almost two minutes now, the ball constantly in the air, and the exhaustion is setting in. They have the lead by one point, and they only need one more to take the match. “Come on, come on!”
“They’re gonna use the ace! Cover Number Three!”
Roman jumps, Logan’s hands go up, the blockers move to cover Roman, and Logan dumps the ball. Number Ten dives for it, but it drops to the ground right in front of him.
They take their second set, and the match, 26-24.
*~*~*~*~*
Patton tucks his manager notebook into his bag and starts handing out water bottles. “You were all amazing! Logan, I think that’s the most you’ve communicated in a match, and it really showed!”
Logan takes the water bottle, nodding. “It took me a while to learn how to communicate most effectively with my teammates. I was trying to carry the entire weight of the team on my shoulders as the setter. But I . . . am not the only one on my team thinking. I can give options, and trust that they will utilize those options effectively.”
“That’s right!” Remus crows, slapping his back. “We have brains too, Logan!”
“The rest of us, maybe. You? Debatable,” Virgil says. Remus immediately tackles him to the court.
“Are you trying to injure me?” Virgil shrieks. Roman rolls his eyes and sighs.
“I do not know how you put up with him on a regular basis, I truly do not,” Logan sighs.
“It’s a miracle I haven’t suffocated him in his sleep, it really is.”
*~*~*~*~*
The bus ride home is quiet. “I’m sorry,” Logan says.
Virgil passes him an earbud. “What do you mean?”
“I did not toss to you nearly as much as I have in previous and practice games when you were on the court.”
“No need to apologize for that, man. I wasn’t in as much as normal, and you utilized the rest of the team to the best of your ability. And we won, didn’t we? I’m not offended, I’m not gonna break up with you over it.”
Logan smiles, and Virgil tilts his head to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Take your post-tournament nap, Popsicle. We gotta build up our strength for tomorrow.”
Logan puts the earbud in, leans his head against Virgil’s shoulder; Virgil leans against him in turn, and they’re asleep before the bus crests the next hill.
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illogicallyinclined · 4 years
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Oh my gosh that’s a great thought,, Like how Logan comes in with the I’m not here to make friends mentality and everyone’s like fine we won’t be friends I guess (platonic slowburn) but Remy’s immediately like “Yall DONT GET IT. If you manage to drive Crofty out of the team I’m killing everyone in this room and then myself!” (Also Remy, crying at Joan once Logan comes in: Thank you so much you’re the best person ever)
i know this ask is from a while back (sorry for the delay in answering, my life is a perpetual loop of me screaming atm), but Absolutely Yes, You are 100% Correct
tws: vague allusions to abuse, cursing
when Logan first joins the Florida Aces, he has exactly one (1) objective, and that objective is to Play Hockey. he didn’t have any friends growing up, he didn’t have any friends at his first university, and he has No Interest in making any friends at this new university either. he wants his teammates to respect him — because he’s good at what he does, he knows that, and it’s incredibly difficult to build a solid team without a healthy amount of respect amongst teammates — but more than that, he just wants them to listen to him. he wants them to heed his input so that they can win, then leave him alone to do his job in peace. 
and a part of the reason that Logan adopts this mindset early on is because he is naturally a bit abrasive and blunt. he values efficiency over sentiment — was raised in an environment where tangible accomplishments were valued over intangible relationships — and as a result, he genuinely doesn’t see the merit in building comradery with his teammates off of the ice. but, at the same time — (and Logan would never admit it, could never admit it, not to his teammates or Coach Thomas or even himself) — a part of it is also... self preservation, in a sense.
because here’s the thing: Logan wasn’t the starting goaltender at Brown. as a matter of fact, he never even earned the right to play in net. and his dad... well. (he wasn’t exactly happy about that, is all Logan’s willing to say.) so now that Logan is the starting goaltender of the Florida Aces, he can’t fuck it up. he can’t. and the Florida Aces aren’t “bad,” per se — they’ve actually been rising steadily through the ranks over the last decade of play — but they also called Logan in for a reason, and that reason was because they needed a solid, consistent netminder to secure them more wins. so Logan doesn’t have the luxury of getting sidetracked by meaningless things like “team bonding,” nor does he have the willpower to grow attached to his teammates when the only reason he’s even been brought onto the Florida Aces is to solve their goaltending dilemma.
and at first, the Aces make it easy for Logan to stay distant. Roman takes an immediate disliking to him, and Logan instinctively bristles at the challenge, leading to weeks of conflict that leave a majority of the team wary of their newest addition. Remus actively hounds Logan while he’s in net, and although Virgil and D aren’t unkind to him (or,,, at least aren’t any more unkind to him than they are to the rest of the team), neither of them take the initiative to get to know him outside of the rink either. Patton and Emile, as friendly as they are, have a habit of completely (albeit unintentionally) dismissing Logan’s ideas, and even Coach Thomas shuts Logan down with an abruptness that almost hurts, (which. it’s ridiculous, because Logan doesn’t need Coach Thomas to like him, he doesn’t, he just needs to win, that’s all he’s here to do.) in any case, Logan joins the Florida Aces with the goal of making Zero Friends, and for the most part, the team seems to be more than willing to accommodate. 
but then, there’s Remy Belmonte.
Remy Belmonte, ex-starter for the Aces, two years Logan’s senior. Logan, freshly 17, swept into Florida one day, and just... stole his job from him. and Logan honestly expected him to be angry about it, you know? he expected Remy to be bitter or jealous — expected Remy to resent him on principle; (the starter from Brown certainly had, and Logan wasn’t even a threat to him). except, the first time that Logan steps foot in the Aces locker room, Remy greets him with a bright grin and a hug that takes him so off guard that he squeaks. when Coach Thomas introduces Logan to the team, Remy is the one to kick off the Team Cheer, and at the end of practice, Remy’s the one that claps a hand on Logan’s shoulder and says “Welcome to the Florida Aces. It's Hell. You're gonna love it.”
and, despite Logan’s best efforts, Logan finds that he wants to be Remy’s friend, too.
and Logan keeps waiting for the grace period of amiability to wear off. he keeps waiting for Remy to grow sick of playing backup — to grow jaded and dissatisfied and spiteful as the team continues winning and he keeps getting relegated to the bench. but the weeks pass, and Remy still brings Logan coffee, even when Logan refuses the initial offer. he still calls Logan “girl’ and “babe” in the same sentence, still ruffles Logan’s hair after a good save at practice. he still takes Logan’s side in his arguments against Roman, still snaps at Coach Thomas whenever he dismisses Logan too harshly, still patiently explains slang terms to Logan whenever a new one pops up in the team groupchat. months pass, and Remy still wants to be Logan’s friend.
---
(tldr; Logan really, really doesn’t want to make friends with the Florida Aces. but Remy says “fuck that, you’re my child now, you have no choice,” and... well.)
(nobody — not even Logan Crofter — can win an argument against Remy Belmonte) 
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sleeperswakewriting · 3 years
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Have you ever read the rivetra fic "in all of the lives we are" on fanfiction net? Because I did and parts of it are canon in my head. What I really want to ask is :can you too please bless us with a canonverse reincarnation fic?
I haven't read it but I bookmarked it to read later! Thank you for the rec, anon! I have a canonverse reincarnation fic that I scrapped when I first got back into writing. I plan on writing one in the future with a lot more depth, but I'll share this draft since I don't plan on going back to this fic in particular. Warning, meh writing ahead 😅
“And then my soul saw you and it kind of went, "Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you.”
— Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You
Childhood; where threads begin, or were they there all along?
The world is a cruel place, is the mantra Levi murmured to himself over and over again.
Kenny left him when he was 10 and after giving the police the run around, he found himself in a group home for children with disturbed conduct, also known as, the leftovers in the system. The leftovers that even foster care didn’t want to look twice at because everyone in this shitty place was just as fucked up as the last kid.
Mom, why did you have to die and leave me with Uncle Kenny? Did you know he was a gang leader? Or maybe you knew being part of a gang was better than this hellhole.
He wasn’t stupid, he knew his mother was a whore, and if the feds ever found out he was living in a brothel they would’ve taken him in an instant. So maybe it was luck that he had the amount of time with her that he did.
He still remembered how she desperately tried to shield him from her work, locking him in the closet when he was small, and when he got bigger, hiding underneath the bed and saying very sternly Levi, my love, you can’t make a sound or else mommy is going to get in trouble. Remember to cover your ears, just like we practiced.
And then when she died, it didn’t come suddenly. It was coughing in the middle of the night, him begging her to please let him find a doctor and he didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted them to be together, but his mother shook her head and insisted she would be fine.
She wasn’t, of course, and Kenny both saved and damned him. He learned how to fend for himself, beat men twice his size, and take their wallet while they were recovering from his blows. He learned how to use a knife threaten people, and while his size threw people off, he used that to his advantage.
Even though he didn’t have his knives here, he knew how to fight hand to hand, and he was itching to land a blow to the next kid who tried to steal his dinner. It was his third month into the group home, and he was on his “last warning” as the head said, and next stop was juvie. He didn’t care, his life was at the end of the line and he was only 11.
“Hey, dip shit. Gimme your cookie.” Levi glanced at the boy who suddenly appeared, some new comer who clearly didn’t know his reputation. The boy was older and bigger than him, he guessed around 13 or 14, but he didn’t care. He ignored him and took a stab at the stale meatloaf.
“Did you fucking hear me? I said give me the goddamn cookie.” Levi sighed at the idiocy of this place, he knew what it was like to starve and despite the shit he gave this place, he couldn’t complain about the three (shitty) meals they got a day and the roof over his head. The company was much to be desired and that’s what usually got him into trouble.
“Tch. Go bother someone else, I’m not interested,” he said cooly, and the boy’s face grew red. Levi balled his left fist under the table, ready to throw a punch the minute he got too close to him.
“You little fucker—“ The boy began, but before Levi could take a swing at him, his shirt collar was pulled back by a smirking brown haired boy.
“Hey, hey, Matty, you don’t want to pick on him. Didn’t you hear that he landed Sam in the hospital last month?” Immediately the boy called Matty paled and backed off instantly.
“This little guy did that? Respect, Sam was a piece of shit anyway,” he muttered the last sentence and waved Levi away.
Levi shrugged and returned to his dinner, not paying the newcomer any mind but the boy took it upon himself to sit across from him, grinning. “You’re welcome,” he said, biting into his apple. “The name’s Furlan. You’re Levi, right?”
“Didn’t ask for your help,” Levi quipped, looking up at the eerily jolly boy, narrowing his eyes. “Since you know my reputation, you might not want to stick around.”
Furlan laughed, and Levi a twinge of irritation as he continued talking instead of walking away like everyone else did. “I don’t think you’re that scary, Levi. From what I heard, you don’t start fights, right? I think the guys think you’re an easy target since you’re…Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really short. Even though everyone’s afraid of you, I think, if they’re like me, they’re really just impressed that someone around here isn’t afraid to fight the bullies.”
Levi didn’t say anything to that, he was just trying to survive into the next fucking day, and didn’t think of himself as some sort of savior. But, if Farlan believed in him, maybe he wasn’t so fucked up as he thought.
He sighed, giving the boy a once over as he knew the step he was about to take. To be vulnerable. To give a shit about someone else for the first time in forever.
“So, what brought you here?” He said, as if he said those words before, the words rolling naturally off of his tongue not from an 11 year old, but someone who’s carried the weight of a lifetime.
And just like that, the threads intertwined again.
ii. Adolescence; where threads cross over but never touch
“First day of senior year, Eld! I have a good feeling about this—we’re going to ace our SATs, get into the same college, and we’re going to see the world!” Petra exclaimed, swinging her backpack as they walked to school. Eld chuckled, and flicked Petra’s forehead.
“See the world, huh? With what money? I don’t remember you applying to jobs with me and Gunther over the summer, and now you’re broke.”
Petra huffed and took a playful swipe at Eld’s shoulder. “You know I was helping my dad with his business over the summer. Oruo can vouch for me, he stopped by a couple times to help us—for free, no less!” Petra smiled, thinking about the laborious, but fruitful summer that her family had thanks to everyone’s hard work. Her dad’s hardware business was small compared to the big box stores, but their customers appreciated the charm and personalized customer care that the Ral’s offered. “He’s really grown up, hasn’t he? In grade school he wouldn’t be caught doing something without recognition, and I don’t even know if he mentioned to you two that he was helping out Fridays and Saturdays.”
“Hmm, yeah I guess you could say that,” Eld mused, shaking his head internally at Petra’s obliviousness. She, along with him, were usually the perceptive ones in their little friend group, but he supposed being childhood friends blinded her to certain things, like Oluo’s long time crush on her. Sure, he flirted with her, but he flirted with everyone, and it wasn’t until their sophomore year of high school that he started wanting to seriously date only Petra, but she took his advances as one of a matured best friend and less as a guy in love with his best friend. Eld wondered how involved he should get, maybe doing Oluo a favor and dropping a few hints to Petra that Oluo was a great guy despite his arrogance, and he has come along way since their freshman year.
But, the blond knew that Petra’s feelings for Oluo would remain as best friends, and after her most recent breakup with some guy who seemed like a short stint for junior prom and as a member of the girl’s soccer team, she couldn’t very well go alone…well, it wasn’t a surprise they parted ways shortly after prom.
She confided in Eld that she wanted to start college fresh and with new opportunities, and she would be damned if she let a guy decide her future. It wasn’t like she was going to turn down a date from a cute guy, but she wanted to be very clear that it wouldn’t be more than a few casual dates. Besides, she said to Eld and Gunther, one hazy summer evening when they were eating ice cream at the county fair, who needs a significant other when they all had each other? They then raucously toasted with their popsicles in the air to their future, wherever it took them, and love be damned!
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I did the “ask your friends the names of the tlh characters” + some other questions, with my friend so here it is, hopefully it’ll be as entertaining to you all as it was to me. Also her explanations got more lengthy as we went along because she was more interested.
I’ll write what she says in quotes and what I say in bold
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“Sarah, and she looks like a badass”
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“Sebastian or something fancy like that. He looks like a pretty, emo dude that everybody simps over”
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“Luke, related to the other emo dude, like a brother or something. He’s like the other one but actually emo and actually depressed. He’s secretive and mysterious. He’s the other one everybody simps over”
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“Conan, he is either the hot supervillain or the hot jock, like- the popular one. Gray wolf everybody simps over him but it’s like a weird simp.” me: *writing it down* what else did you say? “smexy” smexy? “I didn’t say that [before] but add that”
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“Do you know who the gareth of aphmau is?” uh, no? “He’s the Gareth of aphmau. He’s either the really smart blonde or the dumb blonde. People simp over him, and he’s also smexy. His name is probably also gareth” gareth? is that your guess for his name? “yeah, gareth”
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“Spencer, he’s the ‘nerdy’ one. Very smart. Science-y. Like a wizard or some kind of magical. Very simpable. He’s the purple one from the ninja turtles” Donatello? “yeah the purple one. Also smexy” smexy? “yes, smexy” (The fact that she brought up Donatello is mind-boggoling to me)
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“oh! oh!” *takes my phone* “Angela, all the guys simp for her like all the guys simp for her. She’s one of the main characters” they’re all main characters “Very smart. Very pretty. She’s also like badass but not in the physical way like in the smart way”
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“She looks so gay” *takes my phone again* “Andrea, she is badass like in the punk way. Tattoo girl” they all have tattoos? “yeah but like she’s the kind of person to have a lot of tattoos. she knowns she’s badass. She is so lesbian” *giggles*
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“Connor, he’s the little brother, he’s like the little one everybody likes. He tries to be strong as the rest. He’s also like the gray wolf type, no, like, you know the other guy. [alastair] some people also simp over him but like, not as many” so funny- so funny that you, you brought up Alastair huh “what?” funny “did I say something dumb?” *cries*
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“Oh my god. Oh my god she’s a queen. She’s gorgeous. Either the villain or the mom. Uhhh.. Esmeralda.”
