#and then he comes back home each day to his father wo tried to find the best knights to kill him

[gd-dollopole]

But make it BBC Merlin, and instead of Uther fending off the knights, he has no idea his son, Arthur, IS the dragon, and instead, Uther calls for the knights to kill his own son.

You’re the half-dragon child of a king and a dragon mother who gave up everything to marry him. When you hit puberty, dragon features start to emerge, and now your father spends his days fending off knights determined to 'slay the dragon.

[60inchyugiohheadcanons]

On Jōnouchi's ADHD (1.39k words)

This headcanon is probably the longest on this blog; it's some compiled thoughts on how growing up with (undiagnosed) ADHD has affected Jōnouchi. It's halfway between headcanon and fanfiction piece, and was requested by @bloodyscott, whom I kept waiting for too long for a response. I apologise sincerely for the delay.

This headcanon begins below the cut, as it's obscenely long. You may find it more comfortable to read this from the blog page, or on Archive of Our Own (NOTE: tumblr is acting strange. To access the page, copy the link and manually remove the href.li portion and the second https), rather than on your dashboard/search, in terms of formatting and such.

From infancy, Jōnouchi wailed his way out of his crib, out of his room, out of his house—as a baby, he thrashed towards whatever freedom he could find. He loathed the four walls of the crib; he'd scarce room to move. A skin infection brought him, aged 4, to hospital, and the very sight of overrun grey plastic seats and skinny cubicles exhausted him more than his illness had ever threatened to.

In primary school, others’ desks would blend together in a whir. Here he was, stuck, dizzyingly sedentary—the longer he sat, the foggier the world seemed to grow. When he kicked and whined at other children throughout electric lunch breaks, and they shrank from his vitality, he learned to eat alone. As his peers trudged from class in packs, watching the pavement, he sat, sullen, as his father drove him home. Somehow, Katsuhiro had never trusted him not to lose himself in chasing his surrounds. The fabric of the car seat would bite into his shorts, and he’d squirm for the window, squealing towards the noise outside: Birds that cawed; scraps of paper that fluttered and choked on smog. That was a fragile era, when his mother still waited, with dry hands and chipped nails, at home. When his father already stank of beer, but still spoke loudly, deeply, boisterously. Again and again, Jōnouchi’s mother would sit her son down, and write his name, stroke by agonising stroke. She’d recite each mora in time with each character. Yet sound would cluster through his head, and his own name would dissolve amid his mother’s instructions, amid the blaze of sunlight trapped on the windowsill behind her. He would write, and the strokes would come out rushed, mis-ordered, lopsided. 

Iro wa nioedo 

chirinuru wo.

At 10, his father grew quiet, and his mother yet quieter. Silence took up like a plague in Jōnouchi’s head, and swarmed in shapeless formation throughout parched mathematics lessons. Times tables hurled themselves headlong into a skull full of fog, and burst on contact. Are you listening? a teacher asked. How could he listen with a head full of noise, of unspoken words billowing back and forth? He gripped his seat, and glared back. Why should I care, anyway?

When his mother left, his father stopped caring to chaperone him. It had taken Jōnouchi a decade to earn the right to shed his infancy. He resented that it had been this long, so tried to join the huddle of middle schoolers. He told odd stories, and took off, queasy, in front of them. They withdrew their smiles when he approached on the second day. He growled his plaint, and resentment drove him to take the opposite route. He explored back alleys, wallflower convenience stores and dilapidated cinemas; the faster he walked, the more clearly he could see each brick, and the brighter each fleck in the pavement glinted. At speed, he delayed the journey home, and set his eyes on a gorgeous early winter sunset. The colours bellowed, too bold for winter, ungainly and vain. They were glorious.

Jōnouchi came home late. His father glared; fog crashed back down on his shoulders. 

Wa ga yo tare zo 

tsune naran?

A week before she cleared out too few of Katsuhiro’s belongings and packed too few suitcases, Jōnouchi’s mother drove both children two miles to the optometrist. My son, she explained, reads slowly, yet resents reading; it seems he can’t see very well. My daughter’s sight seems clearer, yet she complains of pain. The optometrist forced Jōnouchi to read down a chart of letters; he fidgeted, and, consumed in memories of a lonely lunch break the day prior, passed with flying colours. When the optometrist flashed a light to photograph his eyes, whatever hideous miracle that was, Jōnouchi screamed.

Katsuya Jōnouchi, the optometrist surmised, had perfect acuity of sight. He sought attention, stimulation. Meanwhile, Shizuka Jōnouchi, who had sat entirely still throughout her examination, had more ragged, derelict peripheral vision than her family had anticipated. Untreated, both your children will get much worse.

And in the months after Shizuka Jōnouchi became Shizuka Kawai and Mrs. Jōnouchi became That Bitch Who Never Cared, Katsuya Jōnouchi became horribly aware of how little time he had to be lethargic. He had to survive this schism; yet as he was, he barely felt capable of thinking. He walked, fidgeted, paced to prove to himself that he was a moving, breathing organism. Yet his father’s frustration would brook no exuberance. Long before Katsuhiro fully committed to flinging glass and spurning his son’s misery, Jōnouchi began learning to move silently, slowly, around his father. He memorised which mats snapped and snagged, which bits of fabric hissed when stepped on. He noted which windows opened most quietly. And yet he never managed a perfect, quiet exit. He couldn’t help but be conspicuous; he could only hope to get out too quickly for his father to react. And, to lift the torpor that followed escape, he would run to school, and, after, run back. Never did the sun shine brighter than when he was moving.

Uwi no okuyama

kyou koete.

When he met Hirutani, did he become more violent? No; every punch he threw during his delinquency had waited, kinetic and desperate, for days, months, years. In classrooms, his sole responses to being ordered around had been sullen deference, with sullenness being his sole demonstration of rebellion. Now, threatened with the obsolescence of his ego, of his perceived freedom, he chained himself to violence, over and over. The first time he punched a man in the gut, he found himself shaking. And rather than sink into sallow, domestic remorse, he slathered himself in white rage. And he went back and he went back and he went back, helpless to his own instincts, trying to dredge the noise in his skull out through his fists. No matter how many punches he threw, and no matter how many he received, he could not stop his head from blazing anew the moment he walked away.

Did Duel Monsters afford him any peace? He would be no man’s losing dog; nor would he be confined to dull celebrity. To play as a strategist consigned him to sitting still, committing himself to gambits he could never entirely trust, to moves that demanded a clear head. To play too whimsically would doom him to inferiority. Thus, he gave half his heart to diligence, and half to sheer fortune. Nobody could idolise his kind of folly, nor devalue his kind of skill. This was Jōnouchi’s will—to eschew having to wait in the mire of expectation; to escape the fog of obligation to anyone’s morals but his own. Honour suited him, so long as it was on his meticulous terms. In games of Duel Monsters, he became a knight-errant of sorts: predictably unpredictable, unexpectedly canny, blindly faithful. With this relationship to his own fate laid out so, he could finally draw cards without fearing those next to come. And thus, hyperkinetic, he found a peace in the game. So he played and played until he forgot how long he’d been playing, and Duel Monsters became as second nature.

Asaki yume miji

ei mo suzu.

Two weeks before Jōnouchi’s graduation, Shizuka invited him to her place to dine. Their father was not to join them. Jōnouchi protested, and his desperation died in a pinprick throat. Wisteria spilled itself over the footpath. Each step threatened to plunge, vertiginous, to the ground. 

When Jōnouchi saw his mother, his throat turned to sandpaper. She looked so old.

You cried so much as a baby, she told him. Kicked and screamed to see the world. You weren’t comfortable waiting in your crib—I’d end up coming to you at 4AM, walking you around the perimeter of the house till my heels burned. And you seemed so afraid of all the noises of the night—groaning engines, singing birds. Now, look at you—you’ve grown up so terribly fast.

Could he afford to tell her how even now, he bit down the urge to kick and scream, to launch himself, all fists and sparks, onto his tormentors? No; so, all night, he gripped his glass as tight as he could. The cold lingered and itched on his palms for days. Holding onto things, it seemed, was not so difficult as he’d once believed.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

COASTAL VENTURE

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader.

Summary: RAFE SAVES Y/N WHEN SHE IS PUSHED OVERBOARD OFF COASTAL VENTURE

Warnings: Drowning (not dead), rescued,CPR, kissing, cuddling, fighting, head injury , swearing etc.

Here I was held captive by the one and only Ward Cameron on the Coastal Venture sailing out to sea away from the OBX. I was trapped in the boiler room where the temperature was rising by the second. He had handcuffed me to the pipe that my back was leaning against. It was a small, dark room and the only light that was seen was from the seam under the door. At this point I was starting to panic, I didn’t want to be here, I was all alone, I wanted Rafe to save me but how could he, he doesn’t even know where I am.

1 Month Before……

Rafe and I had been dating for over a year now and nothing had ever come between us because we wouldn’t let it, we loved each other and would doing anything for each other.

My parents, Rafe and I had been after ‘The Cross of Santo Domingo’ for the last 2 years, never stopped looking. We followed trails which lead us to the Island Room that happened to be at Tanney Hill. Rafe let us in and we started to tear the wallpaper away and uncover the map illustrated on the walls. “Y/N we are so close” my mother says as she smiles at me. As I go to speak, I’m interrupted “What the hell have you done to my house? You have no right to be in here” Ward says angrily as he looks at Rafe and you can see the rage behind his eyes. “Go wait in my office,” Rafe starts to speak but is hit with a slap to his face. Y/N runs to Rafe’s aid and is alsohit with the same response. Ward yells at Rafe to go now and he does, looking back to make sure you were okay. You nod your head at him. 

After that day I saw ward arguing with my father about his cut of the money. I knew that Ward had found out about us looking for the cross and that we were getting closer. Ward was always greedy and wanted more money and power. 

2 weeks on………..

(Y/N parents died in car crash)

After the funeral I received a letter in the mail addressed to the last living Y/L/N relative, I couldn’t open it as tears started to run down my face. Rafe and I had stopped looking for the cross since the accident. However Ward never stopped asking if my parents left any clues to where it could be. He wasn’t going to give up on the only thing that could make him the richest man on the land. As time past I started to be more motivated than ever to find this cross and that's when I opened the letter.