Questions I asked:
So do you think Thomas is the youngest? “No, but people act like he is”
Who do you think is the oldest? *scorlling through the pictures* “That guy, (Alastair) unless someone is like a vampire or something”
Who do you think is the youngest? “that one” (Jesse) oh wait he is immortal “damn it!” he’s a ghost, I forgot. So other than him? “him!” (Christopher)
Who do you think is related? “this two” (James and Jesse) “He’s (Alastair) related to someone” “Oh she’s (Anna) related to the black-haired dude” the one with the gold eyes or the glasses? “oh but like I already said they were related...” oh, to the two guys (James and Jesse)? “yeah but then they would all have to be related, so maybe, maybe”
Who do you think has a crush on who and stuff? “Can you tell me their sexualities?” Ok so people who are straight or not confirmed since straight people are never confirmed we’ll just skip.. I’ll ask you about the confirmed ones “Are any of them like, genderqueer [other than anna]?” uh, nothing’s mentioned
Alastair: “Ace”
Mathew: “he’s either straight or gay uh... bi”
Anna: oh well she is a lesbian you got her right
Thomas: “straight” he’s not, that’s, why I asked you to guess “gay”
Ok so now who do you think has a crush on who?
Mathew: “on one of the brothers” (jesse/James) they’re not related “well whatever I’m calling them the brothers”
Christopher: “he has a crush on her (lucie)”
Anna: “she also has a crush on her (lucie)” I feel like I should tell you their ages
Thomas: “Ok so him and the alpha grey wolf guy [alastair]” they do!!! “they do!?” yeah!!
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logically-asexual · 3 years
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okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.
☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆
i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.
edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.
#16 I'm in a Disney Show
(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.
however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.
#15 Becoming A Cartoon
i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.
#14 Way Too Adult
here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.
#13 The Dark Side of Disney
i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.
#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself
this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.
#11 My True Identity
pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.
#10 Taking on Anxiety
i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.
- ★ -
okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.
#9 Growing Up
once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.
#8 The Mind vs The Heart
when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.
this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.
#7 Making Some Changes
this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...
#6 My Personality Q&A
when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.
now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.
i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.
- ★ -
oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.
#5 Alone on Valentines Day
i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.
also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.
#4 Am I Original
i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.
i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.
#3 Losing My Motivation
i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.
#2 Accepting Anxiety
this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.
and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.
#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking
i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.
Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.
- ★ -
so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡
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anjuschiffer · 4 years
Text
Breaking the Silence
My first Dickinette! Originally this was going to be for Maribat March, but ended up getting too invested on it... welp! Hope you enjoy this!
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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo
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AO3
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The door opened with a slam and closed with a click, Dick peeking over the doorway, his face lightening up upon seeing his children enter the home. However, a frown replaced his smile when he saw Thomas throw his bag to the side, Marie watching her twin brother with a pursed lip and worried eyes.
“-maybe he can help.” Marie whispered, trying to grab Thomas’ hand only to get it slapped away.
“Dad?” Thomas scoffed, dragging his hand down his face before flinging his hand in the direction of the kitchen. “That happy-go-lucky guy? Bet he’s never had to deal with this shit before.”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.” Marie urged, holding Thomas’ hand into her own. “Maybe he can-”
“He won’t and will not. And you better not tell him about any of this.” Thomas gritted, jerking his hand away from Marie, his eyes landing on his father who was now standing at the foyer of the house, a smile plastered on his face.
How long was he there for? How much did he know?
“So, how was school?” Richard asked, leaning on the wall, watching as Marie fidgeted under his watch while Thomas muttered something, averting his attention.
“It was alright.” Thomas started, picking up his school bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Aced my midterms if that helps.” Richard’s smile grew, Thomas wanting to roll his eyes as his father walked over to him and hugged him, ending the interaction by ruffling his midnight hair. 
“Definitely wonderful news! Worth celebrating over! Might have to call your mo-”
“He got in a fight.” Marie blurted out, her gaze on the floor, her fists trembling at her side, her name hissed out of her brother. 
“A fight?” Richard asked, Thomas rolling his eyes, feeling a bit ashamed when his father’s eyes narrowed. “With who-”
“It’s nothing you should be concerned about,” Thomas said, walking up the stairs to slowly retreat to his room. “No-thing,” Thomas enunciated each syllable.
“Stop lying Thomas,” Marie said, her voice wavering. She looked at her father with bluebell eyes, round and filled to brim with unshed tears. Richard’s heart ached. They looked just like hers. “He got in a fight with-”
“Marie.” Thomas sternly growled, watching his sister tense up. “Not. Now.”
“Thomas, let her-”
“Are you happy that you got Dad’s attention, Marie?” Thomas asked, Richard wondering what exactly was his son feeling. Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy?
“What are you-”
“Aren’t you happy Mar? Happy that Dad loves you sooo much, simply because you’re the better one out of the two of us? The one that never gets in trouble? The goody-two-shoes, just like him? Like her? Like them?”
“What? No!” Marie squeaked, her eyes darting from their father and Thomas. “No, I-”
“Oh stop lying to yourself, Mar.” Thomas walked back down the stairs, his bag abandoned at the top. “You just love the fact that Dad always prefers you over me. After all,” he looked past his father, watching as Marie cowered behind him, “-you look just like her.”
“Thomas.” Richard said sternly, standing in front of Marie, tears falling silently down her face. “That’s enough.”
“What’s enough?” Thomas asked with a dry laugh. “The fact that Marie looks just like Mom? The fact that Marie looks identical to Mom? The fact that you have an identical replica of Mom living with us despite me also being a part of her?” Thomas let out a shuddering sigh. “I bet you’d choose Mom over me if you had the chance, wouldn’t you?”
“Thomas. Take. That. Back.” Richard gritted.
“Why should I when we both know it’s the truth?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions young man.”
“Oh? Am I?” Thomas walked up to his father, the height difference not scaring him one bit. “Then explain why I’m always the outcast.” At that, Richard took a step back, wondering how to answer at the accusation. “Why was I always the one you avoided looking at? Why was I always the one sent to Grandpa Bruce’s manor while Marie got to stay with Grandpere Tom and Grandmere Sabine? Why was I the one who had to suffer through all the gossip behind my back? Why was I-”
“Because you resemble her the most.” Richard softly said, Thomas looking up to his father, wondering when he had curled into himself, why his vision was so blurry. When did he start crying? When did his father start crying? Why was he crying? “Because some days you sounded exactly like her.” Richard brought his son into an embrace, Thomas feeling his father tremble. “Even though you have my shade of blue eyes, you have her midnight hair.”
Thomas felt his chest both tighten up and feel lighter.
“You have her laugh and her voice, her button nose and scrunched up face whenever she ate something sour.” Thomas’ vision blurred again, a lump forming in his throat.
“Your freckles look identical to her’s, you have her smile when you eat your favorite ice cream combo: vanilla and chocolate mint.” Richard let out a wobbly laugh. “Did you know that was her favorite combination to eat?”
Richard separated himself from Thomas, watching Thomas hang his head in shame while also wiping his tears away.
“And despite never meeting her, you have the same habits she had.” Marie walked up to her father and silently cried into his side. He patted her head, pulling Thomas into a hug again, hearing muffled cries. “It’s not that I was avoiding you Thomas, I was just not prepared to face you… to face the reality that your mother will never be able to see how much her children have grown up without her seeing a single bit of it with her own eyes.”
Thomas’ wails broke the silence, Marie shortly joining in, her own sobs syncing with her brother’s, something Richard had yet to completely understand.
Even when they were infants -in the rare times they would cry- whenever one of them would cry, the other would join, their screams syncing into a single wail, sometimes scaring Richard.
It would still be something to get used to. 
Richard let his kids cry, knowing it was heavily needed. Talking to Thomas about the fight can wait for another time, his current emotions were more important than some fight from earlier that day.
He knew about Thomas’ constant fights, the academy always calling Richard to try to meet in person to speak about the situation, Richard always turning the appointments down. He already knew about them, he had for a while. He just knew it wasn’t the right time to approach Thomas about the issue.
He wanted to give Thomas the option to approach him, to confide in his father for advice.
Richard knew better than to pry information from people, if living with his adopted siblings taught him anything, it was to never pry. When he had applied pressure, or at least the majority of the time, it’d lead to an unwanted situation.
Their crying carried for minutes, almost an hour until they came to a soft hiccup, Thomas being the one to end the symphony of tears. Making sure that his kids calmed down completely and didn’t have anymore pent up emotions, Richard coaxed them to take a nap as Thomas and Marie ended up exhausting themselves, now drowsy from all the crying.
With great hesitance, the twins finally agreed to take a short nap, Thomas complaining how it would ruin his sleep schedule while Marie was starting to crave cake. Richard told Marie he would make sure a cake was made and finished before dinner while laughing at Thomas’ complaints. 
It reminded him of a certain someone.
Tucking Marie into bed and giving her a kiss on her forehead, Richard slipped out of Marie’s room and went to the kitchen to start working on the cake he had promised Mari. 
Setting up his work space, he got to baking, placing his glass bowl over a pan of hot water, cracking the eggs over it and placing the sugar and vanilla extract in as well. He began to mix the ingredients, feeling something was off.
“Oh! Don’t forget the honey! You always forget the honey!”
“Right! The honey!”
“And don’t forget to remove it-”
“Remove it when it gets to 40 celcius. And we have to do the same for the butter and milk.”
“Yup! Honestly, why do you keep asking me about the step if you got the majority of it down?
“Just making sure.”
“Once you mix the first bowl you gotta add the cocoa powder.”
“Right, the butter and milk come after that.”
“Yup! So let’s get back to baking!” 
“Hope I don’t forget a step along the way.” Richard said to himself, failing to notice the figure that peered from the kitchen doorway, watching Richard talk to himself as he made the batter, placed it in the oven and started to prep for the next step.
“Do you see that Mari? He’s doing just fine. He may still be healing, but he’s okay.”
——
“What’s the cake for? Is it the twin’s birthday already?” A voice asked, making Dick jump, almost misplacing the last strawberry on the cake. 
“Kor’i!” He exclaimed with a smile, placing the strawberry down and going up to kiss his wife, having to tip-toe a bit to kiss her cheek. “When did you get back home?”
“When you started baking.” Kor’i giggled upon seeing the blush on Richard’s face. “I didn’t want to bother you so-”
“You could’ve still said hi.”
“You were talking with M.” Kor’i said softly, watching as it dawned on Richard as to what she had meant.
“Oh,” was all he could say, rubbing the back of his neck. “Was I?” Kor’i nodded, noticing the mess on the counter.
“Why don’t I help you clean up? That way you can take a short break before dinner.” Kor’i suggested, Dick nodding, the two cleaning up the mess in sweet silence.
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The mess was cleaned, dinner ready to be heated and the cake to be eaten, but there was an hour to spare before Kor’i and Dick had to wake up the children, so they settled with sitting on the sectional sofa, Dick being Kori’s pillow as the two watched some drama Kor’i had been watching recently.
While Kor’i was highly immersed into the show, Dick was content in just being there, running his hand through her hair that seemed to flow for miles. Her sunset hair shimmered, before Dick realized it had turned midnight and short.
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“-hope that- Dick?” Kor’i asked, quickly turning when he had stopped moving. One minute he was stroking her hair, the next he had stopped. 
Quickly, Kor’i kneeled beside Dick. “Dick? Dick? Dick, are you alright?”
“Mari. Is Mari okay?” He asked, staring at his hands, Kor’i noticing that tears ran down his face, his eyes had turned glossy.
“Dick... Dick.” Kor’i repeated, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Dick, please, say something.”
“It was all my fault.” Dick whispered, still looking into the distance, watching as Mari’s casket was lowered into the ground. “It was all my fault.”
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Dick stormed out of the manor, slamming the door behind him, ignoring Alfred’s calls.
This is exactly why he hated Bruce. Why he hated Batman. Why he hated being Robin.
This is why this was going to be his last mission. His last mission... As a vigilante…
He had enough of all of this...he just wanted to have a life next to her.
As he made his way to his girlfriend’s home, ambulances rushed past him, firefighters and police cars following suit… all of them heading for-
“Mari.” With the worst case scenario in his head, Dick broke into a sprint, praying that it was all wrong. That what his gut was telling him was wrong. That Mari was fine. That she is alright.
Please, let her be okay.
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He couldn’t bear to see her nor to touch her. 
“I’m fine Dick.” Marinette softly said, placing her hand over his, drawing circles. “I’m going to be fine.”
“Why?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you so calm?” Dick grasped the mint green blanket into his hand. “Why aren’t you-”
“Because I was also at fault.”
“He was drunk.”
“But I also was crossing the street when the light was still green.”
“He was going over the speed limit, Marinette.” Dick gritted, getting up quickly, the hair falling down. “Don’t you understand how serious this is?”
“I made it out with a simple scratch.”
“Mari, that’s not a scratch. You could’ve ended up blind and possibly dead if it weren’t for your quick thinking and your phone.”
Marinette pursed her lips at that, balling the blanket under her grip.
She knew Dick was right, but she was grateful for her luck, only having the side of her face swollen and having a cut near her eye. 
True, she could’ve died if her phone didn’t take the hit for her leg… but Marinette was just happy to be alive…
Dick watched her avoid him as he took a breath, turning away from her as he collected himself. 
Do it for her. 
Bruce’s words rang in his head as he prepared himself for the biggest mistake of his life. Hell, the biggest regret of his life.
“I’ve had enough of this.” He said out of nowhere, Marinette wondering where this was coming from.
“Enough of what?”
“Of this!” Dick yelled, motioning at the hospital. “Every single time I come to visit you, I always end up here. Here!”
“Richard, I-”
“The first time I met you, it was my fault you were here. I wasn’t watching where I was driving, but since then?” Dick let out a dry laugh. “You manage to make it about yourself.”
“Richard, I had to-” 
“You should’ve let the ball roll off the first time, should’ve let the phone fall into the river the second, should’ve let the letter fly off into the air, let the dog runaway, let that girl-”
“How can you say that I was doing it for attention?” Marinette scowled. “I was helping someone, saving them on that last one.”
“Help to the extent of getting injured? Of dying?” Dick laughed before it came to a halt. “I can’t keep going like this. I rather not be involved with this.”
Marinette’s eyes shrunk, feeling her view become smaller. She could feel her chest tighten, a lump forming in her throat.
Please don’t… don’t say-
“I think it’s better if we go our own ways.”
He did...
Marinette didn’t know when he left, nor did she know when the other doctors came into her room. She only acknowledged them when one of them sat on her bed and held her hand, giving it a squeeze.
It was only then that she noticed that the other two doctors that were in the room avoided looking at her, their mouths in thin lines.
“I’m...I’m pretty sure you didn’t hear us when we came in...we noticed you were dazed off, recovering from today’s accident.” The doctor at her side said, letting out a huff. “We’re here to tell you about your friend, Alya.” Marinette perked at that. “We came to the decision to tell you about your friend now rather than later or through someone else.”
No. 
Please… don’t…
She can’t right now… She can’t lose another person… She won’t be able to handle that...
“Wh-What, where is Alya?”
She needed Alya right now...
“I’m sorry, but Mme.Ceshaire… she didn’t make it through the surgery.”
One minute Marinette saw the three doctors in her room… the next, her world had become dark.
------
“She’s awake! Someone! Get the doctor!”
Marinette’s eyes flickered, flinching when her eyes adjusted to the lights.
“I see that you’re doing better, Mme.Dupain-Cheng. And we need you to be doing better, to get better. After all, you have to live on for two now.”
“I, um, I beg your pardon?” Marinette asked, adjusting herself to sit up a bit, watching as the doctor looked at her in astonishment and then gracefully gave her a smile.
“I’m guessing you didn’t know, but that’s quite understandable, seeing as you are only two weeks in.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m still not-”
“You are pregnant Mme.Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette’s heart fell. “Congratulations.” 
———
It was finally done. 
Fuck Bruce. 
He was never going back. 
Dick felt like a weight in his shoulders were slightly lifted. 
There was no turning back. 
As Dick headed for the bakery where he knew Marinette still resided in, his heart came to a halt as his eyes laid on the girl he had left behind. 
She had changed. She was a bit more plump, glowing as she sat on the chair outside the bakery. Next to her, a man who he’d only see a few times. Luka, if he remembered correctly. 
But that wasn’t what had caused his heart to stop beating. It was her figure that had him to stop breathing. She was pregnant. But now the question that rose: whose was it? Who was the father of the child she was to bare?
It didn’t take long to figure it out because as soon as Dick locked eyes with Luka, he saw red in the other man’s eyes. One minute Dick was looking at an enraged Luka and the next he saw a fist, toppling backwards where his head met the floor.
“How dare you show your face around here after what you’ve done to Marinette!”
“What-” a grunt. “Are you-” a gag as he tasted blood. “Talking about?” But Dick got no response. Luka just keeps punching him, Dick letting him despite his brain telling him to defend himself. But his heart said otherwise. Something told him he deserved it.
“Luka! Stop it! Please!” Marinette’s voice cracked as she pleaded, Luka almost stopping instantly when he heard it. 
Dick swore that his heart stopped at how broken it sounded, how tired it had become. 
Was it all because of him?
“Mari, I-“
“Come inside.” Marinette said with a weak voice. “I don’t want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation. 
-
After getting fixed up, Marinette treating his last bruise, Dick finished what he came to tell her. 
The reason he broke up with her and didn’t contact her for months? One word: Kitten. 
She had decided to waltz back into his life, but this time being the new Killer Moth, something Bruce and Dick did not expect to hear after hearing of Drury’s death. 
While Bruce quickly adjusted to the new villain, Dick couldn’t. Because he knew what this meant.
She wanted him -hence her return- and this time, she came prepared.
She had more things to hold hostage against Dick - Gotham, Batman, Robin...and Marinette.
He needed to act quick, hasty decisions that led to successfully taking Kitten down. 
However, they also led to regrets.
He watched as Marinette dropped the bag of frozen peas, her eyes filling up with tears. 
“All of that, for a mission?”
“I know. It was stupid-“
“Stupid barely just scratches the surface.” She started, letting out a dry laugh. “It was downright idiotic!” Holding her hand to her head, she walked in a complete circle before facing him again.  “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why? Didn’t you trust me?”
“I do! I still do.”
“Sure didn’t seem like it.” Marinette scoffed. “Because if you did, you would’ve told me.”
“I could’ve never returned to you had the mission gone wrong.” Dick defended, attempting to reach out to her, only for Mari to catch his hand and shake her head. 
“I would’ve understood. I know the sacrifices a person must make to keep their loved ones protected.” She reminded him, Dick fully knowing she was referring to her days of being Ladybug.
“Kitten-” Dick started, only to get cut off. 
“Kitten would’ve faced my wrath if you didn’t come back to me.” Marinette said, then remembering about that clingy girl he once spoke of. “I would’ve done something to bring you back home.”
“I know. And that’s what I also feared.”
“Hmm?”
“I feared that if it did go wrong and you had to do something to get me back, and something happened to you as well...what does that say about me? Am I too weak to protect you? That I’m still not ready to have my own life and protect it?”
“What’s wrong in relying on others?”
“It often means bringing in more people for others to hold hostage.”
“Is that what your father taught you?” Marinette asked coldly, glaring at the bruise on Dick’s face. “Is that what you learned from fighting alongside Batman? Red Robin? Robin? Because if anything, they prove otherwise.”
“I just don’t-”
“Sometimes, you have to rely on others, lean on their shoulders.” Marinette reminded, cupping Richard’s face, gently pressing her forehead against his. “Just hide away your fears and ask for help. Talk to someone, just like you are with me.”
Dick didn’t know when he had placed his hands over hers nor when he got up to embrace her. He just knew that whatever stood between them no longer stood there. 
That she somehow washed away his fears.
“Thank you, Mari.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for doing that stunt on me.” Marinette said against his ear, a chill running down his spine.
“R-right.” 
------
The next months were spent with Dick picking up the responsibility he had never picked up.
He helped Marinette with her modeling, helped her deal with her clients, always at her beck and call each day.
He did the cleaning, the laundry and the cooking, not once letting Marinette lift a finger. 
Despite each day spent like an errand boy, Dick cherished each moment. 
Their morning greetings (which was a boop on the nose), their lunch dates, Dick watching Marinette hum and caress her stomach whenever she took a break, being by Mari’s side whenever she felt irritated, and the list went on. 
Those days became weeks, which in turn, became months. 
He didn’t remember when he had the guts to ask her to marry him, crying when she said yes.
The two moved into their own apartment - big enough for them and their bundle of joy. 
———
With each passing day, he longed for the moment he’d be able to meet their child, Dick often being the one to bring out lists of names to choose from. 
They’d talk about the nursery as they watched the city lights beam across their ceiling at night. 
They’d talk about the cribs and the onesies they have to buy. Which brand to choose and the stuffed animals to buy. 
As he’d run his hand through her midnight locks, they would speak of what family activities to do. 
Introduce them to Disney, take them to the beach, the amusement park. To Paris!
They’d let their fantasies run wild, fully knowing that money was the least of their problem. 
They just wanted the best for their child. 
Their future. 
———
And in the blink of an eye, they were there. 
———
“He’s so tiny.” Richard cooed, cradling his son in his arms, watching the tiny infant squirm in his blanket. He had a tuft of navy hair, a few strands seeping from his tiny hat.
It was still pretty early in the morning, the delivery being five in the morning and yet Richard still had energy to spare. Or maybe he knew it wasn’t fair to his wife who worked so hard to bring their bundle of joy to their lives.
“He is, meaning that there’s still space to carry another one.” Marinette hummed, Richard tilting his head.
“Another...one?” Marinette giggled as she watched the nurse roll in another makeshift crib into the room, watching as tears rolled down Richard’s face. “Mari… why didn’t you-”
“I made sure to keep it a secret.” Marinette watched as the nurse helped Richard balance the two children into his arms, ingraining the memory. “Only my parents knew about them. Oh! And Alfred too!” 
“She’s adorable,” was all Richard could whisper out as he looked at their children in his arms. 
“Thomas. Marie.” Marinette said, reaching out for her children, the nurse quickly going to Richard to get Thomas and then Marie. Richard wanted to pout upon having his children taken from him but he didn’t care. 
His heart melted as he watched the two infants snuggle closer to their mother, tiny smiles on their wrinkly faces. 
“I’ll always be watching over you. Always.” Marinette softly spoke, her smile getting bigger before it quivered. “I’m sorry.” 
What was she talking about? Sorry? About what?
“Richard.” Marinette spoke, even quieter this time, Dick noticing that her hold on the children was loosening, probably because she was tired. Without another word, he scooped the children into his arm, watching Marinette look at him with soft eyes. “Come closer.”
He did.
He watched as Marinette slowly lifted her hand to his cheek, caressing it as she smiled, unshed tears pooling in her eyes. 
“You know I’ve always loved you and I always will.”
“You tell me everyday my love.” Dick assured, leaning into her cold touch. “I love you too.”
“Please.” Marinette pleaded, a tear sliding down her pale face, her lips giving him a frail smile. “Promise me that you���ll take care of them.”
“Of course I will.” RIchard smiled, wanting to caress her cheek as well, instead, he settled for a forehead press. She was kinda cold. “I’ll take care of them alongside you.” Marinette shook her head.
“Only you will be able to take care of... them.” Marinette said, her voice cracking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” She whispered out, Richard finally piecing together her words.
“Mari. Mari, no. You...you can’t.” Richard set the children down into their respective cribs, hearing her monitor start to beep in alarm. “Mari, Mari! Mari please! Someone!”
He started to shout outside the door, shouting for someone to come and help him.
He shouted desperately, watching as no one came, the crying of his two children being his only solace. 
She died with a smile on her face. 
———
“It was all my fault! I should’ve never left her alone! I should've told her about the mission instead of leaving her out of the loop! If I had simply-“
“Dick, you didn’t know.” Kor’i softly said, never noticing when the twins had gotten to the living room, watching as their father broke down. “None of us knew, but her.”
“Mari, is Mari okay? Tell me Kor’i! Is Marinette going to be alright?” Dick asked, clinging onto Kor’i. 
This...this was the first time the twins had ever heard their mother’s name out of their father’s mouth. It was always ‘Mom,’ ‘Mother,’ Nettie’. It was never Marinette. 
“Richard. She’s alright.” Kor’i hushed, watching as Dick let out shuddering breaths. “The children are okay as well.” 
Thomas and Marie watched as their father visibly calmed down, watching Kor’i give him a soft smile. 
“So she’s okay? She’s not…” he trailed off, looking at Kor’i with glossy eyes. When he saw Kor’i nod, let out a sigh before he collapsed to his side, the cushions allowing him to drift off to sleep. 
Thomas and Marie attempted to go over to their father, but didn’t when Kor’i prevented them from getting any closer. 
“Does...does- is this new?” Marie asked, watching her father in deep sleep, tears staining the pillow underneath him. “Was this-“
“He doesn’t have them that often anymore, they used to be much worse. And as much as I want to say no, I can’t do that. So yes, perhaps the sudden situation that caused him to confess his feelings may have triggered this one.” Kor’i responded despite not wanting to confirm Marie’s suspicions. 
“Will he be alright?” Thomas then asked, holding onto Marie’s hand that trembled in guilt. 
“He’s going to be alright. I assure you that much.” Thomas and Marie watched as Kor’i draped a blanket over him, wondering what awaited them.
The two walked out the living room, walking into the kitchen, a sob escaping Marie. 
“Come on Marie. You can’t just-“
“What if it’s our fault Mom isn’t here?” Marie cut her brother off. “What if we’re the reason-“ She flinched when Thomas slammed his hands on the kitchen counter. 
“Don’t you dare say that!” Thomas grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her a bit. “Don’t you dare mock Mom’s feelings like that! If we’re here while she isn’t, then she wanted us to live! And because we’re living, we can’t just just take her decision for granted!” 
“I know, but-“ Marie bit her lip. “How did we just believe Dad wasn’t still suffering from her death? Why didn’t we notice it? Why didn’t he say anything? We’re his children. He should’ve said something. We could’ve helped.”
Thomas frowned, watching as his sister silently cried. 
He hated to say this, but she was right. 
He could’ve told them what he was going through. He could’ve leaned on them… then again, who was he to judge him for that?
He never spoke of his fights with his father, so what right did he have for demanding him to tell them about his problems?
Now that he thought about, why did he never speak of the fights? 
Was it his shame? His guilt? 
No. 
Thomas knew why he never spoke of the fights. 
It was his pride. 
They called him motherless, a bastard when they saw him argue with his father once and when they learned that Kor’i was his father’s ‘current’ wife was someone from Tamaran, they called him a Torq. 
Torq. 
Insignificant. A nobody. That nothing good would ever come from a motherless rebel like him. 
Thomas hit the side of his fist against the wall, a book hitting his head and falling to the floor. 
Why did he choose the side of the kitchen where all the cookbooks were at?
Rubbing his aching bruise, Thomas went to pick it up, eyes widening when he saw the name on the opened front page. 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
Marie rushes over the moment she hears the name, slightly pushing her brother to get a better view of the book. 
They flipped the page, confused to see writing on it. 
“They’re recipes.” Marie pointed out, looking at the fruit tart recipe on the page they were currently looking at. 
“Mom wrote all of these.” Thomas stated the obvious, running his hand across the neatly written instructions. The regular instructions were in black, side notes and suggestions in red and pink respectively. 
He also couldn’t help but notice a ladybug theme on the book. 
Did she like ladybugs?
“In case Dick has another nightmare or breakdown.” Marie read out loud, Thomas looking to where he was reading.
“An herbal tea?”
“Do you think...it will work?”
“We can give it a try.”
“Let’s do it then!” Marie said with a smile. “Let’s make Dad feel better!”
I know you two can do it! Good luck!
———
“It happened again, didn’t it?” Dick asked, looking down at his trembling hands. 
It wasn’t even a complete ten minutes before he woke up. His body was sore and his throat parched. Another one, huh? “And I’m front of-“
“They were going to find out eventually.” Kor’i said softly, amazed that it took 16 whole years for them to find out. While babies didn’t fully understand breakdowns, they can absolutely feel them. “And what better time than now.”
“But they shouldn’t have to deal with-“
“They are not dealing with anything. Instead, they are learning more about you. Getting to finally know about their father.”
“Their pathetic poor-excuse-of-a-father.” Dick huffed, placing his head into his hands. “Can’t even get over-“
“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Kor’i gritted, cupping Dick’s face to make him look at her. “Don’t you dare say that death should be easy to get over. Because it’s not. And never will. Only time can heal it. And we both know that.”
“All too well.” Dick added, placing his head on her shoulder. “Sorry for saying that.”
“It’s alright.” 
“Dad.” “Dad.” They heard their kids say simultaneously, noticing that Thomas had a tray in his hand. 
“What’s that you got there?” Dick attempted to say with a chirp, causing everyone to resist showing a frown. 
“It’s a tea recipe we found.” Thomas started. 
“We decided to make it after finding it in Mom’s recipe book.”
They watched as their father’s eyes grew large. 
“Mari’s...cookbook. It thought it was lost in the move from long ago.” Dick whispered as he took the cup of tea, the aroma of ginger and cinnamon bringing back old memories. “It smells just like the tea she used to make.”
Marie and Thomas watched as their father took a sip from it, wondering if it tastes the same as Mom’s. 
“Does...does it taste...good?” Marie asked after a long moment of awkward silence. 
“It almost tastes exactly like hers. Of course, there’s still something missing-“ Marie’s hiccups, Dick quickly getting up to console her, setting down his cup. “Mari, the tea-“
“I’m glad you liked it. I thought you wouldn’t.” Marie sobbed, wiping away her tears. “We tried to figure out what the last ingredient was but after testing out different things, nothing seemed to be it.” 
“Whatever Mom meant by ‘tears of true love,’ we weren’t able to crack it.” Thomas clarifies, placing the empty tray onto the coffee table. “But I guess it was still a success if you said it tastes similar to Mom’s.”
Dick smiled, pulling Thomas close to him. 
“Seems like the two of you have your mother’s gift of creation.” Dick felt Kor’i join in on the hug. “She’d be really proud of the two of you. Without a doubt.” 
He wiped away a tear that dared to slip, flicking it away. 
He never realized the soft pink glow that emitted from the tea when the tear flew into it. 
The tear of true love...in the shape of a healing family. 
198 notes · View notes
the-acid-pear · 3 years
Text
Okay I'm going to judge all my ocs over how OBJECTIVELY attractive they are.
Main Ocs:
Luluco: As hot as i am IRL, i don't think Luluco would count as particularly attractive. Mostly because of the amount of body horror they have going on.
Bloody: AS MUCH AS IT PAINS ME TO SAY THIS, i don't think Bloody would be particularly attractive to the average person!! 😭 Like she's a huge milf yeah but she's really skinny and really pale and has a weird fashion sense so :/
Shira: Shira is probably one of the hottest of my ocs. She's tall, curvy, has good fashion sense, pretty long hair... She's just really attractive.
Sheina: Face wise? In universe and probably irl not very attractive, I'm once again remaking her scars but they are simply pretty nasty. Body wise, she has a very attractive body, big booba, low-key ripped, probably big ass too even.
Takochu: The other one of my main ocs who's the most objectively attractive. Takochu has a nice figure, cares about her image, wears very cute clothes, has pretty hair, and even with the eyepatch she can make it look hot. Takochu is the best.
Juan: This motherfucker ugly af. He is basically destroyed, he hasn't slept in a long time, he barley eats anything, and doesn't have enough mental energy to care about be wears. He was average to attractive when younger at least.
Lola: I think Lola is mildly attractive. She's young she has freckles, pretty hair... Nah, she's really attractive.
Raúl: Just like Lola, mildly to highly attractive. He cares about his looks, has nice hair, and is mildly built, so objectively speaking, hot!
Secondary Ocs:
Dasha: I feel like Dasha would be mildly attractive. Her appearance is nice, good hair normal fashion, also big booba and defined arms under her big sweaters.
Shanlier: She's both attractive but not really. She's one of those so called BIMBOS, have you heard of them? Queen has a nice body but would walk out the shower naked without realizing why that's bad, plus hasn't brushed her hair in a long time.
Sonae: God i swear Sonae isn't as ugly as she looks in her icon i need to do her justice bro 😭😭
Nomi: She's average, nothing too attractive about her, but she isn't ugly.