When my parents past away they left me a coded message and coordinates to a church called Freedman’s Assembly of God, where the The Cross was hidden in the architecture of the building. “OMG…….. I can’t believe they actually found it”. Y/n yelled. “I can’t believe we found it y/n” said Rafe. Y/n ran and jumped into Rafe’s arms and kissed him. 

We arranged for a truck to come and pick up The Cross and take it back to Tanney Hill. When we got back to Rafe’s house we had the cross stashed in the guest house and went to decode this message my parents left me. I read the message and automatically start to hyperventilate. “Y/n what's wrong? Talk to me, I’m right here baby” He says holding my hands in his. I look up at him “He’s going to kill me…….I’m going to die” I say while tears start to form in my eyes. Rafe looked so confused as to what I said. “What are you talking about y/n, who’s going to kill you?” Rafe tried to calm me down by rubbing circles on back. “Ward is going to kill me, I’m the only one who can open the cross!” I breathed out. “The letter says to open the cross they need the blood of a Y/L/N ancestor.” I say quietly so no-one but Rafe hears me. Rafe can’t believe what he hears as he stands up with his heads to his head and starts to pace back and forth. As I watch him, I bring my legs up to my chin and put my head in my hands and start to cry. 

Wards POV

Just getting home from work I see four men leave the guest house and wonder what they could possibly be doing on my property. As I watch them get into the truck and drive out, I go into the guest house and see ‘The Cross of Santo Domingo’ leaning against the wall. “OMG they found it……………..I must have it, my son wouldn’t know what to do with it, it's better in my hands than theirs”. I say to myself. I enter the house and go upstairs to make arrangements about stealing the cross when I overhear Rafe and Y/N talking. “I’m the only one who can open the cross, a blood sacrifice is needed.” I ran down stairs into my office and called a pick up truck to have the cross transported on to a freight ship. “I need to transport at 6 foot cross it the next 24 hrs and my family will be onboard but not apart for the manifest.” I say to the captain of the ship. 

The Night Before…………

As I sleep beside Rafe in bed all I can think about is Ward killing me to make himself richer. I toss and turn all night until I finally wake up and go down stairs to get a bottle of water. It's about 1:30am and I hear people outside talking. I walk to the window and that's when I see the cross being lifted into a wooden box and driving away. I go to run and tell Rafe, as I turn around I see Ward holding a damp cloth “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.” That's the last thing I remember until I woke up on the ship.

Rafe woke in the morning and saw a note on the pillow “Dear Rafe, I'm so sorry I had to leave this way. I could never fully trust that you weren’t going to kill me in my sleep and sell me out to Ward. I suppose I never really loved you enough to try and work this out. Please don’t look for me as I never want to see you again , Y/N.” Rafe’s heart melted and he got so angry that he punched a hole in the wall. Ward came through the door and said to Rafe that we were leaving in an 1hr and that he had to pack a bag. Rafe obliged and started to pack. 

Ward drove the family to the docks and told them to get on the ship. Sarah not wanting to leave was forced on to the ship, as Rose, Wheezie and rafe followed behind. “My family I have with us a The Cross and it ours to keep or sell if I wish” ward said proudly and smirked. “I’m glad Y/N isn’t here for this” Rafe thought to himself. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was on the ship. As I sit it the heated box handcuffed to the pipe I can feel my lungs starting to close from the lack of fresh air. I start hitting my handcuffs against the pipe to get attention from anyone. I hear someone walking past outside and I call out “help me, help me please!” The door opens and I see Sarah Cameron, she looks back at me and comes to help me escape. “What are you doing here? What happened to you? She says. “Ward kidnapped me, he’s going to kill me to open the cross” Her eyes open in shock at how here father would kill an innocent person just for another dollar in his pocket. “There's a lifeboat, I saw it when I got on, I can help you get off. Your like my sister y/n im not letting him kill you” she said as she helped me up and hugged me. 

As we make our way to the back of the boat we approached by the captain. He tries to stop us from leaving. He radios ward “I found your daughter and another girl with her, what do you want me to do?” “Don’t let them escape” ward yells. As he goes to respond Sarah hits the captain with a piece of wood. While he’s down Sarah and I run to the lifeboat and wench it down. I go to jump off when Sarah is struck to the back by the bunt end of a machete and fall to the ground. I go to help but then Im hit with a strong force to the side of my head almost knocking me overboard and then placed in a headlock. “I have the two girls, there not going anywhere” he says. Rafe overhears the radio “what is he talking about, what two girls” he yells stepping up to ward. 

Ward and Rose push past Rafe and storm out to the back deck to see y/n almost unconscious and Sarah knocked out. Rafe following rose see the scene before him. Rose runs to Sarah’s side at takes her back inside. “What the Fuck is this?” He says as he goes to help y/n. Ward grabs his son my the shirt and throws him up against the wall “You have been holding out on us, your family. You had the key to the cross this entire time sleeping right beside you and what you forgot to tell me, your father.” He speaks abruptly as Rafe looks into wards eyes “I have no idea what the fuck your talking about.” He yells, this captures your attention and you try to free yourself, not getting much luck. Ward turns around and looks at me. “Any last words Miss Y/L/N” he laughs. “You’ll never get what you want” I say before making enough space to undo the hold around me and go to hit the captain with his machete. As I swing my arm around he clocks his fist into my head I stumble back and he pushes me overboard, hitting the water face down. “nooooooooo, what have you done” ward screams running over to the side to see y/n lifeless body floating in the water. “Y/N” Rafe yells sprinting over to see her. Rafe jumps overboard and swims over to y/n and flips here over. rafe lightly hits my face to get me to wake up. “Y/n wake up baby, wake up. Don’t die on me, I need you to wake up please wake up. I love you y/n.” My eyes slowly open and I feel rafe’s arms holding me up from the water. “Rafe” I say nearly above a whisper. “You saved me” “I love you y/n” “I love you too Rafe.” Ward shouts from the deck “you have made a huge mistake boy, your done, your not getting a single dollar, your cut off. You’ll have nothing to come back to if you ever survive out here.” Rafe shouts back “I have all I need right here and you better hope I never see you again, because if I do, your a dead man.”

And with that ward walks away leaving us to drown in the water while the ship gets further and further away. “What now” I say. Rafe has been trending water while desperately trying to keep me above him for at least an hour now and I can see him getting tired. He looks at me and signals his head to an island he can see in the distance. We finally make it to shore and I feel the tiny grains of sand between my fingers. I turn around and lay flat on the shoreline. 

The sun starts to set in the west, and rafe carries me bridal style and places me next to the fire that he built from scratch. He comes and sits behind me handing me the shirt off his back to keep me warm. I feel like I’m in a freezer, my body is shaking from the hit I took back on the boat. I can see my vision starting to blur, as my eyes start to close I hear rafe speak up “I’m sorry what happened to you baby, when I saw your letter I was so hurt and angry that you had just left without a goodbye. But when I saw you there held against your will, I knew my father had brought you here to kill you.” I turned my head to the side and looked into his eyes. My fingers intertwined with his. “When I was in the boiler room I never thought id see you again and tell you how much I love you…………….I love you Rafe as much as my heart can take. “I love you Y/N and no-one will ever take you away from me again.” Rafe said as he leaned down and his lips melted into mine. i kissed him back sliding my tongue through his teeth and deepening the kiss. His hand was on my face, and the other was on the back of my head. He slowly withdraw his face and held me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his biceps and leaned my head on his bare chest as we both watch the fire burn. Rafe rubs soft circles into back to comfort me and I can feel my heart starting to slow. I feel my body slowly shutting down and my eyes getting heavy and my blinking starts getting longer and longer, until my eyes finally close.  

(Play while reading last paragraph)

The fire begins to subside and Rafe lifts me off to put more wood on the fire. He returns back to me to find me as cold as ice, he tries to wake me up, although I do not. “Y/N, baby are you okay, your freezing?. Y/n, baby, hey wake up.” He cry out. He turned my body onto my back and leaned over me to feel my pulse. He felt nothing. He tilted my head back and opened my mouth, he placed his hands over my heart and started to push to revive me. “Please don’t leave me y/n, I need you, I can’t live without you” he said as he gave me CPR giving me two breaths of air and repeating this five times. On the final breath, I gasped for air and saw tears dropping from his chin as he had his forehead against mine. “What happened” I say bringing my hand to the back of his neck. Rafe lifts his head at looks at me “You were unconscious for over three minutes and I…………….I saved your life baby!” He said as he lifts me up and he hugs me into his chest. “Never do that to me again, I can’t lose you y/n you're all I have” he say as looks into my eyes. “Your all I have too” I say hugging him back and placing my head in the crook of his neck. “Seems like I owe you one Cameron” I laugh. “Just don’t die on me and we can call it even” he smirks and kiss me on the forehead as we watch the sunrise together. 

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[iliveiloveiwrite]

Fallin’ For You // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I saw that your requests were open I was wondering if you could do something with Anthony x reader maybe the reader gets Injured somehow or something? Just fluffy worried Anthony really 😂 - @nicole198205

A/N: More mindless fluff! I’m sorry it isn't more substantial, but I had my first covid vaccine yesterday and I can barely move my arm. Anyway, I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Warnings: female reader, injuries, minor injuries, nothing overly serious, worried Anthony. 

Word count: 1.9k

For all of the education allowed to women of your station, even your governess would be shocked at the litany of swear words leaving your lips as you do your best to limp across the stretching, green lawn of Aubrey Hall. 

A morning walk. A lovely, morning walk where you could observe the grounds of your marital home – that was all you wanted, all you had really planned of your day. You weren’t to know of the tree root sticking up from the ground; its limbs gnarled and mangled as it stretches out across the forest floor. 

You felt something rip as you fell to the ground; your left ankle trapped within the tree root, a pained yelp leaving your lips as you scraped the palms of your hands on the rocks littering the floor. Wounded pride, wounded hands, wounded ankle – you took a quick inventory of your injuries as you let the tears fall in privacy before dragging yourself to your feet, briefly wondering how much more damage you would do to your ankle before making it home.

The closer you get to the grand seat of power of the Bridgerton family, the straighter you force your posture, determined to hide the worst of the pain until safely hidden away in your bedchamber where you could release the waiting sobs and cries of agony. The main door is too far away, and the thought of limping to the heavy wooden doors almost sends you to the floor once again. Instead, you hobble to the side entrance to the kitchen where not even the delicious aroma of shortbread could keep the tears at bay. 