Thomas: I mean even if you found insane twinks hot, he's in a similar page as Juan, probably more scars but less chronic pain, Thomas is too weird to be considered attractive.
Ace: OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING.... Ace is pretty cute, like they care for their appearence and sometimes wear pretty clothes plus look at their face and their hair i just ;_; they murderous baby :/
Shenlly: She is kinda average. I think she's hot but she doesn't have any big things going on about her, she's just a lady.
Cash: Hot, pretty attractive. He's literally a Bad Boy™, have you seen his hair? He probably wears a jean jacket and a white tee. This guy is also definitely buff. Cash is hot.
John: Mildly attractive, he's a pretty boy with clear skin and long hair. Not a big deal but he did have a gf tbf
Zella: Or Zelda it depends on my humor. Hhhhh she's a complicated case. I mean, objectively? Her face is kinda weird man. Like let's be fair here she is from the sims 3. I think she would qualify as attractive.
Rose and Alyssa: Both attractive, you can pick and choose based on aesthetic lol.
Rhys: Rhys is pretty average, there wasn't anything particularly attractive about him, really.
Penumbra: I know some of you guys would say the literal shadow is hot, but this is a objective rating so no, not attractive.
Rob: I need to shave his beard, that aside, he is probably mildly attractive, he's a tall buff (perhaps the most of my Ocs) bald guy with dark sunglasses. He's pretty cool, pretty attractive.
Tracy: Objectively? Not really attractive. Not because she's particularly ugly, i mean, she doesn't have any "ugly" features, other than perhaps a messy style. I will let you guys decide lol.
Elizabeth: LOL RICH KID!! Attractive.
Max: Objectively not attractive and she does not desire to change it. She prefers to keep it that way.
Randoms:
Personbug: They are actually pretty average, perhaps mildly unattractive if you think bad of eyepatchs, but it's not like they focus much on their outfits.
Bo: ...i don't know what to tell you.
Chad: He's attractive. He simply is. "Oh but he's f-" shut up. Leave. Chad is so fucking hot.
Donovan: He's a zombie, he has a free pass to being unattractive.
Dikx: I'm honestly not sure. Perhaps average, they don't have much going on. The body it's just that, a small body.
Matias: Average to attractive, he's just a twink.
Mateo: I'm sorry monsterfuckers but he's objectively NOT attractive.
Stardew Valley:
Mila: Attractive. She has a Russian accent. Do i need to say more? Well, i do, because on top of that she's buff. And she wears pretty bows and has a red lipstick. Hot girl.
Mora: Mildly attractive. She's pretty cute, hair is long and soft, but that's it.
Leon: Attractive, he's a hunk /hj, also cute pastel color fashion, that IS cute.
Genesis: Mildly attractive? His tits are huge, cool hair, dark glasses...
Damon: Complicated, because face wise i believe he is attractive, plus he's tall and has muscle definition. Problem is their fashion sense, but since they do change often, attractive.
Vinyl: Her character is still a sort of a big wip, but i think she's attractive too, she's Damon's twin after all.
Among us:
Usculbaba: Objectively unattractive. I mean, look at him. He's argentinian a mess. Only wears old band tshirts, hasn't washed his teeth in a long while, barely ever sleeps, his beard is a mess.
TransRight: Attractive. She's pretty cute, $100 smile too.
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firedawnd · 4 years
Text
Love For Them (AKA, a study of Ace!Katherine)
Katherine Howard does not know love: not at first.
Not until he came. Not until he, broad-shouldered, bearded, creased face, the spitting image of alluring maturity entered her life.
Wordcount: 7366. 
Series Link: Don’t.
AO3 Link: Love For Them.
(Yes, it’s finally here!!)
Heavy trigger warnings for r*pe, corrective r*pe, gaslighting, acephobia (external & internalised), grooming, internalised self-blame. No heavily explicit r*pe is shown but it is alluded to, implied, and in imagery.
Katherine Howard does not know love: not at first.
Not until he came. Not until he, broad-shouldered, bearded, creased face, the spitting image of alluring maturity entered her life. 
Some have gushed about Mannox’s allure. He was… broad and dark. Desirable was the words which she had overheard some of their maids say. 
And he wants her.
(Who was she to refuse?) 
And so Katherine stares. Up at her music teacher. Of a gigantic stature; so much taller, stronger, wider than her was he. And that’s part of the allure, she’s sure, but she’s also sure that he can crush her in her fingers, leave her in only little pieces, mingling between ashes and dust amid piano keys. 
He looks back at her. You can stop, Katherine. I see how you stare at me. 
She flushes, then. She gazes up at him. Tall and glowering and imposing. A knowing smirk presses by his lips. 
How… do I stare? 
His eyes turn dark then. Don’t pretend you don’t know. 
And she doesn’t know, she doesn’t, not really. All she knows is what the maids relay to her through bated whispers. He is captivating. Have you seen him? Dark. Mysterious. How breathtaking. I want him to make me his. 
Mannox reaches for her hair. He combs his fingers through the ends. She lets him. 
I’ll show you how you’re supposed to feel. 
And she loves him. How could she not? He is… striking. That is what they say about him. He is… brooding. He is handsome. Desirable. 
He fondles— he’s fond of her. And of course, she was never a fan of the sensation, but that was normal. Nobody liked it; not at first. You were to get used to it. 
And Katherine is patient. She can wait. 
.
Dereham is the next person they speak about. 
How charming is he! So enchanting… so handsome… and so intelligent. Always so astute, so cultured and scholarly: one would think him a nobleman. I hear he is well-endowed… and oh, his virility… 
Katherine knows of Dereham’s virility well. He enters the girls’ bedchambers at night. He and the other men. Their eyes prowl, like they are pickings at a market. 
(Katherine always curls up in her bed, underneath the sheets, as if she isn’t there. She is not asleep. She knows better than to pretend to be asleep. But she curls herself up, as if, with enough time, they would not see her there anymore.)
And she catches his eye because she is independent.
That is what he says she is. That first night: when his footfalls pause by the end of her bed, and Katherine had refused to meet his eyes. She did not manage to curl within the safety of her bedsheets in time, and so she had stayed, there: eyes cast to the side, averting away from the bodies that mangle the beds and the screeches that interpolate the air. 
Look at me.
She looks. 
You don’t want me?
And she gazes.
He is tall. He has a strong jaw. A muscular chest. A symmetrical face. A powerful gait. Sculpted, is how they would describe him.
(So enchanting… so handsome… so intelligent. And he wants you . Do you really not want him ? Would you really refuse Dereham? Dereham?)
A breath catches in her throat . Because—who is she to say no? 
But Dereham shakes his head before she can speak. He lets out a laugh. A husky laugh. One that speaks to pride and promises once he reaches out to her face. Tilts her chin down with his thumb and makes her meet his face. She lets him. 
I’ll prove myself worthy of you.
He gives her 100 pounds. It is yours if I do not return from my voyage. And he leaves her with the sum of his fortune, and Katherine’s stomach is sick with responsibility, for she is merely fourteen, and she had not known him until months prior. What makes him trust her so?
He loves you so. 
He reprieves himself from sexual duty. I will be celibate for you, my love. My eyes belong to you. And he presses a kiss to her knuckles, and the roughness of his lips do not leave her skin until days after. 
The other girls jostle her. Stare at her. Scowl at her. Jealousy mingling in their eyes. Desire rupturing through their words. 
You didn’t have to take Dereham away from us! Not the most… well-endowed man of the home. And they share giggles, and they nudge one another, and they laugh, and Katherine listens to their glee. 
Do not tell me that you do not want him. Do not. 
Katherine, you might as well let him have you. Maybe then he’ll have us too. 
Is it not obvious that he wants you, Katherine? And he is trying so hard for your love, too—he wants you! Don’t be a tease. Give him what he desires. 
And he returns from his voyage. She is there, at her bed. He approaches her. She does not meet his eyes. But the indignance is too present in his voice already. 
Do you not love me still? I have done everything for you. Do you still seek to keep your independent pretence, Katherine? Or will you allow me to love you? 
Her throat is sticky and sore. And she looks up to Francis Dereham. 
He is even more masculine, upon his return. Muscles jut from his arms. As if he had been at work. Exuding an odour which is reminiscent of the sea. So much more sculpted. 
Katherine, don’t tell us that you don’t love him. He is so handsome… have you seen his body ? And not to mention his charm! If you reject him… I am sorry, but your taste must be atrocious.
There is a plea in Katherine’s eyes. She flicks her gaze away from him. But it does not stop her from seeing a smirk writhe its way across Dereham’s lips.
He grabs her by the chin. Roughly, now. 
Of course you love me.
Dereham reaches for her lips. He kisses her. His fingers tousle her hair. He combs his fingers through the ends. She lets him. 
(Katherine had never wished for anything more different, then.)
.
“You desire him, do you not?”
Katherine flushes once again. She carefully turns her eyes away from Joan’s eyes. “He is… enthralling, of course.”
And she’s under Joan’s scrutiny. Katherine presses her fingers into her dress and tries not to squirm. Because she could see, couldn’t she? That Katherine saw him as majestic, as intense, as impressive, yet not… 
“You want him, do you not?”
She nods. Vigorously. Twice—thrice—that should be enough to emphasise. 
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, of course I do!”
For who was she? Some fool? Who cannot love Mannox? Who cannot love Dereham? Who cannot admire their... sculpted beauty? Who cannot love their bodies?
(She kisses Dereham more vigorously, that night. He does all he wishes to her and she lets him. She screws her eyes shut and forces herself to relax. For she loves him. For she desires him. She is not a monster. Who can love and cannot desire at the same time?) 
.
And then she is raised up-high into the Royal Court. She is the Queen's lady-in-waiting. Anna’s lady-in-waiting. A marriage arranged by the ever-intelligent Cromwell. The German Queen, about to be wed to England’s most… fitting suitor. 
They meet in the golden hours of the morning, at first. Katherine courtesies, but Anna waves her off: That is not necessary. And she is bewildered, at first, but soon her lips morph into a slight, not quite, smile. 
Oh, she enjoys it so. She has a purpose, a reason, here. She is to serve the Queen. And Anna talks to Katherine, and she does her best to fulfill her wishes. 
(At first, at least. Before their conversations had evolved elsewhere; beginning when Katherine had accidentally intruded upon Anna’s chambers and found her with tears glimmering by her eyes, gazing out into the muted England beneath her window. And she should have apologised profusely, and retreated, but words, unbidden, had slipped from her lips: my Queen, if I may ought to know… what is troubling you? )
(And Anna talks to her about home, about missing it all, about how much she despises Henry, how she wishes she weren’t here. Katherine’s heart wrenches, because even if she had never come from a foreign country to marry some man. She understands. Compromise. She understands. Obligation. She understands. Desire.)
They’d spend hours away in aimless chatter, since then. And every time she is not with Anna, Katherine finds an aching void in her heart, waiting, wanting to be reunited with her friend’s company. 
Of course, she has the other ladies-in-waiting. They are amiable. Their company is amicable. As it should be, really. But Katherine cannot help but feel disassociated, from the conversation they make. 
“... was none a man so stark and strong, of strength that ever came near! None a man so fair under God. He, the most bold, the most knightly, with the appetite, I hearsay, of a voracious beast…” 
And she sees that, yes, he was a knight, he was strong, and yet…. 
Voracious? Beast? 
“Katherine? What about you? What do you think of Thomas Culpepper?”
Her eyes snap up.
“I don’t know,” she replies, half a struggling smile parting her lips. “He is a… fair man.”
And she means it, in that sense. He is fair, of a fair proportion, a healthy man of his stature, and tall, too—that would be appealing. His facial features are even, smooth, and defined.  Broad shoulders. Decently muscular. Tall. That perfect image of nobility. A peer. 
He sets my loins on fire, one of the ladies-in-waiting says. And Katherine’s brow furrows. Of course, he was fair. And yet… loins…? 
Katherine brushes the thought off with a chuckle. “Seems we may have to try and bring Lady Margaret and Lord Culpepper together, then.” 
But by the end of the day, when it is merely her, and Anna, alone. They are quiet together. And Katherine always feels better, when they are together. When they talk, together. And perhaps their company is aimless, but Katherine is content, and so is Anna. 
And one day when they are alone and together at night at the palace. Katherine tilts her head at Anna. Teach me how to dance, she whispers to her. My teachers had always found me unteachable. They said, and it was with a giggle that she kept within the confines of her throat, that I was unruly. Unfocused. Diffuse. 
You would not learn much from me, then, Anna says, her lips curled in jest. 
She feels something play by her mouth. She meets Anna’s eyes again, tilts her head. I would pay attention to the Queen.
Anna laughs. Take my hand, then. 
They dance. And it is so quiet, then. Katherine isn’t sure what she was expecting. But Anna’s hand is soft, and her arms on Katherine’s shoulders are not invasive. What they do, is just that, as Katherine’s asked: they dance. 
And sometimes, when it is only just them there in Court, Anna asks for Katherine’s hand. And Katherine fancies herself in a ballroom dance; in Hampton Court, maybe, or Richmond, during festivities: on St. Valentine’s day, perhaps. 
It is there where they dance. In the centre of the room, next to nobilities and courtiers, yet they are too far away to touch. Where music ebbs by and invigorates the air in currents and flows. 
They sway, to nothing at all. 
(And sometimes, when Katherine gazes into Anna’s passionate eyes, her unrepentant fervour, her vigour and her smile , her heart flutters, ever so slightly.) 
Yet it is so transient, like a flickering firefly to the ever-tenebrous night. 
(And when she is raised Queen. It is as if that feeling were never there at all.)
.
And she is raised Queen, and she stands, in the hallways, next to Anna. Katherine is not Queen, not yet: it is not her coronation, yet, not yet in July. Yet Anna is no longer Queen, annulled, was what she had overheard from the courtiers. 
It has been a while since they had spoken. 
“You don’t need to marry him,” Katherine says to Anna, finally. A sad smile lifts her lips.
Anna’s jaw is set. There is a storm of emotion, Katherine knows, that is concentrated on her face. But it is kept under trellises and stone. 
“Not at your expense.”
“I know,” Katherine says, quietly. She looks away from her eyes. “But I am truly happy for you. Anna.”
Anna shakes her head. It is like there is something she is about to say. But she leaves it. And Katherine meets, reads, her eyes.
I am not. Not for you.
And she does not understand why her heart aches so, not really. When, later, she turns her gaze away from Anna to Henry. She only understands that she aches.
(That word, Katherine would later come to understand, is saudade. Where the pit in her stomach. Tells her of what meets her in the future. Where her glimmering eyes. Brim, involuntarily, for they would not see each other again. Not truly.)
(Where she longs. For a time when Katherine were simply a lady-in-waiting, and Anna simply the Queen. For their conversations, for their dances, for their entwined hands, for their boundless laughter. For her firefly heart.)
(Katherine knows she cannot long. Not for long. And yet.)  
.
Henry is repulsive.
And that is a shared sentiment. Anna shares it, with a scowl, contemptuous, from the day she had landed on England and beyond. Katherine’s own ladies-in-waiting share it, with a flitting laugh. She takes comfort in it. Good, she thinks, relief in her mind. I’m not… I’m not wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me. 
But as her ladies-in-waiting make idle talk about Henry’s less-than-desirable state, they also make talk, other talk : Have you seen that courtier today? God above, he is gorgeous. Dudley, was that his name? He stirs in me a hot flame under my skin. What is with the nobility? What they can render me… 
She is not even safe from that talk in the Royal Court. For, despite how much they are the King’s royal servants, appointed to serve, she still hears the courtiers speak. 
…. who else finds your fancy, my lords? 
I say she. How dainty, how delicate is she? Truly a fine, full, comely creature. So sensual in her beauty. So nubile in her fertility. How much I desire her… 
They continue. And although they are not speaking of her. Katherine cannot help but feel isolated from them all. 
Loneliness encroaches her. It delves down her skin, swathes across her limbs, until she is huddling and shivering and so cold. Loneliness makes her enclose herself, as their obstreperous conversations seep in her ears and she suppresses her repine. Loneliness is nighttime, when her ladies-in-waiting have dispelled and it is only she and him trapped in darkness.
And he parts her legs every night and she struggles and gasps and she quells herself.
No. She is supposed to enjoy this. 