“Lady Bridgerton!” The cook, Mrs. Black gasps as she catches sight of your muddied gown and the pained expression on your face. “Are you okay? Should you be walking?”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Black,” You smile painfully, attempting to ignore the piercing pain spreading through your foot and ankle. 

“You’ll tell me anything!” She cries, flapping her teatowel at you. “I’m going to get Jenkins. Do not move,” She warns, fixing you with an unimpressed but concerned look.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” You admit, leaning against the wooden frame of the doorway for support, relieving your injured ankle of your body weight. 

You let your eyes slip closed, letting yourself fall into the pain for a single moment, slowing your breathing as you feel the first tears slip down your cheeks.

“Lady Bridgerton!” Jenkins’ concerned shout has you opening your eyes, meeting the aged grey eyes of the butler that had looked after you since the first days of your marriage to Anthony. His eyes run over you quickly, assessing the situation with a speed decades in services has gifted him. “Do you think you can walk to my office?” He asks quietly; his voice almost a whisper. 

Mrs. Black answers for you; her Yorkshire accent becoming thicker the more upset she becomes. “Walk! The poor girl can barely stand! Walk, my great aunt,” She mutters, rolling her eyes as she settles her hands on her hips. 

Jenkins closes his eyes for a count of three; letting Mrs. Black have her rant before shaking his head with exasperated fondness. “Mrs. Russell, Mrs. Black – would you please help Lady Bridgerton to my office.”

The order is given, and the respected butler turns away, heading to his office to grab a chair and something for you to rest your ankle on. 

Mrs. Russell and Mrs. Black each take an arm, holding you steady as you hobble your way to the butler’s office. 

The room smells like old paper and tobacco; it puts you at ease as you settle into the chair already set up for you in the middle of the room. Jenkins remains close to his desk; his eyes fixed on your ever swelling ankle. 

“There you are,” Mrs. Black whispers softly. 

“Thank you,” You whisper to the beloved cook.

“It’s no issue, my lady. I’ll bake you something special and sweet for dessert tonight for managing to walk back to the house in your state.”

You smile at the cook; your bottom lip beginning to wobble as she squeezes your arm once before taking her leave. Sighing painfully, you wince as you adjust the ankle resting on the small, green ottoman. 

“What happened, my lady?” Jenkins asks, remaining close to his desk. 

“It’s all so silly,” You begin, “I was on my morning walk as I told you about this morning over breakfast with Anthony. Anyway, I was just beyond the tree line when I must not have looked, and I tripped over a tree root. I couldn’t simply stay there, lying on the floor so I made my way back to the house, but the main door is so far away. The kitchen was closer and I’m so glad because you got to me quicker.”

Jenkins nods once; accepting your story for what it was: the truth. He kneels down beside your injured ankle, meeting your gaze. “May I?”

You nod once, biting your lip to keep from whimpering pain as Jenkins makes quick work of examining your injury.  “I’m going to have to get the Viscount, my lady,” Jenkins sighs, his gaze meeting that of the Head Housekeeper, Mrs. Russell.

“Are you sure?” You question, not wanting to pull Anthony away from his work. You try not to wince as you move your ankle to the left and the right. “See!” You gesture, “I’m moving it just fine.”

Jenkins shakes his head, doing his best to hide a smile at your stubbornness. “With all due respect, my lady, I can see the bruise beginning to bloom. I don’t think you’ll be walking for a few days.”

You sink further into the chair, groaning. “I had so many plans for this week,” You whine, covering your face with your hands as you fight off the first wave of tears. “That damned tree root!”

Jenkins blinks once, twice, three times at your use of such language before releasing an amused chuckle. Mrs. Russell shakes her head at the sight, stepping further into the room. The aged Housekeeper settles a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly before uttering, “I shall go alert the Viscount. You do not move from this chair.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Russell,” You promise, flashing a watery smile at the woman as she leaves the room. 

Jenkins’ hand settles on your knee as more tears threaten to fall. “It’s alright, my lady. We’ve all injured ourselves.”

You sniff, drying your eyes with the caring butler’s handkerchief. Jenkins’ shifts back to his desk; resting on the edge of it as he awaits the arrival of the Viscount, knowing full well that Anthony would soon be flying through the door to his office. 

------------

“(Y/N)!” The Viscount all but shouts as he rushes down the stairs of Aubrey Hall. Mrs. Russell had explained your injuries, but it had done very little to quash the unadulterated worry settling deep within Anthony’s gut. 

“(Y/N)!” Anthony bellows once more, rushing through the large kitchen to Jenkins’ office where he finds you settled on a chair with your left ankle propped up on a small, dark green ottoman. 

“Darling,” He gasps; the breath rushing from him in one movement. He falls to his knees beside you; his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “What happened?”

“I feel so foolish,” You whisper, voice breaking as fresh tears begin to line your eyes. 

Anthony’s thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “An impossibility. You could never be such a thing.”

“I fell over a tree root, Anthony. Not exactly graceful.”

He clamps his lips shut, determined not to let the relieved laughter fall from his lips. Anthony had only known such fear upon Mrs. Russell’s announcement of your injury once before; the anguished cries of his younger sister Eloise, the one to find their father dead in the garden. To see you sitting in Jenkins’ office, the only injuries being your ankle, scraped hands and your pride, Anthony could have wept in relief. 

“You don’t have to be graceful,” Anthony whispers, “You just have to be okay.”

“I’m okay now that you’re here,” You whisper, leaning in at the same time as your husband. 

Anthony kisses you as if there wasn’t an audience at the door. Unhurried, Anthony holds you close, his hands moving from your cheeks to your neck before settling on your shoulders. 

He breaks the kiss; dropping one, two, three quick kisses to your mouth before pulling away completely. “We’ll call the doctor tomorrow morning. For now, I want you to rest. Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”

“You can’t carry me all the way to our room!” You laugh, “I’ll have to hop part of the way.”

“Not a chance, darling.”

“I can do it,” You state, crossing your arms stubbornly.

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying you won’t get the chance because I’ll be carrying you the whole way.”

“Anthony, my love, that’s too far.”

“Watch me, darling.”

With that, Anthony scoops you into his arms, your head resting comfortably against his strong shoulder as he begins the climb to your shared bedroom.

-----------

The bed feels close to heaven as you settle on top of the covers; the lush fabric greeting you like an old friend as you sit back against the headboard. Anthony grabs the first pillow he can reach, gingerly lifting your ankle and apologising profusely when you wince in pain as he tucks the pillow underneath. 

“Will you need help changing, my lady?” Your Ladies’ Maid, Annie, asks, having followed Jenkins and Mrs. Russell through the house as Anthony carried you. 

Your husband answers for you. “No, thank you, Annie. Take the rest of the day off, I’ll look after Lady Bridgerton.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Annie answers, curtseying before leaving the room; Jenkins and Mrs. Russell following.

You fix your husband with an interested look. “What?” He asks, a smirk beginning to grace his lips.

“You’re going to look after me, are you?”

“What kind of husband would be if I didn’t?”

“Touché,” You answer with a laugh, “So you’re going to get me changed?”

“As if I haven’t undressed you before,” Anthony smirks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he begins to undo his cravat. 

“Anthony!” You laugh, throwing one of the many pillows on your bed at your beloved husband. He catches it with ease, throwing it to one side before crawling up the length of the bed, taking care not to jostle your ankle. 

Anthony props himself up by his elbow as he gazes up at you. Your tears have long since dried, but your eyes still show the pain you keenly feel. Anthony frowns; if he could take away your pain, he would – he’s adamant that you should never feel an ounce of pain, but even he couldn’t help the occasional sprained ankle.

“You scared me half to death this morning,” He whispers, reaching for your hand. 

“It’s a sprained ankle, my love. We’ll summon the doctor first thing tomorrow like you said and he’ll confirm our suspicions.”

“Still,” Anthony breathes, bringing your joined hands up to his lips upon which he places a multitude of kisses.

“I have no plans on leaving you prematurely,” You promise, reaching to stroke a hand down his cheek. At the last moment, Anthony turns his face, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes at the feel of your hand on his cheek; he inhales the familiar, comforting scent of your floral perfume. Rose standing out amongst the rest; he lets the scent take him somewhere calmer as his heart finally begins to slow down. 

“No more walking the grounds alone,” He states, eyebrows furrowing with the severity of his words. 

“I won’t need to if you join me,” You tease, “Think of all the trouble we could cause in the great outdoors.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz @iammirrorball @writeroutoftime @joyfullymulti @nuttytani

Anthony Bridgerton taglist: @multifandomfix

[rogueonestan]

shereshoy

shereshoy - wanting to live everyday to its fullest and more

word count: 2.3k

pairing: the mandalorian (din djarin) x reader

summary: din reveals his true feelings for you through an anecdote from his childhood.

masterlist

Faint laughter and the sound of the soft splashes of the nearby lake are what calls Din’s name.

So when he returns back to the Crest after a quick supply run to find you and the kid enjoying yourselves, he can’t help but smile underneath his helmet. 

The sight isn’t much to see. You’re laying down on the grassy floor as the green little baby is currently running around as he’s trying to catch something. The baby will leap towards his prey, only for the prey to run away, resulting in the baby giggling as you follow suit. To others, it may not be much, but to Din, it’s everything. It’s been such a long time since he’s experienced this kind of feeling before. He can’t exactly put his feelings into words, but it’s a feeling that he never wants to go away. It’s a feeling that he used to feel all the time with his family back on Aq Vetina before he was taken in by the Mandalorians. It’s a feeling he's associated with the life that was stripped from him. A life that he always dreamt that he would be able to get back someday. 

The closer he gets to where you and the baby are, the more his heart soars. The baby continually is running around, enjoying himself, as your eyes remain close as you take everything in. You don’t even notice his return until he makes himself known. 

“Enjoying ourselves?” 

You didn’t realize that you were in such a trance until you’re greeted with the familiar ‘T’ visor that you’ve familiarized yourself with over the past few months. The tranquility of your surroundings are what made you first lose yourself in the moment. From the baby’s giggles to hearing the birds sing to the soft waves hitting against the rocks in the nearby lake, it was easy to lose track of time. 

“You’re back.” A soft hum comes from Din in response as you continue, “how was your trip?”

“Good. There’s a local town that’s a few miles up north and I was able to stock up on a few things that we were running low on.” Now it’s your return to mimic your partner and hum in response, “it’s a nice little town, you would enjoy it. Maybe all three of us could go there tomorrow.”

“I would like that. Were you looking for anything in particular while you were there?”

“No.” Yes, but it’s not like he would tell you that- not yet, anyways. 

“Do you want lunch? I was just thinking of making some.”

“You stay- I’ll go make it.” 

A few rebuttals leave your lips, saying that you can do it and pointing out that he just returned, but Din ignores your pleas, insisting that you continue resting and watch over the kid.

As Din leaves to go back inside the Crest to put his purchases away, what makes him walk a little bit faster is the laughter that comes from both you and the baby. How in the galaxy he was able to be blessed with a life as good as his, Din will never know. After all of the ugly decisions he’s made in the past, he’s one of the last people who deserves a life as great as his. To be able to wake up every single day and know that he has a new family that will support him through anything. To have someone as devoted and generous, traits that his own mother had, is something that he thinks about as he makes the three of you lunch.

The lunch that Din ends up making is something that you’ve had on multiple occasions before, just a stew made out of the items that he picked up from market earlier, but it’s the company of Din and the soft breeze brushing against your cheek that makes it so much better. When Din comes out with the two bowls of food, a smile immediately appears on your face as the spices from food linger in the air. The feeling of fresh air that you got used to now is mixed with the scent of Din’s cooking. It’s not often that you get to eat home cooked meals, let alone meals made by Din, but it’s a welcome rarity. Din’s cooking isn’t the best that you’ve ever had, but his skills improve each time he prepares food for you.

The spices in the stew are a bit intense at first. You nearly choked on the pure flavor of peppers that surprised you at first, but the more you eat, more like devour, your food, the more you enjoy it.

“How is it?” He asks. 

When you look over at him, you notice that he doesn’t have a bowl of food in front of him, giving the baby the other bowl, as he studies your actions. Nearly half of the food is already gone. 

“It’s really good, Din.” With a smile on your face, you cover one of your hands as you take another bite.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head at him. The food that’s in your mouth is a little bit more difficult to chew as you try to fight the smile that’s threatening to appear on your face. The idea of not only him making lunch for you, but also wanting to know your thoughts on it as well is what makes you smile.

The hand that covered your mouth a moment ago covers your partner’s hand. 

The warmth that radiates from the palm of your hand is the same warmth that fills Din’s body. The transition of your relationship going from friendly to romantic is a recent change, so the feeling of your skin touching his is a new one. Foreign but welcomed. 

“It’s much better than the last meal you made for us.” A chuckle leaves his modulator.

The last time Din cooked a meal for the three of you was only a few weeks ago, but it was so disastrous. After seeing how tired you were by watching the baby for a few days, Din offered to keep an eye on him as you used the refresher. Once you finished, the sight you returned to was not what you expected. Din wanted to surprise you with a warm meal, but instead of spices from the food lingering in the air, the smell of smoke welcomed you once you finished what you were doing in the refresher. As you rushed out, you saw that Din was struggling to look over the baby and cook simultaneously. In summary, you ended up eating dinner from the local town that night. 

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“I never said it was. I’m just saying that you’re getting better. Who knows, maybe next time you’ll be able to cook a meal that doesn’t have anything to do with burning.”

“I didn’t burn this one.”

“Tell that to my mouth.”

“Oh.”

“It’s still good though!” You reassure him, interlacing your fingers with him as you give his hand a soft squeeze, “just, don’t go as heavy with the pepper next time, my love.” 

“Hmm.”

The baby feels the same way of Din’s cooking as you do because half of his meal is on his face as he takes gigantic mouthfuls. How he hasn’t choked on his food yet is a miracle. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Later.”

“Din-“

“I promise, ner cyare, I’ll eat later.”

As much as you hate to scold him, you drop the subject. Din isn’t the best when it comes to looking after himself, but he’s getting better at it thanks to you. You know that he would never break a promise he’s made to you. 

“Well, then I guess we should start heading back inside.” You say as you lay your free hand behind you to support yourself, but before you’re able to, Din’s hand squeezes yours.

“Cyar’ika, if it’s alright with you, I would like to stay out here for a little bit longer.”

You nod your head as your body goes back into its relaxed position. You’re not one to say no to spend a little more time with him, but you really want to make sure that he, too, is able to enjoy the food that he worked so hard on.

“Whatever you want, Din.”

Giving your hand one final squeeze, he tries to force out the words that have been stuck in his throat ever since he returned, but he still doesn’t have enough courage to say them.

“I lied earlier, well, kind of.” 

“What do you mean?”

“When I left earlier, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular when I was in town, but supplies weren't the only thing that I got.”

There’s more that he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it. He knows exactly what he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“When I was younger, my mother, she-“ Din cuts himself off. The right words just can't seem to leave his mouth. But that’s okay because you’re more than patient as you wait for him to continue on. Being so open and vulnerable about his feelings and thoughts is very new for Din, but you would wait for an eternity just to hear what he has to say. 

The soft yet reassuring squeeze of your hand is what makes him continue, “Something that my father used to do to show his love for my mother was to surprise her with gifts when he got home from work. We didn’t have much money to live off of so he didn’t do it that often, but it always brought a smile to my mother’s face whenever he did. 

And my mother did the same. I remember helping her pick out a gift for my dad. It was something that we would always look forward to and it was a tradition between the two of them. Once a month they would surprise each other with a gift, the other not knowing when it would happen, and it’s something that I would like to do as well, with you.” 

The last of his words barely managed to come through his modulator. Just thinking about his parents brings tears to his eyes, let alone telling a story about them. It’s been such a long time since he’s revealed something as special as a memory of his parents that he reflects on a lot. Every time he’s thought of them lately, it’s always been of the last day that he got to spend with them. But maybe now, he’ll be able commemorate them by carrying on one of their traditions with you. 

Like Din, tears brim your eyes. Not only is this the first time Din revealed his true feelings to you by saying the word ‘love’, but he also revealed something to you that no one else in the entire galaxy knows. You knew that he harbored the same feelings as you do (he never spoke them outright), but revealing such an intimate thing from his childhood just shows how much he loves you.

Not only did he share a story from his childhood, but he wants to entwine it with your lives.

“I would love that.”

“You would?”

“More than anything.”

Suddenly, Din reaches in one of his many pockets to fish something out. Within a matter of seconds, a small mesh bag is in his free hand. The white color of the bag stands out by the contrast of Din’s dark glove.

When you take the small bag from his hand, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. In all of the time you’ve spent with him, you don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous around Din.

Gently pulling on the strings that have secured the gift inside, you let go of Din’s hand to take a peek of what’s inside.

A small gasp leaves your lips as you look inside. With one of your hands out, his gift to you lays in the middle of your palm. 

“I know it’s not much, but it reminded me of you.” Your focus is entirely on what he has given you. What lays in your palm is a simple gold ring. Not much can be said about it: it has a simple band, no jewels or anything, but it has a textured feeling to it by the years it’s lived. 

“It’s perfect.”

“So you like it?”

“I love it, thank you.” You say as you admire the way the ring reflects off of sunlight. When it’s on your finger, it may not look like much, but you’ll be able to remember this afternoon because of the ring. You’ll be able to remember the way you’re feeling, how much you love your partner, and how he shared such a big part of himself with a simple ring.

“If I had known, I would’ve gotten you something as well.”

“Getting to wake up by your side and call you mine is the best gift I could ever want.”

His name leaves your lips as you groan at his cheesiness. 

Din’s hand tugs on yours to pull you closer to him, but before you’re able to, the baby that’s been almost radio silent this entire time finally decides to make his appearance as his hand pulls at Din’s sleeve. 

“We’ll continue this later.” He says as he scoops up the little baby and makes his way back to the ship.

You can’t hear what he’s saying to the baby, but your heart soars at the sight of your partner shifting from his romantic confession to his role as a father-like figure to the little one. Just thinking about what your partner meant is what makes you quickly pick up the bowls you used for lunch and follow your partner inside.

taglist (i don’t have one yet but let me know if you want to be added):

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 3: Laoshi Mao

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written by 

AJ Dunn

It had been two years now since Adrien moved to Shanghai. At first, time seemed to go by so slowly as he was waisted his days at home and went out at night to train. However, after the first few months, he began going insane. He decided to sit and watch Chao Sifu as he taught the younger kids the same exercises he was mastering at night. He held several classes throughout the day, some for the smaller children, and others for the more advanced kids. However, he never saw groups of adults. 

“You might as well change your clothes young Adrien, and join me.” Chao Sifu said without missing a single movement. They were practicing outside under the blossoms of the over-hanging trees. Adrien nodded and jogged off to change his clothes, he left them here so he didn’t have to carry a bag around town. He returned to the group and Sifu motioned for him to take the lead in front of the kids. He knew the exercises well and began right where Sifu left off. He watched the kids’ faces and they moved in sync with him. He never realized how much fun it would be to participate in a group activity like this. He once gave his Chinese class lessons in fencing and vise versa, but this was something else. They looked to him as if he were the Sifu. His heart was thrilled. 

Sifu walked around the group inspecting the movements of the children and corrected the ones who were out of step. Adrien began showing up every day at the same time and spending almost the entire day either leading the class or walking around helping the kids who had more trouble. He especially loved working with the smallest of the children. One of which, a little girl, reminded him a lot of a younger Marinette. She was even just as clumsy. Sifu didn’t have patience for her so Adrien would have her step out of the group and he would practice solo with her several feet away from the rest of the group so that if she did fall, he would be the only one she’d trip on. 

The days began to go by faster as Adrien took up more chores at the temple including cleaning. After two years, Sifu allowed him to take on more chores and even lead a couple of classes on his own. Sifu seemed to be tiring of the physical labor as his body began to give out. Adrien was still a silent partner in the Graham de Vanily company and even insisted that he receives reports regarding new designs before they were approved. Many new talented designers were beginning to blossom under the new brand of the company, but he wondered why Felix never offered Marinette a position despite her many successful designs that were sponsored by the company. 

“She keeps refusing,” Felix answered as they spoke on the phone. “I even went personally to her apartment to offer her a full position.”

“You went to her apartment?” Adrien felt prickles in his skin. “Where does she live, who does she live with?” 