And she squashes the anxiety percolating through her skin. Even as he makes her lay on the bed and he crawls above her. A beast imposing. Panting. Wanting.
She looks away. She pretends that the windows are windows and not trellises that grip stone like she is in the Tower itself. She forces her eyes to the moonlit night and thinks of her virginity, thinks of her duty. 
Henry reaches for her cheeks. He smashes her mouth against his. His breath is hot and his odour is heavy. His fingers wrangle through her hair, desperate, seeking, he wants her, he wants her, he wants everything of her. 
And she is an orb, crushed between the weight of his grasp.
She lets him do it. She lets him touch her. And she lets him and she shudders with breaths that he thinks is pleasure. She lets him assume.
(And it is better, when dawn murks through the whole of England, and he gets off her, brushes himself off, makes his way towards his kingly duties. But gloom settles all the same, when it is night. And Katherine bites down a wince every single time his eyes go feverish with desire.) 
.
It is then when she meets Thomas Culpepper. 
She does not know what to think when she first sees him. For he was all-too reminiscent of those courtiers, the ones that would leer at ladies when they pass by. 
But he is not. 
He is kind, and he is all she needs, really. A confidant, a friend. And her heart is elated, for he does not comment upon any lady’s looks, nor does he ask her whether any man catches her eyes. 
He guides the conversation. Of court affairs, of England and the world, of nature and birds. Sometimes, it enters into more personal areas: of her home life, of her time with Anna, of life with the King. But she is comfortable. 
(And there is something that stays in her stomach. A certain gratitude. For she does not need to fear, when she is with Culpepper. She is no longer isolated, when she is with him. He is her companion. Her friend.)
(And some days, she allows herself to think that, perhaps, he is like her. He is disinterested in… the carnal calls of flesh, too. And Katherine knows that there is still something wrong in her, for she is supposed to love , she can’t not , but then, at least, she is not the only one.) 
Until his hands snake across her waist and she feels the unbidden press of his cold fingers upon her skin. Until she had looked up at him, a question in her eyes. And panic resounds her insides. 
Never have I seen a sultrier woman than you, Katherine Howard… 
(And if she’s being honest to herself… it isn’t the first time. His fingers had always lingered a moment too long, on her hands, as he’d helped her off her horse. And his hands had caressed her cheeks, had slunk down her neck, despite how she shrugs away from her touch.) 
His hands, like spiders creeping upon their prey, a foreboding madness latent in his grasp. Slinging his arm over her shoulders. Upon her back. Upon her stomach. On her ass. 
But she wanted to pretend. She wanted a friend. Why couldn’t she— why couldn’t he—why couldn’t any of them—
And he’s boring into her, his eyes, and they are sharp-cold-curious, anger quivers in his blood-red mouth, and—
Do you not want me?
Katherine looks into his eyes. Into his glinting eyes and his fair face and his heaving chest and his chivalric pretence. 
She shakes her head. The no is muted under her breath. Fractured by her heartbreak. 
I thought—I thought you were just—I thought you didn’t want —
Katherine, he scowls. Exasperation on his lips. This is ridiculous. Do you not know love? Do you not know want, do you not know desire? Such a fair creature like you cannot not want.
She freezes. 
(Does she not know love? She is supposed to. That is the ultimate union: of man and woman, tangled in love, tangled in flesh. That is God’s gift: love in sensuality, love in physicality, love in creation, the fostering of a child of perfect likeness.) 
(She… can’t not love. That is… unholy. She should have at least reciprocated Mannox’s affections of her bodily frame. She’s supposed to relish in Dereham’s body, after he had loved her so. She’s ordained to love Henry, by God, for she’s the Queen, that is what she is supposed to be. Yet she can barely contain a scream when he is with her at night. She’s supposed to love Culpepper. The courtier admired by all the ladies-in-waiting, the courtier so handsome that it would be incomprehensible to reject him. That’s what she’s supposed to feel, especially after all that time of companionship, of courting, is that not?) 
(But she doesn’t, and it is sinful, it is. Who has heard of a wife that physically cannot bring herself to love her husband? And not just that—but unable to take pleasures in the joys of flesh, unable to reconcile with the sight of unclad bodies? Disinterested in skin, in sensuality, in intimate connection?)
(There’s something gravely wrong with her. Something so fundamentally broken in her. And she is immoral for her relationships, she is false for her pretending, she is reprehensible. Was this punishment? Why can’t she feel?)
Her breaths go erratic. She hopes Culpepper does not see her freeze. 
Culpepper’s eyes narrow. And his voice is low, she is uncomfortable, but she fixes her eyes ahead, still, forces herself to still.
Katherine. You are not frigid, are you? Do you not want anyone?
She swallows. His eyes go dark. 
No matter. I'll make you love me. 
I will redeem you. 
I will save you. 
(I’ll fix you.)
Culpepper reaches for her body. He rakes his fingers down her back. He grabs her hair and pulls so hard it sears her scalp. He roams over her chest thigh hips —
She sobs. She hurts. 
She hates him. 
She lets him. 
.
And Henry discovers then, and she is dead, of course, and yet an irrevocable laugh sears her throat. And it is almost a choke, for, oh. 
If it is not doing what she loves best.  
.
Anna brings her to the others, after she returns to life again. 
(They separate, after their hug. And Katherine keeps to herself, for her skin still feels tender, so delicate, so much like a newborn’s and she clutches to it, for she does not quite believe that she is here. Hisses from ghosts linger amid her breaths, and electric static runs through her heart.)
Perhaps that is why her first meeting with the Queens does not turn out to be the… best. 
“Welcome!”
It’s like a dozen voices chorus at once, and Katherine cringes, because the noise, the chaos, the flurry is almost overwhelming. And then there is chatter, and then there are faces, then there are hands on her… 
She flinches. His fingers drag through her hair. His words lurk by her ear. I love you, don’t you love me, don’t you like my touch, touch, touch… 
“Don’t touch me.” Katherine snaps.
They all jolt away, immediately, at once. And the sensation disappears, just as fast as they come. She quells the tremble in her hands. Knots her knuckles into her dress and forces them to stop. 
Katherine lets out a breath. Maybe someone says something: through the groggy murk that is by her ears, somebody probably does. But she steels her breaths. 
“I’m sorry,” she says, a bare whisper in her throat. 
“Don’t apologise,” says a voice. Katherine lifts her head to meet Anna’s eyes. They’re glinting. “I am glad we have you back, Katherine.”
She stifles the sob. She lets a soft smile rest by her lips. She looks around, and sees the rest, looking back at her. Some faces are kind; some are with concern; some are with half, not quite, smiles. All without judgement. 
She says, “I’m glad to be here, too.”
.
The adjustment, at first, is not… easy.
Especially not when she is living with five other Queens, the only thing in common is their mutual ex-husband, and too much unresolved tension, unresolved drama to behold.
Katherine would not have minded. Not before. She was, after all, in a factious Court, one which its favour swayed between the Howards and their enemies. 
But this was a different sort of drama. This was Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon at one another’s throats; and when it was not that then it would be Boleyn against Parr, over Elizabeth; this was Jane Seymour attempting to quell the nonsense which did not help matters anyhow. 
Perhaps she should have stayed at Anna’s home. At least she would be able to have some sort of peace and quiet, then. 
But what the other Queens do have is boundaries. What they have is respect. For they have endured the same man together in their old lives. 
(She doesn’t let any of them touch her. Not so soon; not yet. Her skin is tender, and her wounds sink deep. Listless dreams made of men pervade her head. No: she does not need touch, now.)
They respect her. They don’t ask.
And that is all she can ask for. She is glad. 
(And Katherine later learns that what they have is mutability, too. Arguments resolve; apologies are made; pasts are put in the past. And while resentments remain, they dissipate, with compromise, with understanding. And that, perhaps, is as good as they can achieve.)
.
Slowly. Katherine gets better. 
It is not long, then, after. After she’d broken down about her past. That their guards crash into sand. That pity suffuses their eyes. She knows she cannot get away from it. And Katherine resents it, really. But there is another emotion, too, that twines in her stomach, for being…. cared about. 
They teach her. And Katherine learns. Of her past. Of her life.
(And one day, when she feels ready enough, her fingers stray to the handle of the opaque bookshelf. Katherine grips the book of survivors that Jane had brought her. She inhales a quiet breath, and begins to read.)
She does not tell them everything. She cannot. But they see the shame that flushes her face. They see the pain that wrenches her eyes. They see her huddle in on herself, they see her tuck her head between her legs, they see her quench her quiet sobs. 
Those men were wrong. They took advantage of her. They molded her, shaped her, groomed her. They gaslit her. And, of course, she would not desire them. She was a mere child back then. That is what the other Queens comfort her with.
No , she says, shakes her head. You don’t understand. I… I know it’s wrong, but they… weren’t entirely wrong. Culpepper was… trying to help. And Katherine averts their aghast eyes, extricates the next words from her throat. 
It is not just… that. I’m wrong. 
Disbelief echoes in Parr’s eyes. Confusion’s in Aragon’s. Pain’s in Jane’s. Anger’s in Anne’s. 
Why? 
Yet every time she tries to speak, she cannot convey what she means. And so Katherine shrugs, lets out a small sigh, and smiles. Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve mentioned it. Just pretend I didn’t say anything. Never mind. 
And she leaves, despite the calls in protest behind.
(She goes to her room, those times, then. Shuts the door. Curls in on herself. And prevents all thought from conspiring in her mind.)
.
But after those times. There is always Anna, who checks upon her. Who knocks on her door. Who asks if there is anything Katherine wants. Who takes her leave, if Katherine does not speak. 
(And there is no question, no judgement, no anything in her eyes. Those days when Katherine opens her door for Anna. Anna simply lets Katherine talk, and their chatter is idle, as aimless as before. But it is like before, and that is a safety blanket that environs her, a feeling that she had not known she needed, not until they were reborn and present and here. )
And sometimes, if Katherine was brave enough, she would tilt her head, look up to Anna’s eyes, exhale a breath. Anna. Would you like to dance?
(And there is a certain feeling that stirs in her gut, when she takes Anna’s hand, when they take their positions in Katherine’s bedroom, when she closes her eyes and finds herself in an empty ballroom.)
(Fireflies. She thinks. It has been a while.)
.
They’re in a circle, playing a game. Katherine isn’t sure what’s brought this on, exactly, but her overenthusiastic cousin had dragged them all into a so-called Game Night and so. Here they are. 
“… yes, that’s my choice on who to bed, shut up, Anne. That leaves me to marry Beckham. And I think beheading Henry is a no brainer.”
Anne’s eyes, tinged with mischievousness, light up at the last one. “I like your taste!” she exclaims. “Is that some revenge for me?”
Parr rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Anne. Of course it is.”
Aragon scoffs at the sight, though her amusement’s evident in her eyes. Jane doesn’t even try to hide her amusement. Katherine watches Anne nuzzle into Parr’s shoulder. And, unbidden, a slight smile twinges her lips, too.
Anne must catch her stare because she extricates herself from Parr, and Katherine raises an eyebrow at the cunning smile wreathed upon her cousin’s face.
“It’s your turn, Katherine! Wed, bed, behead.”
From beside Katherine, Anna rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you just say fuck, marry, kill, like everyone else?”
“Shut up, Anna! It’s funnier this way.”
Anne rats off a few names. Their faces float somewhere in the back of Katherine’s mind. And she feels unease creep up her neck. She hasn’t really thought about what this game entails, until, well… 
“... so, what do you think? What’s your verdict? And c’mon, Kat, don’t tell me that you don’t know. You’ve got to have a preference!”
Their faces are distinct, but distilled. And Katherine tries to make them clearer, for clarity in her mind. But even as she does, and even as the other Queens clamour, they’re the one with the abs to die for, he’s the one that’s a straight-up hunk, she’s the one that’s so freaking hot… 
Katherine stares. 
“I…”
Their words do not help her decide. And she knows there is a correct answer, knows there is a consensus that everybody agrees upon. Yet finding that out is another guessing-game in itself, like attempting to pry a sight from a stone vice. 
“Oh, come on, he’s so sexy. Total smash?”
“She’s so hot? Like… so fit? Don’t tell me you don’t see that, Katherine!”
“Oh, come on! You can’t kill him! ”
“I—I don’t know,” she says, flushes. Panic spikes in her stomach, and she wants to leave, yet she feels so trapped, here. Because it’s like she’s back in Court again—amid the ladies-in-waiting, amid the courtiers and the noblemen, listening but not there, feeling a little colder the more the words exited their lips, a basilisk curling in her stomach… 
Not because she truly doesn’t know. She knows, she does. There are men who are the definition of a knight, and women a definition of a fair maiden. There are people that are sculpted like Greek gods. There are people that she could watch, entranced, in minutes: for they were like nature embodied. 
But she doesn’t know by their measure. 
(Her measure is this, which she had used back in Court, whenever she had to participate in such discourse. Facial evenness. Body shape. Whether they wore short cloth or studded tunics. Yet, and this is when Katherine realises, yet they mean as much to her as a grain of salt does.)
They’re staring at her expectantly. She knows she’s supposed to say something. And it’s easy, really; her words slipped from her like water in the Royal Court. He is ravishing; so fanciable; irresistible, bedabble. She was so good at it, they branded her a vixen, a whore, a sex-addict for it. 
But her throat’s dry and she realises she cannot speak. She does not want to say the same. Not to them. 
(Not for them to see how wrong, how abnormal, how broken she is. Not for them to know that they aren’t guilty, not as much as they paint Mannox or Dereham or Henry or Culpepper out to be, because fuck, she detests what they’ve done to her, what they’ve done torments her at night, but they were doing it for her. )
“I don’t know,” Katherine finally says, letting out a small, quiet breath. “I—I’m gonna go.”
She gets up and leaves, despite their protests. She crosses her arms. Her stomach knots, as she advances up the stairs. She huddles in on herself, once she arrives at her bed. She closes her eyes, and lets out a long, shuddery breath. 
.
Her room is colder than before. And she should stay there, really, until she drifts off into bed, until the nightmares tap her windows and trespasses into her mind’s eye. 
But Anna doesn’t let her. 
There’s a knock, two, three, at her door. Katherine? And Anna enters, before Katherine can respond because she’s so exhausted. 
And before she can stop herself, a sardonic retort pulls from her lips, powdered with a smile. “Barging in on rooms today, are we, Anna?”
“Only checking up on my favourite Queen of England,” replies Anna, and a light laugh shakes Katherine’s chest; at least she doesn’t take it as a jab. 
“But if you really want me to go. I’m sorry. I can leave—”
“No, don’t.” And there’s an unspoken please that stays between her words. 
Anna stays. Katherine looks to her side; to the walls, to anything but Anna’s eyes. 
“Do you want to talk about anything?” Anna asks. “I’m… sorry, if that game triggered anything.”
“It didn’t.” Katherine says. 
There’s a moment of silence that diffuses between them. And the awkwardness is nigh-high in the air, oh so uncomfortable, almost as if she was back to where they began: Katherine, a lady-in-waiting at Court, fretfully counting down the minutes until the Queen’s arrival. 
“What’s this about, then?”
Katherine lets out a low laugh. “Nothing. I just… needed a moment, is all. Think I had too much to drink.”
Anna’s belief, or lack thereof, is even starker after Katherine utters her words. And something curls in her chest, because she at least could’ve found a better excuse, or she could’ve said it earlier. Because now Anna’s waiting for her to say something, especially after Katherine’s told her to stay, and… 
“... I don’t know,” Katherine says, sighs, tries to put a smile on her lips. “Look, Anna… I really appreciate you being here. Truly. But…” and her words falter.
Another pause. 
“Katherine… you know you can talk to me about anything.” 
No. No, I can’t. And yet even as those words echo in her mind, she knows it isn’t really true. She has spoken to Anna about everything; back in the Court, and now. So instead, she settles with: 
“You wouldn’t want to know.”
“Give me your worst.”
Katherine feels something struggle by the ends of her lips. “Do you really want to know?”
Anna gives one nod. 
Katherine exhales. She turns her head away, and a burn creeps onto her face, and she closes her eyes because she can’t meet Anna’s face. 
“Fine. They raped me. And it was my fault.”