“Wo wo slow down lover boy. If you want those details call her yourself.” Felix was irritated with Adrien’s jealousy but he went out of his way to antagonize it knowing how much it affected him. “Look, I understand why you can’t be here, but she can’t.” 

“I know I know.” Adrien sighed

“You don’t get it,” Felix’s frustrations could be clearly heard. “You’re the reason she keeps turning me down.” 

“Turning you down?” Adrien began to fume.

“For the job offer,” Felix wasn’t playing now. “It’s not like I brought her roses and offered her my hand. Get control of your emotions.”

“You’re right cousin.” Adrien sighed dropping heavily onto the couch. “I have been keeping my mind occupied with things here so I don’t think about everyone there.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Felix sounded concerned. “Are you accomplishing what you went there to do?” 

“Yeah, I think I am. I am teaching children martial arts now and, I can cook pretty much any Chinese dish you could order at a restaurant.” He laughed. 

“So… are you thinking about teaching children when you return?” Felix asked skeptically.

“Why not, I used to be the best fencer in my class and even gave lessons to some of the least talented students I met.” He remembered the time Marinette tried out. He laughed again. She wasn’t bad for being such a klutz. “I have to go now though, it’s time to meet up with the Sifu for dinner. He clicked the phone off and was about to stand when his phone rang. It was Cheng Sifu. 

“I don’t need that nightly order you always deliver each night,” he said swiftly. A nervous tone in his voice.

“Is everything alright Sifu?” Adrien wondered if he should use Plagg to get there quickly despite the sun still being up. 

“No no, don’t come everything is okay, I just have family in from out of town.” Adrien’s breath froze in his lungs. He could hear laughter coming from the other end of the line. He knew there would always be a chance of Marinette and her parents visiting, Cheng was her great uncle. Adrien sulked as he set the phone back down. He stood up as if his body moved him. His thoughts weren’t his own as he stormed out of the apartment. Plagg zipped quickly so he wound’t be left behind. Even on the metro, he couldn’t sort his thoughts. What was he doing. He was going to see her. What if she saw him? How could he explain, he had been gone for 4 years now, with no contact with any of them. What would she say? How could he face her after what his father did to her, to all of them. Marinette had been the only one out of their entire class, and well school to not have been akumatized. 

He couldn’t stop his thought process even as he got off the bus by the market. He lifted his hoodie over his head wondering if it would be better to dawn his ‘other’ hoodie. So far Cat Noir, had not been seen in Shanghai, not since his first night here. Even Hei Mao was a blur in the night. Despite the fact his new costume was an exact replica of hers, he could always pass it off as someone playing dress up. But an adult? In Shanghai, in broad daylight with no festival or events taking place? Adrien stopped outside the restaurant. He spied the very back table, the one Cheng Sifu reserved for his family and special guests. He could see her laughing along with his mother and father. Her long midnight hair hung loose below her shoulders, her smile radiated as her eyes gleamed from the joy. 

Adrien couldn’t move as he stood frozen. He saw her look up as if she could sense someone watching him. He dropped to the ground. Toying with his shoe laces so as to not look suspicious to the passerbys. Was it safe to stand up? Did she see him? He slowly stood not looking into the window, but just as his eyes rose over the window sill he could see what she had been looking at. It was Fie, a friend they had made here when she had by chance visited her uncle for the first time and gotten lost. 

Adrien sighed and took his leave. What had he been thinking? Toying with disaster. He couldn’t bare to feel the shame his father placed upon him. He was glad that at least Marinette had escaped the fate of becoming evil, she was far too good for that. But the horror of watching everyone you care about wreak havok on Paris, not to mention on the various places they had traveled abroad. Even here in Shanhai. 

Adrien had made his way back to the temple. He couldn’t find Chao Sifu anywhere. He slipped his sneakers off and slipped through the living areas searching for him. Finally he sat on the floor outside his masters bedroom and knocked on the door. He could hear a low muffled voice.

“Come in Adrien.” the voice was raspy and harsh. He slid the door open and crawled inside closing the door behind him. Chao layed on his futon. He was pale and weak. A woman came from the bathroom placing a cold rag on his head. “You won’t be trained by me any longer young Adrien.” He coughed into his napkin. Adrien could see the red. 

“He won’t make it through the night.” the woman said then left the room. 

“I am far too old for this world.” Chao said. “I am over 300 years old now.” the shock wore on his shoulders. He was even older than Master Fu.

“How long do guardians live?” Adrien asked quietly “Master Fu was nearly 200 before he surrendered the miracle box.” they hadn’t ever talked about the miracle box or who had it. All Adrien knew was that Ladybug had it and he didnt know who she was. 

“Fu?” Chao said. “He was but a child when the temple disappeared,” he coughed again. “Being bound to a Kwami box preserves our life span, but we slowly fade after we relinquish it.” He hadn’t seen Master Fu since he had been akumatized, which came after he had handed over the miracle box and lost his memory of it. 

“Chao Sifu? how do you have memory of these things if you relinquished your box”

“I was a grand master, I governed them all!” he hacked and turned on his side away from Adrien. “When the temple was restored, I sent the guardians out to find the missing boxes and any holders who may have passed along their miraculous’” more hacking.

Adrien wanted to know more about the order of the miraculous but he knew, now was not the right time for that. He would sit with Chao through the night. 

The dawn came as Adrien saw cross legged on the floor beside the futon. He had been meditating all night. He felt the fatigue as his eyes slid open welcoming the sun. He saw the Sifu looking up at him. A haze growing over his eyes. 

“There is nothing more I can teach you.” the voice was small but understood. “You came to me a Xuesheng, and now I leave you, Laishi Mao.” His eyes drifted closed as his body went limp. Adrien swallowed hard in his throat as he continued to sit there unable to move. The woman came in a few minutes later. 

“He is gone.” Adrien whispered barely able to breath, his heart heavy with hurt. He wanted to cry, he wanted to be held tightly as he cried. He suddenly missed his partner. Despite her lack of reciprocated feelings, he missed her the most right now. Her arms were always available to him when he needed her the most. But he knew, he had abandoned her. Tears began to well up in his eyes as the woman covered his face with the blanket. Adrien stood up and left the room. 

Back at his apartment Adrien was silent as he moved about the apartment. Classes would be canceled today. He went to the bathroom and took a shower. Marinette was in town, and his Sifu was gone. He dialed up Cheng Sifu.

“I uh, I need to see you.” he choked. Standing in the seating area, a towel wrapped around his waist. “Today.” 

“I will come see you.” Chao said. Her voice could be heard in the background. A voice he would never forget. Especially after she confessed her love for him on the day of graduation. He had just showed up at the school, she crashed into him at the top of the stairs, a common occurrence. Standing there for the longest moment before she spoke. His mind couldn’t process what she had told him. His heart stalled in his chest and he could’t say a word. Not that he didn’t have feelings for her, just that she had always said she didn’t like him like that. He swore her love was for Luka, and maybe part of it was. 

“Thank you Sifu.” He said hanging up the phone. There was a knock at the door. Adrien peered through the door. It was a bell boy. He slid the chain and oppended the door. 

“This was sent for you.” the man handed him a suit bag, like one from the dry cleaners only this was fancier. 

“Thank you.” Adrien said closing the door. He carried the hung garment to his bedroom and tossed it on the bed. Pacing back and forth as his heart skipped a beat. 

“Well what is it?” Plagg asked flying out from where ever he had been hiding. The logo on the bag was clearly from the temple. His heart throttled like the engine of a sports car in his chest as he unzipped the garment bag. It was a simple garment. The shirt was long and black with dark red trim. The pants matched. Adrien pulled it out and slipped the pants on first. The cuffs came up slightly above his ankles as is the design. He performed a couple high kicks, Side to side and front. He kicked back knocking the lamp off his night stand. 

“Carefull where you kick you almost hit me.” Plagg said. Adrien laughed.

“We’ve been hit by our own cataclysm, I think you can take a kick.” Plagg scowled at him. He picked up the top. It opened in the the front and wore like a robe. He slipped his arms into the sleeves pulling it closed around his waist. He slid the sash off the rung of the hanger and tied it around his waist holding the top closed. Sifu had taught him how to wear it. He slipped on the matching shoes that lay in the bottom of the garment bag. He went into the bathroom to inspect his appearance. The top had slits up the sides for movement freedom. It didn’t move at all as he kicked and punched moving his arms around infront of the mirror. 

“It’s not as good as your OTHER suit.” Plagg said jealous of the new look. “Even your Marinette style is better than this one.”

“No argument there.” Adrien smiled. “I’ve never had a civilian uniform before.” Another knock at the door came. Adrien greeted the bell boy who was escorting several well dressed men. Adrien held the door open for them. He waited for one to offer his hand before shaking it, as was customary. He motioned for them to sit in the seating area and they did. 

“We have come to deliver you news of Chao.” One spoke. “As you may already know he passed on this morning.” he pulled a manila envelope from his satchel and held it in both hands. “He had these prepared for you awhile ago.�� he handed the packet to Adrien with both hands, so Adrien accepted it with both hands. “Please open it now.” the men waited as Adrien pulled the stack of papers from the envelope. 

“Last will & testament?” Adrien frowned and looked up at them. 

“You shall become the soul heir to the temple grounds, the school and all it’s contents.” one began to read from his copy of the forms. You will take up his place as Laoshi to the children and carry on his teachings.” It was a great honor to have bestowed on a person. Adrien couldn’t speak as he watched the man read through the forms. “There shall be no classes until the end of mourning.” with that the men stood up. Adrien stood up and escorted them to the door. A call came in on his phone. It was Cheng Sifu.

“I am downstairs, I can not stay long.” he sounded rushed. Adrien hurried down stairs. Plagg tucking himself into the sash. A secret pocket had been crafted into it. 

“Perfect.” Adriem smiled as he made his way to the elevator. Downstairs he found Cheng Sifu sitting on a bench under a tree. He took a seat next to him. 

“You look great.” Cheng said indicating the suit.

“Chao Sifu passed away this morning.” Adrien started. “I was with him went he went.” His tears threatened to appear but he swallowed back scanning the scene for signs of Marinette.

“They are over there.” he motioned to a temple turned museum across the street. She would not be able to see him where he sat. “I am sorry to hear about your Sifu. Adrien, you have done well here.” 

“He gave me the kwoon.” Adrien said flatly. “I am to take over as Laoshi.” 

“Congratulations Adrien.” Cheng beamed with joy for his young student. “You have come along way even in the kitchen. Will you tell me why you came here? Why you avoid the one you love?” Cheng always seemed to know that which even Adrien hadn’t. Adrien knew now that he loved her, but he had always been blinded by his love for Ladybug. Well, he still loved her too, he just thought more maturely about it and having a life with a woman who you didn’t know her real identity made things more difficult. It’s not like they could get married. 

“It’s...comlicated.” Adrien said. “After my father was arrested, I didn’t know who I was. I came here to find that out.” He could have gone anywhere, but why here? “Maybe, here, i still had a connection to her.” he mused. 

“I will call you, when they leave.” Cheng said standing up. “Unless you change your mind then join us for dinner tonight.” His sheepish smile swelled in Adrien’s heart. He was such a wonderful man so caring, and attuitive. 

“You know I won’t. But.” Adrien stood up. “Does she talk about me?”

“I asked her about you last night, and…” he looked across the street. “It made her sad.” it hurt Adrien to think that the thought of him would make such a cheerful girl sad. 

“I will see you soon.” Adrien said. He could see her and her family walking out of the building across the street so he slipped deeper into the shadows as he watched Cheng rejoin his family. He went back to his apartment.  His phone rang. 

“Wow, your popular today.” Plagg said escaping from the sash once the door was secure.

“I need you to meet me in London,” Felix announced in a rush. “Your mother woke up!”

[heavenunderthemoon]

GROWING PAINS- Spencer Reid {CHAPTER 3}

prologue, chapter one, chapter two

DECEMBER 2011

Derek rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulder roughly, his cheeks rosy with an alcoholic glow. The pint of beer in his hand sloshed dangerously, threatening to tip over the side until you righted him, shaking your head at the man's actions.

"Oh come on, not one anecdote of your childhood with our resident genius? I need to know what the kid was like, I mean, did he wear sweater vests as an eight year old? Did he always talk as fast as he does now? How did you two even meet?"

Your eyes rolled playfully.

"Please, Y/N, we've been dying to know what our Boy Wonder was like as a kid." Penelope took another long pull of her drink- probably too long of a pull given the amount that she had already had. Everyone had been drinking that night, which made sense provided that the team was at a bar. The case had ended fairly quickly, the unsub playing right into the waiting hand of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and it had sent you all home within a couple of days.

Penelope had been the one to suggest a bar. Her waiting figure had been posted at the elevator doors, a rather pointed look thrown in your direction, one that screamed 'You can't get out of this even if you tried', and you had looked to Spencer almost immediately. You had noticed yourself doing that these past couple of months because, even with all of the history weighing the two of you down, pulling you like sinking stones to the bottom of the murky, muddy water, the two of you hadn't said much to each other at all. In fact, you could probably count the number of interactions since that first day on one hand.

That first day.

You poked at the olive at the bottom of your brink ruefully, popping it into your mouth, relishing in the remnants of the vodka lying on the glass.

OCTOBER 2011

"Are you just gonna stare at me from behind that fridge door or are you gonna say whatever it is you're thinking in that big brain of yours?"

The coffee in your mug warmed your hand, which worked well for you. Your body was still attempting to find itself accustomed to the dreary weather surrounding Quantico, and you would be damned if you were to say you were entirely de-thawed from that morning's walk in the gloom.

The scent of the stale coffee sloshing around in the navy blue mug was enough to make you want to toss it into the trashcan all together, but you knew good and well enough that you would force yourself to drink it all the same. The coffee you had that morning was wonderful, good enough to make you long for it as you gazed into the mass-produced black coffee from a Mr. Coffee machine that looked like it had seen better days.

Spencer Reid righted himself from where he was previously crouched in a position in which he thought to be rather stealthy.

He had been waiting all morning for the perfect opportunity, waiting an agonizingly long time, sitting through dozens of handshakes, introductions, desk tours, all of which he had stayed painfully silent through. The team had watched as your initial greeting had made Spencer's face pale, how your eyebrows had scrunched at the lack of response from the Reid man, how the two of you seemed to skirt around each other- well, that wasn't entirely fair. You weren't doing the skirting. It was Spencer.

Spencer was the one who was avoiding you like the plague.

And, you had noticed, of course. Just like you had noticed how his eyes had followed you as you stood from your newly claimed desk, empty of any personal markers, void of any personal belongings, and made your way into the break room for what he knew was your second cup of coffee that day. He had seen you grab that first one, he knew that now.

As if you were a magnet, Spencer had found himself standing, his feet directing him toward you as if he had no control over it. No control at all, and it suddenly felt like he was no longer in the FBI building. He was no longer wearing his converse, sweater vest, and FBI badge that sat proudly on his chest. No longer did he feel as though he were 29 year old man, 6 feet tall, 2 inches. No. No, now, he felt as though he were that tiny little child who still hadn't hit their growth spurt. That small child whose best friend was taller than him, a fact he found a bit embarrassing because she was a girl and just about every book he read portrayed men as the tall, strong protectors and he was dutifully failing that role and his best friend seemed to have no trouble picking up the slack.

He felt as though that tiny little child had replaced him in just that instant, reverting back to the small boy who would've followed you anywhere without question, without hesitation, because he trusted you that much.

All those moments of trust, the moments of dancing in basements, or you encouraging him to jump off a high tree branch, or even showing him how to do a neat trick on his bicycle (he had fallen quite badly after that one, but he hadn't even let you apologize because the problem did not lie in your teaching methods, it simply laid in his inability to do anything remotely active). It all came rushing back to him, echoes falling upon his ears as he attempted tp act casual, hiding behind that fridge door and pretending to inspect the contents. Well, that is, until you had spoken.

His lips pursed, eyes flickering up to peak over the top of the fridge and peer at you. His fingers twitched, closing the door and reluctantly rising from his hindsightedly awkward crouched position. Your eyes fell to his fingers, lips almost quirking at the corners when you noticed they still did that thing.

That thing they had done almost since the day you had met him. That thing where they moved, like re-wiring a bomb, or turning the pages of a book only he could see. The things where they danced upon the moth air, catching your attention and letting you know that his nerves were at an all time high. When you were children, it acted up whenever the boy was uncomfortable, spiking when the two were surrounded by bullies, or when he had to go home early (he didn't quite enjoy being home all too much back then). The memory of the Reid's slender fingers dancing that same dance almost made hers begin her own. Her hand twitched, as if to reach out and grab as she did so many years ago, as she had always done. Her hand longed to reach out and grab his in her own and give him that smile- knowing and reassuring, letting him know that she was there, that he was safe, and that he had no reason at all to be nervous.

But she didn't. Her hand remained at her side, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets just as soon, rocking on his heels awkwardly.

It was quiet for a moment, only the hum of the newly purchased refrigerator to fill the abyss blanketing the two agents. The old one had given up almost three weeks ago. Spencer could still remember the smell it had reeked when the team had discovered just how broken it was. Penelope had told them when they had gotten back from a case, ranting about how her milk had gone bad, cheese going rotten and they hadn't quite believed her. "Are you sure it's plugged in?" Rossi had asked teasingly to which the blonde had scowled and turned on her heel, Derek nipping at her stilettos.

They had soon discovered that the tech analyst was, in fact, correct, the smell putrid and intense  enough to make the Reid man's eyes sting when he opened the fridge. Hotch had to make room in the budget but he had chosen almost an exact replica of the old fridge. The only difference was that this one was new.

"I never thought I'd see you again." You broke the silence. It was true. Because you couldn't quite remember the last time you had thought about him. Those months after he had left he had been all that you had thought about. Your best friend. Spencer. Your Spencer. And he had just...left. Just as you had always known he would, so you couldn't even particularly act surprised about it, but you could act 'mopey' as your father had called it with a grumble.

He was all you had thought about because best friends don't just stop being friends just because one moves away, they stop being friends because eventually someone loses interest in the other and right now you couldn't quite remember if that had been you or him.

Spencer's lips screwed up into that uncomfortable smile that he had done as a kid and now looked even sillier on his fully-grown and matured face. "Me either."

It was hard enough for him to get that sentence out and it was two words. Two words and three syllables and it was enough to make him dizzy because he just felt so...bare. He felt vulnerable and insecure and slightly embarrassed because here, in this building, in the Behavioral Analysis Unit he was.. well, he was Spencer Reid. He was boy genius, the kid who was a child prodigy, could read at incredible speeds, had multiple PhD's, and seemingly knew everything about anything. He was a superhero. Okay, maybe not a superhero, but at least in this building he could imagine that some people actually thought of him that way.

They admired him for his intelligence and they didn't see him as that dorky kid from Nevada with a schizophrenic mom who sometimes forgot to feed him. And now, you did. You, who had played cops and robbers with him in his backyard or returned books back to him with the pages dog eared that always drove him nuts, or picked out peanuts from your ice cream because you hated them. You would see him that way. As the way that he had tried so incredibly hard to bury, and Spencer felt his throat close up at the notion.

"Did you follow me here?" It wasn't what he meant to say. It wasn't what he wanted to say at all. He wanted to ask where she had been. What she had done, who she had met. He wanted to know it all but what had come out was a snarky remark that implied the girl had nothing better to do with her time than follow around a boy she had met so many years ago and while he was hopeful she wouldn't take it as such he saw that familiar twitch of her brow and narrow of her eyes as she let out a scoff.

"Funnily enough, they recruited me, are you sure you didn't stalk me and send in that paperwork yourself?" Your words were light, light enough that any passerby might have thought the two were joking around but he knew you. He knew that the fierceness in your tone was a warning, an indication to your ever-growing temper that always had a tendency to flare up at both the worst and best moments was in the process of rising.