Nothing, for a moment. And then another. Katherine swallows and opens her eyes. 
Anna’s eyes are wide. She stands, in stunned silence, for a moment, until her eyes narrow, until she shakes her head vigorously. “Katherine! It’s not your fault. I cannot conceive how it can be your fault, Katherine. They forced themselves on you!”
Guilt sloshes in her stomach. Katherine lets out a breath. Forces her words out of her throat. “No… no, it’s not just that. I didn’t tell you everything. He… he wanted to fix me.”
“What?”
She huddles in on herself. “I said what I said. I let them.”
Another moment. And another. And another. And Katherine doesn’t know what Anna’s thinking, and she doesn’t know, doesn’t know if she wants to know that it’s revulsion or confusion that colours her face, doesn’t want to know if judgement or aghastness that lines her eyes . But Katherine can’t bear the silence. 
Please say something. 
She takes another look at Anna. And something inexplicable reigns on Anna’s face. And then, the last thing Katherine expects tumbles out of Anna’s mouth. 
“Katherine... what do you think of men?”
“What do you mean?” She scoffs, quietly, as if to hide the recoil in her chest. “I think you know what level of esteem I hold men in.”
Anna shakes her head. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean… how would you describe them? Physically?”
… what?
“Bodies. Flesh. Faces,” she says, without really thinking, and heat tinges her cheeks, because what is she supposed to say?  
“... of course, their faces can be pleasing to see, but that is… merely that.”
Anna stares at her. “Is that really how you see men?”
“Am I wrong?”
That coaxes a chuckle out of Anna. “No, not wrong. What about women, then?”
Katherine stays there, bewildered, for a moment. Till finally, she finds the words on her lips. 
“They are… bodies, of course. Flesh and faces. And their faces are certainly beautiful, of course. Like marble stone. It is not… I’m not… men and women are both beautiful. Like sunsets, or paintings, or well-crafted statues.”
“... Aesthetically so?”
Katherine nods. And even as she does she feels a sinking feeling in her chest. Because now Anna’s going to understand, now Anna’s going to know, and yet she cannot stop the words from forming on her lips.  
“Yes, I suppose that’s it. They are aesthetically beautiful.” 
There is a moment of quiet between them. 
“Katherine…” and Anna gnaws her lips, “… do you feel sexual attraction?”
And there.
“W-what?” she says, and it escapes her throat, almost a laugh—yet the sound is more strangled than that. 
“Like… how do I put this.” Anna exhales. “Do you see someone, and do you desire them?”
“I—I think they’re beautiful, of course.”
“But do you want them?” 
She’s about to say of course when she stills. No, no. 
She cannot lie. 
For this is Anna. 
(And, involuntarily, she thinks of when she was a child. She thinks of men and courtiers, of women and their laughter. Of bodies pulsating against bodies.Of skin grinding against skin. Gasps. Sweat. Breaths. Of slimy bodies and of repugnant odour and screams. Of crevasses that remind her of bodybags.)
Something bitter reigns on Katherine’s lips.
“... no, I don’t. See? There’s something broken in me, something unnatural, Anna, I—”
And she falters. Anna looks at her: with concern, with care. 
And gentleness not before heard in her voice presses through Anna’s tone, so soft, so quiet. “Katherine, have you heard of asexuality before?”
.
And there is something that chokes at the back of her throat. As she looks at articles and comments and statements. Asexuality.
Because she thought she was wrong and thought she was broken and it didn’t make sense, not before. 
But she trawls through articles. She trawls through what other people say and it hits. Their words make sense. They resonate. 
This… this is her. 
(And she remembers how she’d cried, then, into Anna’s shoulder. And she remembers when Anna held her. And had murmured.)
(They were wrong. They are wrong for wronging you. You are not wrong, Katherine. Don’t you dare say that you are wrong, that you are abhorrent, that you are broken . You are not. You are yourself. And there is nothing wrong with you.)
She isn’t alone.
(She never was, not really. But she just never… knew.)
.
They didn’t believe it when she’d said it; not at first, the moment she’d gathered everyone in the living room, told them she had something to say.
“I’m asexual. That means... I don’t feel… sexual attraction. Not towards others. Not to anyone.”
But the Queens’ eyes are wide and there is a glimmer of a smile that hangs off their lips. And Katherine feels something twitch by her mouth, too.
“Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us, Katherine,” says Jane, softly. “We love you no matter what.” 
Her cousin has mischief made in her eyes. Parr’s own are sparkling. And Anna is smiling with the knowledge already. 
She tells them. Because, unlike the Court, where her pretence was given, she doesn’t want to convince them of the same. She wants to tell them. Who she is. Herself, whole and herself. 
And there are questions, of course; there always are questions. But they are made in good faith, they are genuine queries, and Anna is there to help her answer, too. 
By the end of it all, Anne cocks her head. “Can I ask you a question, Katherine?”
(And it’s serious, she knows: for Anne, so taken to calling her a variety of nicknames, had never really called her by her full name, at all.)
Katherine nods. 
“Is that because of them?”
Because of what they’ve done to you? 
Katherine muses this, for a moment. 
“No,” she finally says. “No, I don’t think so.”
Because. It is undeniable that they’ve... changed her. Despite how much she hates that they have. That she wishes it were not so. They’ve changed her. But not that way. 
“I think I’ve always been…” and she tries the words on her lips. Half a smile perks by her mouth. “Ace.”
And they embrace her, there, and then.
(She lets them.)
.
And, perhaps, it comes to this.
Katherine Howard does not know love. 
Not sexual love, at least. But sexual love is not all there is to love. And it does not mean that she is broken, that she is lesser, if she doesn’t want it.  
(And… she’s still thinking about romantic love. She isn’t sure, not yet, at least. Perhaps she is aromantic; perhaps she is not. She’s not ruling anything out yet. She’s patient. She’ll wait and see.)
(Yet: the flutter in her chest when she sees Anna, implies, perhaps, something else.)
What Katherine does know, however, is this:
She knows love. 
She knows love made with care, with zest, with euphoria. 
She knows familial love.
(She knows romantic love.)
And that kind of love is all she wants. That love is what she needs.
(Katherine Howard does not know love; not at first, not all of its forms and its intricacies. But, she thinks. She does, now.)
.
“How about… I’m the ten amongst these threes?”
“Anne!”
“What? Let Katherine decide if she likes it or not!”
Katherine stifles a laugh in the back of her throat. She looks between an exasperated Anna to a far-too-happily expectant cousin. “I like the irony in me judging you all for your looks.”
“See! She likes it!”
“Only the irony, Anne.” Katherine says, a hint of a smile upon her lips. “I will never not enjoy the fact that the most sexual song is sung by the most asexual person of this group.”
Anne laughs. “Me too, Kat. And we love you for it.”
“Yeah,” Katherine says, and a certain warmth pools in her heart, despite how much her words are sunken in humour. “I know you all do.” 
-
A/N. Hi all! 
Thank you so much for reading. I feel like this fic is almost an amalgamation of Breathe For Them and Dance For Them; and I hope you’ve enjoyed it! I really have writing it. 
Pertaining historical accuracy, the sequence of events are the same that of Breathe For Them and Dance For Them; obviously, I’ve taken a fair few liberties. A few comments about appearances are anachronistic, and probably what might be improbable was the Royal Court talk about men, since female sexuality was frowned upon. However, court gossip did exist, which is what I’d mostly basing those scenes on. 
About Katherine’s sexuality—I headcanon Six!Katherine as ace homoromantic, who feels aesthetic attraction; which interweaves with the Don’t series overall. 
I know that it’s been a hot second since I’ve stepped my toes into this fandom, and it’s been so much fun revisiting Katherine after… almost a year. But I hope you guys liked this anyhow! 
29 notes · View notes
banalbones · 4 years
Text
The Petite Prince: Chapter 8
Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Chapter 8: One (1) Breakdown
Summary: Roman is a child. It is now Patton’s turn to look after him.
Words: 2150
Ships: Familial everything, except roceit. Eventual familial roceit
Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst
Warnings: A few swears, mention of the words ‘sexual innuendo’ tell me if there’s any more!
Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world @cemmy @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @nonbinary-lizard-2 @fanforeveruniverse @i-cant-find-a-good-username @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @7-slights-at-virgil @crazydemigod666 @tryingtobts
__________________________
Is everything about to go to shit?
How did you know.
__________________________
I’ve said too much!
Roman would have thought, if he were his usual age. But alas, he is not, and so the small prince just wanted a hug.
Plus, hugs usually made people happy!
And I made Mama sad! He was the only not-sad person! He needs a hug now.
And so the little prince snuggled closer to Logan’s chest.
Then he felt a tug.
Thomathy!
Logan, it seemed, had also felt the tug. He frowned.
“Roman, I may have to leave quite soon. Is there anyone you would like to stay with while I’m gone?”
The prince’s brows furrowed as he thought about the question.
“ReeRee?”
“I’m afraid he is already with Thomas.”
Who else was there?
“I d’kno…”
_______________________
Logan sighed. He would have to choose for the royal.
Virgil had told him of the conversation he and Roman had had the night before. It wasn’t an optimal situation, but it wasn’t as if he could get the prince to choose between going to Patton or Janus.
The two who had hurt him the most.
But Remy wasn’t here, and Orange…
He would go with Patton.
“How about Patton?”
The princely side’s face bore a pained expression, before immediately switching to a relatively happy one.
“Ya!”
Logan stood up, hugging the prince to his chest.
“Off we go.”
_________________
Patton was in his room, attempting to make himself some eggs and bacon for breakfast. As the only thing he could make well were brownies, it came out burnt.
Even the egg, somehow.
The moral side dumped the ‘breakfast’ into a bin, before clapping his hands together and summoning some edible food.
I really don’t know why people think I can cook decently…
I can only bake-on brownies!
___________________
Holy shit.
Get it? Like bacon?
We got it.
Egg-celent!
Oh my…
___________________
Patton had just gotten a text from Logan that he would have to look after Roman while he and Virgil looked after Thomas.
The moral side really couldn’t afford to mess this up.
Especially after seeing Remus’s reaction to how the whole situation went down.
The Duke had stayed silent for a moment, before sprouting tentacles and storming off, destroying almost everything in his path and shoving the other sides out of his room.
You could hear him screeching through the walls.
It was lucky that Roman had left when he did.
I don’t want to think about that. So, how will I decorate my room for Roman?
Ah, repression. A very useful tool, even when it shouldn’t be used.
Patton had been preparing an apology speech for the little prince after being thrown out of Remus’s room, in true princey fashion, and with this new opportunity, it would be the perfect time to put it to use.
Even though Patton wasn’t entirely sure how he would apologize to a fifteen month old child.
He’d figure it out.
________________________
Roman clung tightly to Logan’s neck. Falling off of his shoulders would be bad. Just like sad! But more hurt-y.
Roman didn’t really like hurt-y-ness.
He also didn’t like having to stay with Patton, but Mama said that he had to and the prince really wasn’t bothered to protest. Protesting would have made Mama sad, anyway.
The small royal decided not to think about how sad Da-Patton had made him.
Will he have brownies? He had brownies yesterday. Brownies are good…
“Little one?”
Roman giggled at the nickname.
“We’re here. Would you like a hug before I go?”
“Ya!”
And so the logical side lifted Roman from his shoulders and swung him around through the air. The prince squealed as Logan then raised him above his head.
“Simba!”
And with that the petite prince exploded with giggles, letting out a small roar.
Logan let out a sigh of relief.
Roman then hugged the logical side’s neck.
“Bye Mama!”
It was safe to say that the miniature monarch was feeling a lot happier now.
_____________________
Janus had been dealing with intrusive thoughts since his last ‘interaction’ with Remus.
The one ‘person’ he thought would always be by his side.
It wasn’t annoying at all.
For that’s all they were, annoying. Being forced to live with Remus for over twenty years gets you used to these sort of things.
It was slightly worse though, as usually Remus would scream them at him from the ceiling, instead of sending them through his head. The deceitful side had somehow thought that the Duke couldn’t do that to him.
Janus didn’t even know how Remus had found out about the situation. He was literally the only person who talked to him. Aside from Logan, he supposed.
Only person who willingly talked to him.
And either way, Remus didn’t really like his brother. Why did he care now?
His train of thought was cut off as he heard a ding from his phone. Someone talking to him?
It was Patton.
Frogger: Guess who’s been invited to my room?
Ssssss: Who? And should I care?
Frogger: Ooooohhhhh yeeeeaaaah! You don’t know what happened!
___________________
Patton, while waiting for the princely side to arrive, decided to text Janus. Building up friendship was important!
He explained what happened to Roman, and then sent a few cat videos he found. Janus had seemed confused at those, they were sent kinda out of context.
And then there was a knock at his door.
The moral side leaped to his feet and ran to the door, opening it with little difficulty.
“Hey guys!”
The scene before him was adorable.
The tiny prince cuddled up to Logan’s chest with the logical side smiling softly at him.
Patton wished he had a camera.
“Salutations Patton.”
Roman waved enthusiastically and smiled, the grin not quite reaching his eyes.
The moral side felt a pang of sadness.
“Come on in!”
______________________
Roman was a bit scared.
He knew that Big him said princes shouldn’t be scared, but, the prince reasoned, he was currently not even two.
Patton’s room was cleaner than the last time he had seen it, with a bunch of toys laid out on the couch.
“Hey kiddo! Have you had breakfast yet?”
Roman nodded.
“Okay then! What do you want to do?”
Roman shrugged.
He knew adults hated it when children did that, from Thomas’s past experience, but he couldn’t help it. He really didn’t want to talk to him.
“How about we play with some toys?”
Roman nodded again.
And so for the next twenty minutes, Roman played with some toys, settling into the game and creating a kingdom.
I’m booooored. I wanna play with someone! ReeRee was way more fun!
“Pa- Patton?”
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“Play!”
“Play?”
“Play.”
And so for the next twenty minutes, Roman and Patton built up their empire, defeating the dragons and witchs and saving the citizens.
“Attack!”
Roman ‘charged’ forward into the newly created pillow fort, swinging around his inflatable sword.
Then Patton wailed.
“My liege, I’m being controlled by the evil dragon witch! I’m sorry!”
“NOooooOOoOoooOoo!”
Patton held his hands out.
“I’m sorry!”
And then he struck.
Roman giggled uncontrollably as the fatherly side tickled him silly, falling into the fluffy pillows behind him.
A ball of water was unconsciously summoned in his fist.
And suddenly Patton stood, absolutely soaked, with a shocked look on his face.
Oh no… he’s gonna be mad!
As it turned out, Patton wasn’t mad. He instead grinned and fell to the ground dramatically.
“I’ve been freed!”
The grin widened as Roman jumped up and hugged him tightly.
Patton hugged him back.
______________________
“Where were you last episode?
Virgil stood in his usual place on the stairs.
Remus was at the TV, a stormy expression on his face.
Well I know that ain’t good.
“Well?” Thomas questioned.
“Why do you need to know?”
Thomas sighed.
To be honest, Virgil didn’t want to tell him.
Why? Oh, just because it was literally because he and Remus were trying to beat Janus(?!?)’s high score in Just Dance.
It was pretty embarrassing.
Thomas had been discussing the wedding and moral dilemmas, had accepted a side, basically destroyed one and Virgil had been hanging with Remus, Remus of all sides, playing Just Dance.
Definitely embarrassing.
“We were playing Just Dance!”
The Duke had spoken up for the first time in two minutes. He usually would have made a sexual innuendo and five death jokes by now.
Odd.
“Really? I thought you hated the Duke, Virgil.”
“I do, but I hate the snake more. Needed to beat his score. Hence Just Dance.”
“Janus? How do you even have that? Also, did you beat it?”
“Well-”
And so the conversation continued, with Logan eventually showing up as Thomas asked the question all of them were hoping he wouldn’t.
“Hey guys, I’ve tried summoning him a couple of times already, but he didn’t rise up. Where’s Roman?”
__________________
Why didn’t you want me to know? I could have handled it.
No, you couldn’t have.
You didn’t even know we could play Just Dance.
Speaking of that-
Oh god, here we go.
Can we just continue with the story?
___________________
Roman was having so much fun!
He was still a little appre- app-er-eh-hen-sive, but still!
He and Papa Patton had defeated the evil Dragon Witch and were now drawing. Roman had been ready to use his crayons on the table, but the moral side had managed to get him a piece of paper before it came to that.
Just a little bit there, and some more that here…
It needed more glitter, but it was good enough!
Patton was in the middle of creating his own drawing, a puppy with a crown. Very good, if he didn’t say so.
And then he looked over at Roman’s.
The petite prince had created an oil painting of the fatherly side standing princess style at the bottom of a grand staircase, complete with a glam makeup look and a meticulously styled ball gown.
What the… Holy crackers!
It seemed that while Patton had been focused on his own small piece of paper, the small royal had been summoning tools and colours and had made a masterpiece.
“Kiddo… That’s amazing! How did you do that in fifteen minutes? You deserve a sticker! And what a great idea- putting me in a dress- it’s so creative!”
At that Roman frowned.
“You okay?”
The prince nodded.
“Kiddo?”
“Pe-o-ple never like Big me’s- never like Big me’s ideas.”
He blinked.
Oh.
___________________
Ooooh, shits about to go down.
No shit.
Do you mean ‘no shit Sherlock.’?
Please don’t bring that back.
Too late! ____________________
“I’m sure that’s not true…”
“It is.”
Roman didn’t want to ruin the happy mood, but decided to be blunt. Big him never tried to show he needed help, so he would.
Mama Lo had said that it was okay.
“Big me tries! But no one c- but no one cares!”
The prince was standing now.
“He always comes up- always comes up with big lists o’ ida’s, but no no no! Bad bad bad!”
Roman knew Big him always put on a mask, but it was so hard to keep it all the time!
He was only (not even) two!
He couldn’t deal with that level of stress!
“Mama an’ VeeVee hate them! Big me’s always tryin’ change the ida’s for them! No fair!”
His eyes were glowing.
“An’ you! An’ you…”
There were golden tears streaming down the princely side’s face as he collapsed onto the floor. Surprisingly enough, he seemed older than he had been before. The rant had been good for him.
Patton sank down on his knees next to the sobbing royal, who, when he felt the moral side’s hand on his back, stopped crying immediately.
But he needs to cry…
Patton didn’t know what to do. Because for the first time, he realised that Roman needed help. And support. And comfort.
But not for the reasons he had thought.
And so Patton hugged the scaled down side, long and hard.
Screw the speech, this would have to come from the heart.
“I’m sorry Roman. We’ll do better. I’ll do better. I might not understand now, and maybe I never will, but I will do whatever I can to help you. I’ll try. I promise.”
Roman nodded.
But still didn’t cry.
______________________
They spent a few minutes like that.
Roman knew he would have broken down eventually, but he didn’t think it would be now. Or to Patton.
But he felt a lot better.
And so the five year old prince clung tightly to the fatherly side.
There was so much more, but Papa Patton had said that even if he didn’t understand, he’d be there. That had been a reassurance he hadn’t known he needed.
And then there was a knock on the door.
“Can I come in?”
Janus.
______________________
Thank you for reading this extremely late chapter of the Petite Prince! My motivation really waned throughout the past few weeks, so thanks for waiting for this.
I also want to say, Patton being the side Roman first breaks down to was a surprise to me, too. It just felt appropriate in the moment.
I am also feeling kind of iffy with the part after ‘no shit, Sherlock’, the mood just changed completely.
(Also, this may sound odd, but Roman’s eyes are still glowing. It will be relevant!)
71 notes · View notes
superbadassnatural · 4 years
Text
Falling in Love
Summary: Sam has been in love with Y/N for quite a while and he does everything to win her heart. Square filled: Courting/courtship rituals (spntfwbingo) // Free Space (spnsongchallengebingo: Kiss me - Ed Sheeran) Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 4,624 Warnings: fluff and only fluff A/N: this was written for @spntfwbingo and @spnsongchallengebingo! I really enjoyed writing this one. This story was mildly inspired by The Vampire Diaries 3.14. The gifs are mine (I just learned how to make and I’m so happy). Oh, and this is the dress in case you’re wondering. Hope you enjoy it!
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The sound of your heels echoed through the hall as you walked out of the elevator and headed to your office. The small chatter, the non stop pacing and the tired eyes were common things on Monday mornings.
“Good morning, Olivia,” you greeted your personal assistant as you stopped by her desk.
“Good morning, Y/N,” her lips curled into a sweet smile. “How was your weekend?”
“Oh, you know, just lots of work. I’ve been working on this case and the court hearing is next week so it’s taking a toll on me. Other than that I binged watch The Walking Dead,” you shrugged. “How about you? Did you go out with Thomas?”
“I did,” she sighed as she finished typing. “He’s not that fun. I think we just didn’t click.”
“That sucks.”
“Yep, but I had fun this weekend. Had some quality ‘me’ time. Although I need to catch up on The Walking Dead,” she chuckled.
“You do. It’s really great. I’m loving it.”
“Morning, gorgeous,” his voice echoed in your ears as he walked past you.
“Morning, ass,” you said as you turned to him, only to see his back as he headed to his office.
“Morning to your ass, too,” Sam said before shutting his door and winking at you.
“When are you going to give him a chance?”
“Never?” you scoffed.
“C’mon, Y/N,” Olivia nearly whined. “Sam likes you and deep down you like him too.”
“Liv, we work together. It would never work.”
“We work together and we are still friends,” she argued, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“It’s different and you know it,” you sighed. “Alrighty, guess I have to get my work started then. Oh and get us some coffee, please.”
“Roger that.”
She stood up and headed to the coffee machine down the hall as you walked towards your office. You opened the door and the first thing your eyes landed on was the bouquet of pink and orange-ish roses sitting on your desk. As usual, there was a champagne envelope in the middle of them. You opened and again you found yourself amazed by his calligraphy.
You look gorgeous today, Y/N. As always. Fondly, Sam
A smile made its way to your lips as you read his words. He was so sweet. A good way to start your day.
After turning on your computer, you sent Olivia a message, asking her to get you a vase. You placed the envelope in your purse. Once you get home, you’re going to put it in your box along with all the notes and letters he had sent you.
Although you only met Sam on your first day working on Winchester’s Legal Firm, your mother was friends with Mary. After you graduated from Harvard she told Mary you were a lawyer looking for a job. John contacted you and set up a job interview.
The first time you walked in the building, you were mesmerized. It was enormous. It looked exactly like a law firm from the tv shows you used to watch. On your first day, John introduced you to Sam, his youngest son who had chosen to stay in the family business. At the time, it had been three years since he’d graduated from Stanford. Sam helped you get settled in and showed you around the firm.
You had started small. At first you got small cases and sometimes a more experienced lawyer would help you out and guide you. John made sure you got help from the best lawyers in the company. Sometimes you felt like you were treated differently because you were the daughter of a friend, but when you brought it up to him, he denied. He said he did that for everyone starting in his company. You knew that wasn’t true.
Nowadays you work on cases that appear on the news. Your face appeared on tv a few times. You found it odd when you saw yourself on the news during prime time. Your mom would always send a picture of the screen of her television with you in it, telling you she was proud. Sam did that sometimes too. He’d shoot you a message saying how beautiful you were or how your voice sounds so perfect when it echoes in his home.
A soft knock on your door pulled your attention away from your screen.
“C’mon in,” the door opened and revealed Olivia with the vase you asked.
“Wow, these are gorgeous,” she said as her eyes landed on the bouquet. “And smell good too.”
“Yeah, they do,” you smiled, placing the flowers in the vase. “I bet his PA chose these ones. He usually gets me blue roses or dahlias or even sunflowers,” you shrugged.
“Trust me, he chose these,” she said. “I have known Sam Winchester since I was fifteen, he wouldn’t ask for someone else to buy flowers for the girl he likes.”
“He doesn’t like me, Liv,” you shook your head. “He likes flirting with me. He likes courting me like I’m some damsel,” you explained to her with a roll of your eyes. “He likes the idea of me. That’s it.”
“Sure, Y/N, keep telling yourself that,” she sighed exasperated. “You need anything?” you shook your head and she walked out of your office.
You had much more important things to focus on than Sam’s feelings for you and his attempts to win your heart.
When you first met Sam, he was shy and mostly quiet, but as the time passed, he became more comfortable around you. Then you both started flirting and joking around. When feelings started to get in the way, things escalated to another level. Whilst Sam grew more caring and started trying to win your heart, you tried to put some distance between you. Sam is adorable and he’s a boyfriend material, but you worked together. You worked for his father. Sam never gave up though you gave him every reason why it wasn’t going to work. He didn’t even bother to hide his feelings from others. Everyone knew he liked you and that he bought you flowers every now and then. Sam has been courting you for about a year now. You enjoyed everything he did for you. He bought you nice gifts — some of which were really expensive — along with cute notes or letters. Every now and then something would be delivered at your home or your office. At the beginning, you tried to return it to him, but he wouldn’t take it back, so you stopped bothering.  
Later that day, you heard familiar soft knocks on the door. You muttered a ‘come in’ as you looked through the papers scattered on your desk.
“Hey,” he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “How you doing?”
Sam was wearing his graphite suit with a marigold tie. He looked so damn good in those. It should be a crime.
“Hey,” you glanced up at him, eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m tired and stressed. You?”
“I’m okay,” he sat on your desk. “Still working on that murder case?”
“Yeah,” you stretched as a yawn left your lips. “I have to be in court again next Tuesday. Can’t wait to get this over with.”
He smiled sympathetically. His hazel eyes roamed around the room in search of something you couldn’t quite point out.
“D’you like it?” his head motioned to the flowers that were now decorating your bookcase.
“I did. They are gorgeous,” you stood from your seat, walking towards the shelf. “Your assistant knows which ones to buy,” you scoffed.
“What makes you think Charlie bought these?” he asked, standing beside you.
“Well, you certainly don’t have the time to go out and buy a bouquet of flowers for me, Winchester.”
“I do. It takes some time to choose which one I think you’d like better, but it’s worth it,” he shrugged. “Also, I really aced the color of the flowers. See, they match your clothes,” a cocky smile hung on his lips as his fingers motioned to your clothes.
He was right. It did match. You were wearing a cream bow neck blouse and bright pink pants along with nude heels.
“This one is the same color as your pants,” he pointed and you chuckled. “You coming to the ball next Saturday?”
“I dunno,” you pursed your lips, heading back to your desk. “I’m not really in the mood and I don’t have a fancy gown.”
“You should come. It’s the company’s 50th anniversary. My mom has been planning this party for a long time and she would love to see you there,” he tried to convince you. “As for the dress, that can be arranged.”
“Sam, don’t,” you warned him with wide eyes.
“Argh, fine,” he sighed. “I should probably let you get back to work.”
————
You unlocked the door to your home. A feeling of relief washing through your body as you stepped inside. There was nothing better than coming home after an exhausting day of work.
Relaxing on the shower, you washed your body. The stress leaving you with every stroke of your loofah over your skin. You needed this. After drying yourself and putting on some baggy clothes, you headed to the kitchen to make yourself dinner.
The doorbell rang. You jumped and then frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. Opening the door, you noticed no one was there, but a paper bag was on your doorstep. You picked it up and brought it inside. You opened and a paper with his gorgeous handwriting sat on top of the things he bought.
Olivia told me you needed these...
Inside the paper bag there were some chocolate bars, gummy bears, chips and protein bars. At the bottom, you found a box of ibuprofen and another of ketoprofen along with another note.
Thought you might need these too. Also, in case you want something warm to cuddle and keep the pain away, text me and I’ll grab my pillow and come over ;p
You smiled at his words. He was so caring. It was the first time he did this kind of thing. As much as you were in complete awe over his endearment, you were also pissed that he knew when you were on your period. Damn you, Liv.
You thanked him over text and said you had a heating pad to cuddle and it was pretty capable of keeping the pain away, teasing him. Sam… he cared too much about you. He was investing his time and spending his money in a possible relationship that didn’t have a future.
---------
The days flew as you kept yourself busy with your big case and a few small ones. After the court hearing, everything became lighter. You had won the case and the defendant was given a life sentence without the possibility of parole. You were happy with how that had turned out.
As Saturday came closer, all everyone talked about was the company’s anniversary party. A part of you wanted to go. You needed to let yourself loose a little and spending some time with your colleagues outside of work would be great. But another part of you wanted to stay home, relaxing on your bathtub and binge-watching your favorite tv show. You still haven’t decided yet.
Every year, Mary and John threw fancy parties for the company’s anniversary. This time it’s going to be even fancier. A ball for its fiftieth birthday. It was a big deal so it deserved a bigger celebration. You understood that, but you didn’t like going to balls. You didn’t even have a long fancy dress to begin with. And you weren’t so sure you’d have fun at such a formal event. Olivia said she’d lend you a dress. She was the same size as you so it would fit, but you still weren’t sure if you were going to go.
You finished typing in your computer just as your clock marked it was time to go home. Fridays were usually busy and stressful, but not today and for that you were glad. Grabbing your purse, you walked out of the building and went straight for your car, starting the engine. You couldn’t wait to get home. Everyone had a day off tomorrow because of the party. You had less than twenty four hours to decide whether you should go or not. For now, at least until you get home, you will ignore the messages asking if you were going. They will know when you decide. And for them, you mean Sam, Olivia, and Mary.
Mary was friends with your mother. Although you only met her later when you filled an application to work in her firm, she liked you a lot. When you were a teenager you had heard many stories of her and your mom about their high school years. You had seen many pictures of her, but never had seen her in person. She cared a lot about you. She’d always tell you to give her son a chance. She said he deserved a person like you, but you just brushed it off and told her it wouldn’t work and he would only get hurt.
As you parked your car, you noticed a maroon package on your doorstep. Your eyebrows knitted into a frown. That was odd. You haven't ordered anything. You picked it up and walked inside. After locking the door and placing your purse over the counter, you headed to your room with the box in your hands. This could only be Sam. You placed it in your bed. It was a beautiful box, it had a cream satin ribbon tied into a bow. You sucked in a deep breath before opening it. What did he buy you this time?, you wondered.
Opening the box, a sapphire blue gown revealed itself before your eyes. You gasped. Sam had bought you expensive stuff before, but this was on a whole new level. You stared wide-eyed at the dress folded beautifully. You couldn’t find it in you to touch it. Slowly, your fingers reached for the satin, grazing over the material. This couldn’t be real. He didn’t do that. He couldn’t. At this point, you didn’t even want to know how much it cost him. Reluctantly, you took the gown in your hands, removing from the box. It was one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. A cream envelope rested at the bottom of the box. Your name was written in a neat handwriting. You opened it and read the letter.
Save me a dance. Yours, Sam.
A smaller paper with his handwriting followed.
Olivia told me your size. Hope it fits. If it doesn’t, give me a call. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night.
You stared fixed at the smaller note, slack-jawed. He has really gone through all that effort just to get you a gown for a ball you didn’t even know you were going. Well, now you had to despite wanting to go or not. Sam had really outdone himself this time.
Sam had bought you jewelry before and you were sure it was expensive as hell. Sometimes he brought your favorite dish to your office so you’d stop working and have lunch. He knew if he didn’t do that, you’d spend the afternoon without eating because you were too busy. He got flowers delivered to your office and to your home. He left you sticky notes just to let you know he was thinking about you. Once he met this guy that could draw realistic things and he asked him to draw you. He showed him his favorite picture of you and the man drew you. At the bottom of the paper, it said ‘this feels like falling in love’. Sam was everything you could ask for in a guy. Sometimes you wonder why you just didn’t let him all the way in. He had the potential to destroy you in ways no one ever could. That scared you.
————
Saturday had started just like any other day. Except it felt as if it was actually Sunday because you had the day off. You went grocery shopping and used some of your free time to clean your apartment. Although you didn’t like to admit it, you were nervous about tonight. You were afraid of meeting Sam in a tux and feeling something different when you looked at him. You had tried for so long to keep your feelings shutted down and buried in the bottom of your heart. Now they were just all over the place. They were on the gorgeous gown in the box. They were on the blue roses in your living room, on the bright pink roses in your office. They were on the face masks he bought you, on the bath bombs he knew you liked. They were impregnated on the necklaces and earrings in your drawer. Your home had pieces of him everywhere. Most important, he was in your mind and heart.