Spencer's eyes widened. "I didn't, I wouldn't- I haven't thought about you in decades, actually-" Your lips pursed and the Reid man's hands flew form their place of rest in his pants pockets and began to fly in the air around him as he tried to fix his mistake but he had never been quite as skilled as you with the whole social interaction side of friendship and very quickly the man felt himself making things worse. "That's not what I meant. Look, I just find it a bit strange that you're here-"

The coffee stirrer in your hands halted in their movement as you pulled it from the light brown pool of liquid sitting in your mug. Your fingers flicked it into the trashcan, nodding stiffly. "Well then." Your hand tipped your glass to the man who was trying entirely too hard to conceal the panic racing through his mind. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. JJ offered to give me a tour of the place, I think I'll take her up on that-"

"Y/N-" he hadn't moved form his spot, despite his brain yelling at his feet to move. Spencer could've been glued to the floor for all he knew but what he did know was that he simply was not budging. You turned with a confused look on your face, one that made his stomach churn because his behavior had caused it.

"It's fine, Spencer, we were friends as kids, doesn't mean we have to be now." His mouth opened, lips parting to say something, anything to keep you from walking into the bullpen, unaware of his internal conflict to you bring in the building rather than just thinking he was the world's biggest jerk, but nothing came out and your hand waved in the air passively. "It's okay, Spencer, seriously."

And with that, you had left.

-

DECEMBER 2011

The team stared at you expectantly, awaiting the answer to Penelope's inquiry and you threw a glance over your shoulder, landing on the genius to your left. You had all chosen a booth to sit at, close enough to the bar to retrieve drinks and far enough away to avoid the issue of crowds. The Reid man was pressed against the wall side of the booth, eyes glued to his drink of choice- a water, as far as you could tell but you didn't question it (Had you questioned any of his decisions in the last couple of months? No, that would have required talking.)

Your hand dropped the olive skewer softly, easily placing a faux smile that hurt your lips to create, eyes on the child prodigy shrinking his body so far into himself you thought he might collapse entirely.

"He was a good friend."

Penelope rolled her eyes, Emily booing as Derek through a pretzel that landed squarely in your curls. Hotch and Rossi watched in interest, JJ giggling at the teams antics but you weren't watching them.

You were watching him.

The stiffness that had taken over his posture, the stillness in his breaths.

"A good friend? That's it? Oh come on, sweetheart, we're gonna need a bit more than that, give it to us." The Morgan's eyebrows danced upon his forehead in a way that made you laugh, your eyes closing for the briefest of moments. But the moment was fleeting enough to let Spencer look at you, eyes flitting from the condensation on his water glass he had been concentrated on for the better half of the night to you. Your head tilted back, neck exposed as you chuckled. Your eyes were closed, just that happy grin consuming your features and he could imagine that he had been the one to cause it, just as he had done so before all those years ago reading the back of popsicle sticks and Laffy Taffy wrappers in funny voices because he knew that it made you laugh no matter what. He could imagine that he hadn't screwed up all those months ago, that he had pestered you with the questions that had stormed his mind that day and continued to flood him everyday since and that he was sitting next to you as he should be now. That the two of you were... the two of you once more. As you should have been. As it always should have been.

But then the moment was over and your eyes were opening to find Spencer staring at his glass once more.

"I don't think I will." Your smile drained at the sight the man and you deflated slightly, letting out a puff of air before holding up the empty glass, focusing your eyes back onto the Morgan. "But I will grab us all another round."

The chorus of boo's followed you like a billowy cloak wrapped around your shoulders and you turned on your heel without a second thought, heading to the bar for another drink.

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[e-milieeee]

tell me your heart—ladrien

Summary: Marinette finally works up the courage to tell Adrien her feelings. Except there’s one little problem: she accidentally does it as Ladybug, not as Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

Notes: happy anniversary, APS! this is slightly messier than my usual fics but marinette is a mess and so is my brain and yall robbed me of my brain cells :( super glad i joined the server and ily all!! 

Or click here to read on AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is going to confess today.

It’s not going to be like the twenty-second attempt, when she had left her water bottle’s lid screwed on too loosely and ended up digging out a soggy piece of paper in front of Adrien, which Marinette had stupidly dumped into his hands before running.

It’s not going to be like the thirty-sixth attempt, when she had slipped in front of a banana peel and tripped face first into Adrien’s chest and promptly told him to ‘stay peachy!’  

It’s definitely not going to be like the thirty-ninth attempt, one that was too embarrassing for her to recall. Marinette keeps that one in the cobwebbed crevices of her memories with caution tape layered all over the crime scene. No, this time will be perfect, because everything—every roadblock, every little thing that has the slightest potential to go wrong—has been dealt with.

Except, that is, the akuma attack that happens right after school.

By the time she purifies the akuma and bids Chat goodbye, Adrien’s schedule has moved from Chinese lessons to fencing. In a mad scramble, Marinette snatches her backpack up from the corner she’d tossed it right before the akuma attack. Inside, nestled carefully, are a pair knitted mittens. They’re less colorful than the rest of her inventions, but it’s been meticulously tailored to fit Adrien’s color scheme in a way that she hopes won’t clash with his other clothing (and, fingers crossed, will pass Gabriel Agreste’s critical eye). In a smaller box lies five passionfruit macarons that she’d woken up to bake at four in the morning.

It’s all perfect—every little bit—nothing can go wrong. Absolutely nothing.

She runs past one of the other fencing boys on the way, ignoring the strange look he sends her. Then, crossing her fingers that Adrien is still in the locker room, rushes inside.

It’s empty at first glance, and while Marinette’s heart drops, she isn’t deterred. She has a backup plan to the backup plan. And a backup plan to that. If she can’t catch Adrien before fencing, she’ll catch him after. If she can’t catch him after, she knows exactly where his Chinese lesson is—it’s all foolproof. No loopholes. No mushy notes, no banana peels.

Except she doesn’t need to find him after. Because there, at the last row of the lockers, stands Adrien Agreste.

He’s all dressed in his white fencing gear, arranging his shoes with the helmet tucked under his arms. Marinette practically barrels towards him, holding the gift-wrapped mittens and the box of passionfruit macarons. She’s out of breath, but it’s not from the running. Nervousness churns in her stomach, in her chest, until she feels like she’s going to barf.

No. She is not going to barf on Adrien Agreste attempting to confess to him. That would make it even worse than attempt thirty-nine.

“Adrien,” Marinette announces loudly.

Said boy looks up at her. His eyes widen, hands dropping from his shoes and leaving his laces untied, before he straightens. His mouth is open and does not close.

Is she that surprising? Maybe it’s because she’s in the boy’s locker room? But Marinette has long decided that doesn’t matter. She’s going to do it. She’s going to say it. Now.  

“I have something to tell you,” she continues. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes,” Adrien replies. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her. “Um, definitely. Definitely have a moment.”

Mentally, Marinette congratulates herself. Her voice has remained even and confident, and she sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. Judging by the look of surprise that still hasn’t disappeared from Adrien’s face, she figures that she might be doing something right, finally. Or maybe something horribly, horribly wrong—

That thought drives out the eloquent speech she had prepared to deliver. Reverting back to her mess of words, Marinette thrusts out her arms, where the two packages lie.

“I like you,” she declares.

Oh, no.  

That was not how it was supposed to go. Marinette opens her mouth to amend, although she only ends up digging an even deeper hole. “Like, as in like-like you. Not as a friend. I mean—I mean, I do like you as a friend! But more than that too. I’ve liked you since you gave me your umbrella on the first day, and I realized you were such a compassionate, considerate person and you really care for your friends and you’re amazing and you smell good— argh.” She looks down at the gifts she’s still holding out to Adrien, tucked between red and black lined up her arms and tries to collect her words. “I like you a lot Adrien, and I know you might not feel the same, but I wanted to—”

The realization hits Marinette a second before Adrien manages out, sounding like he very much might faint, “Ladybug?”

They stare at each other. Then, like the idiot she is, Marinette blurts, “I’m not Ladybug, I’m Marinette.”

Oh, God.  

It's tragedy at it’s finest. This much, much worse than the time she’d dumped her yoghurt over his head.

Marinette knows that she should do something to fix the situation. Especially now, as Ladybug, who should be able to fix more than she ruins. Will it work if she summons a Lucky Charm? If she Miraculous Ladybug’s the situation, will Adrien forget about the very, very conspicuous slip-up?

No, probably not.

“Um,” Adrien manages. His face is as pale as a sheet. “Ladybug? I—I don’t—uh, are you sure you’ve got the wrong person? This is for—that’s for me?”  

Amidst the panic, Marinette’s heart still manages to drop even further. Of course. It’s a little vague, his reply, but it’s enough for her to understand the undertones in his voice.

“No,” she stammers, reverting right back to a stuttering mess she had been so certain she was long past. Then, as if she hasn’t contradicted herself enough today, she thrusts the bundle—macarons, mittens—into Adrien’s arms. He manages to catch it all, despite her shaky fumbling.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette tells him, because it’s the only thing she can think of saying.

Adrien doesn’t move. His mouth is open and Marinette can’t tell if the expression on his face is shock or confusion or worst—disgust.

The countless possibilities and the sheer terror of not-knowing throws Marinette into action. In one well-rehearsed action, she throws her yo-yo towards the window. It slams against the lock, opening a sliver.

And, like a coward, Marinette runs.  

***

She’s missing.

Adrien has searched everywhere.

He’s well aware of the fact that he skipped fencing; Nathalie will undoubtedly find out and therefore his father will too, but he can’t bring himself to care. He can spin another story about the akuma attack—it doesn’t matter, not when Ladybug— Marinette— is nowhere to be found.

He scours the whole school first, as Adrien Agreste. Then, without letting Plagg convince him into doing anything smarter, Adrien transforms into Chat Noir.

It’s very apparent he has lost his ability to think things clearly when he stops by at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery to ask for Marinette’s whereabouts.

He’s hit with memories of his last visit here, as Chat Noir: standing in front of the door, imposingly large, with a single pink rose in hand. That might’ve been one of the most terrifying days of his life.

How ridiculous to think that it had been Ladybug—Ladybug, Marinette, Ladybug—that had welcomed him inside, Ladybug whom he had kissed so nervously on the cheek, Ladybug’s parents who…

Adrien’s head is spinning so much that he thinks he’s going to be sick.

The bakery isn’t very crowded when he enters, but he assumes it's because he came at an odd time. He sees Marinette’s mother behind the counter, straightening the displays. Her eyes widen when she sees him. Tom Dupain is nowhere in sight, which Adrien decides is most likely best for himself. They left on decent terms, but he doesn't want to explain to the man why his daughter might be possibly missing.

“Chat Noir!” she exclaims. “What a lovely surprise.”