After a relaxing bath, you put on your robe and placed your make-up on the counter. You didn’t want to do something heavy but you also didn’t want something too light. As your hair dried out, you started working on your make-up. Your skin was already moisturized so you prepared it with primer before applying a light coat of foundation. Then concealer for a light coverage, followed by foundation powder, a bit of bronzer and blush here and there, and highlighter. So far, you were satisfied with the results. You opened your eyeshadow pallete and opted for lighter shades. After curling your eyelashes, you wriggle the brush of your favorite mascara across the roots of your lashes. Then you applied your favorite lipstick over your lips and finalized your makeup with setting spray. By the time you finished, your hair had almost completely dried out.
Your heart started to pound in your chest as you entered your bedroom. You stared at the gown that was now on hanger. It seemed that it would tear itself apart if you touched it. It was so beautiful. Silvery jewels along the bodice. Thin blue straps only made it look even more delicate. The long, sapphire blue, silk-pleated skirt had you swooning.
You shrugged off your robe, pooling around your feet, and walked towards the dress. Your fingers brushed over its skirt. Sucking in a deep breath, you removed the gown of the hanger and put it on. It fitted perfectly, just like you anticipated. You walked to the full length mirror and were mesmerized. Jaw-slacked, you absorbed all the details of the gown. It felt as if it was designed just for you. The color blue looked good on you. The gown hugged your body in all its smoothness. You turned a little to get a full glance, the skirt swooned around your ankles. In that moment, you have never felt so beautiful.
After waking up from your trance, you knew exactly which heels to put on. Few months ago, you bought this pair of white heels that held a little bit of silver and were extremely comfortable. They probably wouldn’t be visible, but they matched the dress perfectly. You picked a delicate necklace Sam gave you to go along.
Your hair was done in no time. You had opted for pinning it up in a loose and edgy updo. A few loose locks of hair graced your face.
You called an uber and in twenty minutes you found yourself in front of the hotel. A sign pointed to the right indicated the ball was that way. You took a deep breath before walking in that direction. Deep down, you were nervous, but you were also confident about the way you looked. This time you might actually fit in.
Your eyes widened as you stepped foot into the room. The decoration was in shades of gold and white with a little silvery here and there. Your eyes searched for him in the crowded room. It was inevitable. Everytime you’d walk into a room you knew Sam was in, your eyes wouldn’t stop roaming around the area in search of him. They found him. He wore a shiny black tuxedo along with a black tie. It fitted his body perfectly and only made his shoulder look broader. In other words, he was hot as hell.
In a matter of seconds, Sam’s hazel eyes found yours. His gaze fixed on you. He had to use every last ounce of his strength to not to gasp. Yet, his lips parted. How did you manage to look even more beautiful? Sam couldn’t hear what his coworkers were talking about. He couldn’t hear the music playing. His attention was solely on you. Your lips curled into a smile as you held up your hand and mouthed a “hi” before making your way to Mary and John.
“Y/N,” Mary beamed, hugging you. “You look beautiful, sweetie. I’m so glad you came.”
“Yeah, I’m glad too,” you smiled.
“Please, help yourself. I think your friends are here already. If you need anything, just look for us,” she winked, leaving to welcome other guests.
Before you had the chance to walk to your friends, Sam approached you, offering you a glass of champagne.
“You look stunning tonight,” his eyes glistening as he stared at you.
“Thank you,” you smiled, as you sipped at your glass. “For everything. I mean, if you didn’t buy me this gown, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Oh, you know, I was just passing by then I saw this dress on a shop window and thought of you.”
“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that,” you scoffed. “I think I owe you a dance, don’t I?”
“You do,” he smiled, placing yours and his empty glasses on a table nearby.
You noticed him signaling to someone, before he held out his hand. You gladly took it and let him walk you to the center of the room. A few people were dancing. The song ended and a slower one filled your ears. One you knew too well. Your lips curled into a smile.
His right hand made its way to your lower back. Your left hand resting on his shoulder as the other held his big, rough hand. As your eyes met his hazel orbs, everyone seemed to dissolve around you.
Settle down with me Cover me up Cuddle me in Lie down with me And hold me in your arms
The rhythm of the song guided your movements. For the first time, you were nervous around Sam Winchester. He pulled you a little closer and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.
And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now
“Someone once sent me a playlist they created with songs that reminded them of me. This song was the first one and they said it was their favorite,” you teased.
“I wonder who that is,” he smirked.
“Oh, you know, just some guy I happen to have a thing for.”
Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved
The warm pressure of his hand on the small of your back made uncontrollable feelings surge through your body. You were overwhelmed. You had let him in. All the way in. Sam Winchester has won your heart. There was no holding back now. Your body was acting on its own, it was at his mercy.
He leaned his head closer to yours. “This feels like falling in love. Falling in love. We're falling in love,” he whispered ever so softly against your ear.
Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms
You drew him closer to you. It felt as if you couldn’t get enough of him. Your eyes glistened as you stared at his beautiful face.
Oh no My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now
He was so close. His breath fanning at your cheeks. Once again you let him sway your body around and around, your gown billowing out. His face was perfect. His hazel eyes held a spark every time he looked at you. His slightly parted lips only made you want to taste them. You love him. Simple as that.
Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love
You couldn’t refrain your eyes from staring at his pink lips. They were so kissable. You were drawn to them.
“If someone had said to me a guy would spend a whole year courting me and trying to make his way to my heart, I’d have laughed and then punched them.”
“Well, you deserve to be courted,” he shrugged. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives worshiping you.”
You continued to dance and spin around the room. You were amazed at yourself for not squishing his foot under your own not even once. The lights seemed to twinkle with every step as you spun delicately.
Yeah I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up
As the song came closer to its end, Sam raised his hand to your upper-middle back. He applied a gentle pressure to your back to let you know he wanted to dip you. You trusted him completely to not let you fall. You were safe in his arms. He mildly lowered you backward.
So kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love
Your eyes were locked. His hazel orbs glistened as they seemed to stare deep into your soul. Your whole body ignited with something you’ve never felt before. His pupils dilated as he took in every trace of your face, every detail. Your breath was caught in your throat. Your eyes remained lost in his as he pulled you back up with him. Your breasts pressed firm to his chest.
Both of his hands were placed on your hips now as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You smiled before capturing his lips into a passionate kiss. The whole world fell away once again. Your brain was lit on fire as a warm spread through your entire body.
Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love
He managed to pull you closer to him until there was no space between you. Until you could feel his heart beating against your chest. His tongue grazed over your lower lip and at your granted access he delved into your mouth. The caress and the strokes of his tongue were softer than you could have imagined. You could never have enough of him. He was intoxicating, but in a good way. You felt his lips curl into a smile before you parted.
“We’re falling in love,” you whispered between panting breaths before pecking his lips once again.
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Feedback is greatly appreciated! You can send it my way via reply, reblog or ask!
Sam Babes:
@maya-craziness
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So, I had a Thought. This is a My Hero Academia thought, so if you're not into it or you don't watch it or are planning to watch it and don't want spoilers, ignore this. This also includes my OC, Remus Aizawa, who's the child of Eraserhead and Present Mic. Those two are married in this, so it's Erasermic, too. I guess people who don't like reading about other people's OCs or Erasermic should ignore this, then. But, there's some wholesome stuff amidst my usual incoherent ramblings, so if you want wholesome LGBTQ+ content, just keep reading.
So, after the dorms are instituted, but before the 1A kids take the provisional license exam, the teachers decide to have a parent-teacher conference thing where the parents come and visit their kids and stuff. This event lasts a week, and there are no classes during that week. Now, All Might's space is Friday at 6 PM, and he decides to have a group meeting where the entire class's parents come in and everybody hangs out together so the kids can show their parents what they're learning and how they interact with each other and All Might can answer any questions.
All Might has everybody sit in a circle together. Everybody sits with their parent(s). Remus sits next to Present Mic, and Mic's there holding Mr. Aizawa's hand. Because they're married. Most of the other parents are all :0 at it, but the kids are like, "This is Old News." All Might starts the meeting, and it goes smoothly for a while until Endeavor, being Endeavor, and this being before his 'I'm going to be a Good Person and New Symbol of Peace and hide the fact that I abused and neglected my wife and kids for years and expect them to be okay with that' bullshit starts, says something homophobic and enbyphobic about Aizawa, Mic, and Remus.
Remus is non-binary lesbian and uses she/he/they pronouns for projection reasons. She's only out to a few of her classmates. Those classmates are Yuga Aoyama, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Minoru Mineta, Katsuki Bakugou, Tenya Iida, and Rikido Sato, 5/7 of them only because Denki was a dumbass and forgot how to knock, then opened their bedroom door while they were stuck trying to put their binder back on after a shower (Denki is also trans in this AU, and helped them get unstuck, and they've been friends ever since). As for the rest of the class, all the girls think he's a boy, and all the boys think she's a girl. (But 🎵he's not a boy, she's not a girl, can I make it any more obvious?🎵-- any Thomas Sanders fans here?)
So, when they hear this, the seven are like, "Oh, shit, Remus just got outed," and everyone else is like :0. Remus is in this weird limbo between, "Oh my god, I just got outed, what's everyone going to say?" and, "I don't care if he's the number 1 hero now, Imma punch this bitch for outing me and saying shit about my dads." She ultimately picks to punch the bitch and stands up, but Present Mic takes her wrist and makes her sit back down. After their initial shock, the other 1A kids start standing and yelling, and the parents are looking at each other like, "What do we do here?" And then, All Might yells for everyone to be quiet and tells the kids to go out in the hall while the grown ups have a Talk. They do so, mutering discontentedly.
While Mic and Aizawa are giving Endeavor the, I-don't-care-what-you-say-to-my-husband-and-I-but-if-you-come-after-my-kid-again-we're-gonna-have-a-problem talk, the kids are out in the hall talking to each other. The general consensus is that some of them are gay or trans, and it doesn't matter that they're the minority, this simply Will Not Do. They're brainstorming what to do, when Remus says, "I have Pride Flag stickers in my bag," and produces a huge-ass book of Pride stickers. By huge-ass, I mean there are 8 pages, 2 of each sticker shape, for every pride flag, with the exception of those created by TERFS and other exclusionists, in rectangle, heart, square, and circle shapes. The Ally Flag is there, too. So, after making sure if everyone who wasn't out yet was okay with it, the students start flipping through the huge-ass sticker book and grabbing their flag or flags. They each put a heart on each cheek and a big rectangle on their chest.
Denki wears the trans flag and the bi flag. Remus wears the nonbinary, ace, and lesbian flags. Mina wears the lesbian flag. Deku, Jirou, and Tsu wear the bi flag. Shoto Todoroki, Kirishima, and Bakugou wear the rainbow pride flag. Everyone else wears the Ally Flag. (This was my way of telling you how I headcanon each of the characters for the purpose of this story).
When All Might calls the students back in, they all hold hands or put their arms around each other and walk in together. The parents all stare at their kids wearing these brightly colored stickers, and All Might asks, "Um... What are you kids doing?" which is what everybody was thinking.
Mina yells, "This is a protest," and the students all cheer.
Bakugou follows that with, "That bitch--" pointing at Endeavor, "--was saying some homophobic and transphobic shit, and we're not going to fucking tolerate it! And you can't do anything about it because we all have quirks and together we can easily beat your ass, even stupid Deku over there." More cheering. Most of the parents joined in, because they're proud of their kids. Some are just shocked because holy shit their kid just came out to a whole room in protest their baby is so brave and strong and grown up now.
Then Tenya says, "As class representative, I'd also like to say something," to chants of "Speech, speech, speech!" Once that dies down, he continues, "After we moved into Heights Alliance, Remus Aizawa told me that the reason the League of Villains had kidnapped herself and Bakugou was to recruit them to their side. They tried to do so by telling her that society had no place for her, that if he ever came out to his friends, they'd alienate him, and brought up the fact that most of the world constantly misgenders and deadnames him. She declined their offer to join them, but I honestly wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't. With all due respect, Endeavor, your actions tonight were shameful. The level of intolerance you displayed has no place in Hero Society. I want all of you here tonight to know that the League of Villains was wrong. I may not be part of the LGBTQ+ community, but I think I speak for all of my cishet friends when I say we fully support our classmates who are, and when we're Pros, we plan to make sure this world is a place where everyone can be safe to be themselves, no matter their gender or sexuality. That is all. Thank you for your time."
The entire room was silent for a moment, then everyone but Endeavor started clapping. A few of the parents even asked for some of the Ally stickers, which Momo and Remus happily passed out.
Then there was Saturday, which had a few more parent-teacher conferences, and on Sunday, Class 1A threw a gender reveal/coming out party for Remus, Denki, Todoroki, Tsu, Bakugou, Jirou, Deku, and Kirishima. There were three cakes. One was frosted rainbow, with the cake the colors of the lesbian flag, and was full of M&Ms in the bi flag colors, and two were frosted white, one cake the color of the trans flag full of blue M&Ms and one full of yellow, white, black, and purple M&Ms, with cake the colors of the ace flag. There were also balloons that said, "It's a boy," and some with "boy" crossed out and replaced with "enby" everywhere. There also chips, soda, and fruits and vegetables (at Mr. Aizawa's request).
Were they trying too hard? Yes.
Was it a sweet gesture? Yes.
Did everybody have fun and enjoy the party? Hell yeah!
Anyway, that's the thing. That's the Thought. I hope you liked it!
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illogicallyinclined · 5 years
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familial bonding with coach thomas
He Is Their Dad, (HE’S THEIR DAD!) Boogie Woogie Woogie
tws: eating disorder
Coach Thomas, Patton and Emile have gotten into some of the most intense dad joke competitions that the team has ever seen. (Logan is so tired, please help him)
Coach Thomas owns an incredibly ugly vase that he has out on display in his living room, and the team rags on him about it constantly. (he secretly agrees. it was a gift from his older brother, so he would feel bad throwing it out, but oh my God is it Hideous).
one of the games that many of the Aces participate in is called “Sneak in the Sanders,” and the objective of said game is to take a selfie with Coach Sanders in the background without him noticing. Julian’s leading the team with 10 selfies and counting, but Remy has gotten the closest without Coach Thomas suspecting a thing, so who’s actually winning is debatable
the team isn’t technically supposed to text Thomas for things that aren’t hockey related, but that Does Not Stop Them, nor does it stop him from replying. after all, it’s not like administration can look at his personal texts. 
Thomas: Joan help i don’t know anything about cars, what if they expect me to know things about cars
Thomas knows all of the embarrassing dad dances and he does a few of them at the bench during every game. (listen, it’s the stadium’s fault for playing bops during the stoppage between plays)
Virgil’s actually prefers the Tampa Bay Lightning to the Panthers, so he and Coach Thomas will rib each other about it on occasion
Remy once dragged Coach Thomas into helping assemble a piece of furniture from Ikea over the summer between his freshman and sophomore year (because “you’re like, an old man, right?”), and they both nearly ended up in hysterical tears when he somehow managed to make a monstrosity out of the kitchen table 
(they had to call Joan in after that)
Thomas and Roman
ever since he was eight years old, Roman has seen Thomas as a source of inspiration; that said, when Roman joins the Aces, it takes little time for him to start seeing Thomas as a father figure as well
Coach Thomas was the first person that Roman ever explicitly told about his eating disorder, and he is oftentimes the first authority figure that Roman turns to whenever feeling too overwhelmed to keep everything to himself. that isn’t to say that Roman doesn’t internalize a lot of self-doubt and uncertainty -- he does, especially in the wake of Logan’s concussion -- but Thomas is at least among the best at getting Roman to talk about his issues.
Roman is driven by his personal motivation to make it to the NHL, but he’ is also driven by the desire to make others proud of him and what he has accomplished. he constantly fears not being enough -- for his fans. for his team. for Coach Thomas. needless to say, when Thomas is disappointed in him, it’s... it’s a bad time.
(Thomas’s threat to take away the “C” when sorting things out between Roman and Logan has haunted Roman for longer than anyone could possibly know. and now that the team is actively falling apart, Roman’s just counting down his minutes until Coach Thomas makes the threat again. except this time, Roman won’t blame him in the slightest if he actually follows through)
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