He manages to return her smile, but it feels more like a wince. “Is La—Marinette home, Mrs. Cheng?”

“Sabine,” she corrects. “And no, not that I know of. School ended and she has yet to come back. Would you like me to pass a message for her?”

Adrien tries to hide his disappointment, but he’s pretty sure Sabine is too perceptive to have missed the way his ears drop. “That’s okay,” he tells her. “Any idea where she might be?”

A shake of her head. Adrien bids her farewell before rushing out, hoping to avoid any more questions.

His next destination is Alya’s house. She’s home, sitting in her room editing the formatting for the Ladyblog. Adrien doesn’t dare walk through their front door, but instead, taps on the window as he clings onto the side of the apartment.

Her eyes go wide when she sees him, and the window is thrown open in a moment and Alya practically sticks her head out. “Chat Noir!” she exclaims with her usual enthusiasm. “What can I help you with? Actually, do you think I could interview—”

“Not now.” He readjusts his grip. “I’m actually looking for Marinette. Do you know where she is?”

Alya frowns. “Marinette? I haven’t seen her since after school. She went looking for one of our classmates—Adrien Agreste? Maybe you’ll find her with him.”

Adrien’s heart stutters a little when he hears his name from her lips, an old nervousness about his identity. He does his best to make sure his expression doesn’t betray his thoughts, and instead offers Alya a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, anyway,” he says. “I’ll just keep looking.”

He can see the question forming on her lips. Adrien practically flees to avoid questioning yet again.

He visits many places, everywhere he can imagine Marinette would go. He even turns up at the Couffaine’s boat, but the answer he receives is the same: no, she hasn't been here.

An hour into his search and Adrien finally . begins to look for spots he knew Ladybug would visit.

He scours Eiffel tower. The area around Notre Dame. He goes to the school again, for good measure. Neither Ladybug or Marinette are anywhere in sight.

It’s at the banks of the Seine that Adrien nearly gives up. He drops by at Andre’s ice cream stand, grudgingly heading over when the man beckons to him.

“Looking for somebody?” he asks.

“Yeah.” Adrien toes the ground. “Has Ladybug passed this area?”

Wordlessly, Andre points his hand towards the row of rooftop. Adrien follows his gaze to them, where bricks and stone dip and form into structures, and—

There.  

Red against blue, outlined against the sky.

There.  

Adrien sucks in a breath. “Thank you,” he breathes to Andre before leaping off.

He drops by behind Ladybug thirty seconds later, his throat closing and chest constricting. She doesn’t turn around even though she must’ve heard the thump of his landing.

She looks impossibly small sitting there. But of course. Ladybug is Marinette—short and cute and bright and generous Marinette, who’s adorably clumsy and sometimes stumbles with her words around him. Other times, she snaps at Chloe—Chloe, who no one else dares confront—without an ounce of fear. (Figures. After facing akumas as Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng probably wouldn’t be scared of Chloe.)

There, with her legs pulled to her chest and untouched ice cream melting in a couple next to her, Adrien finds himself reconciling the two people very easily in his mind, even if part of him still trembles with disbelief and anticipation.

Marinette—Ladybug—is in love with Adrien Agreste; Ladybug is in love with him.  

It’s that thought that gives him courage to take a step forward. “Hey,” he greets, throat dry.

“Hey,” she replies softly. “Why are you out right now, kitty?”

Adrien sits down beside her. “Something surprising happened to me today and I needed time to clear my head. You?”

She turns her head to look at him, and for the first time, Adrien takes her features in with the whole picture in mind. Blue eyes like the sky, black hair. They even had the same hairstyle. The same voice. Ladybug pouts like Marinette does when she’s trying to convince people, because God help him, Ladybug was Marinette.

“Remember the boy I told you I liked?” Ladybug mumbles.

The sting in his chest is gone when she mentions it. Mentions him.  

All those days of harbouring jealousy—jealousy Adrien had told himself many times was irrational yet could not let go of—at Ladybug’s unnamed crush, and it had been himself all along.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I made a mistake today.” She stretches her legs out in front of her and gives him a sad little smile. “I thought… I don’t know what I was thinking, but I thought I should finally tell him what I feel about him.”

“Did he reject you?” Adrien asks carefully.

“Yes—no, but I-I might’ve accidentally given away my identity. He isn’t the sort of person who would go around telling anybody, but I just—I mean, now he knows I’m Ladybug. And the worst part is that the first thing he said was are you sure you’ve got the wrong person. So maybe that was a rejection. Maybe—I mean, what if he was disappointed? To find out who Paris’ superhero really was?”

“Why would he be disappointed?”

Ladybug throws her arms up. “Because it’s me,” she says. “I’m just a normal girl underneath the suit. Maybe he was expecting…maybe he was expecting someone more phenomenal. Someone more…worthy? It’s just… yeah, the options could’ve been much worse. But they could’ve been much better, you know? Maybe if I hadn’t accidentally confessed as Ladybug, he wouldn’t have been…wouldn’t have been as disappointed.”

Her words hurt, the fact that this is what she thinks about herself and his opinion of her, but Adrien doesn’t let himself give in yet. The words and dancing on the tip of his tongue— Plagg, claws in— but he seals them away for later. “If this boy you like doesn’t think you’re worthy, then he’s not worthy,” he tells her. “Underneath the suit, whoever you are, I’m certain you’re just as amazing.”

She laughs, but it’s a little strained. “Thanks, kitty,” she whispers. “I wish he thought like that as well.”

Adrien can barely sit still. It must be black magic that his voice comes out without trembling. “Maybe he does.”

“If he did, why did he say that? He looked shocked, and it wasn't the sort of good shock?”

“Did you give him a chance to respond?”

“Well… no.”

“Maybe Adrien would’ve said something different if you stayed a little longer.”

“Or maybe he would’ve said even worse— wait. Did you just say Adrien?”

She looks at him now, and Adrien’s heart is beating so fast that he’s sure it’s going to rip right out of his ribcage. “Did you say Adrien?” she repeats when he doesn't immediately respond.

Adrien takes a deep breath. “Plagg, claws in.”

His transformation falls in a burst of green light, too quick for Ladybug to turn away, too sudden for her to remember to close her eyes.

Silence follows. Then, with a loud shriek, she practically leaps to her feet. “ Adrien?”  

Now that he’s reached the end of what’s been thought through, Adrien can only improvise. He opens his palms, which are sticky with sweat. “Ta-da?” he announces weakly.

Ladybug lets out a sound that sits between a sputter and a choke. She points a finger at him. “You’re Adrien,” she says.

“Yeah. And you’re—you’re Marinette.”

They stare at each other, both speechless, before Adrien says, “I wasn’t disappointed, you know. I was just… I wasn’t functioning properly because the girl I’ve been in love with for the past six months confessed to me. And because I was so used to you turning me down that it was just—uh, it was shocking. But I promise you it’s the best sort of shock. Not the bad kind you were talking about."

“Oh my God,” Ladybug manages. “ You’re Chat. Of course you’re Chat Noir. And…all those times—I dumped yoghurt on Chat Noir’s head?”  

Adrien can’t help the laughter that bursts out. “Ladybug dumped yoghurt on my head,” he confirms.

“I’ve… thrown Adrien Agreste off the Eiffel tower for fun.”

“I sit in front of Ladybug in class.”

“Adrien’s face is plastered all across the city and nobody suspects that you’re Chat Noir!”

At that, she bursts out laughing. It’s a little hysterical, but it’s laughter all the same, and she laughs until she has doubled over, clutching her stomach and shaking. “We’re so stupid,” Ladybug manages out between giggles. “All this time, and we’ve been idiots.”

He grins back at her. “To think that you’ve been the one grilling me about keeping my identity secret, yet you’re the one who gave it away in the end.”

Ladybug shakes her head. “What now?”

“What now?” Adrien echoes. “Well, the girl of my dreams just confessed to me, and I haven’t given her an answer yet.” He takes a deep breath. The words are well rehearsed as Chat; less so as Adrien Agreste. It’s strangely foreign now that their situation has shifted so drastically, but he plows on. “I like you as well, but I’ve made that abundantly clear. And I like you, Marinette too. N-not just Ladybug. Both sides of you. I’m not disappointed you’re Ladybug, because now that I see it, it could only be you. And I’m so, so glad you decided to tell me today. Even if it didn’t go as you planned in the beginning.”

A thrill runs through him when he sees the way her face lifts into a smile. They look at each other, wordless but not needing words, everything unspoken already laid out between them.

“There doesn’t need to be a what now,” Adrien adds. “I’m quite content with now.”  

He holds out his hand, and she takes it.

“I’m glad you’re my partner,” Ladybug says quietly, after a little bit of silence. “And I’m glad that today happened. And I’m really, really glad that it was you I dumped that yoghurt on. It's suddenly a lot less embarrassing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She nudges his hip playfully with her own. It’s a familiar action, but this time, Adrien swears his heart melts a little bit more at it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty.”

“Well, if I’ve got it right, you like me because I’m amazing and generous and smell good, so I don’t think I’m getting ahead of myself.”

When he sneaks a glance at her, her face is red. “Shut up.”

“Or else?”

“Or else,” she echoes, then shakes her head. “I just remembered. I gotta go before my parents start panicking.”

“Are you leaving on purpose?”

“Ye— no! No, I’m not. But my maman expected me home hours ago, and they’re bound to worry. I’ll—I’ll call you when I get back, and we can even meet tonight if you want.”

Adrien smiles at her. It's endearing, these little pieces of Marinette he sees in Ladybug that he's never noticed before. The slight stumbling over her words, the way she taps her feet on the ground. “It’s fine,” he reassures, “I get it. And tonight sounds good.”

“Tonight it is,” Ladybug agrees. “Eiffel tower?”

“Yeah. S-see you.”

She gives him a quick wave, pauses, then leans in and presses a chaste kiss against his cheek. Before Adrien can speak or react, she has thrown her yo-yo towards a nearby building and swung away.

His face is warm long after the red of Ladybug’s suit disappears. Adrien doesn’t know how long he continued staring after her if it’s not for Plagg, who zips out of his shirt and smacks his cheek, hard.

“Close your mouth before I barf,” his kwami groans. “Because I’m this close to cataclysming myself.”

“Ladybug likes me back,” Adrien tells Plagg for good measure.

“I’ve heard!”  

Despite his complaining, though, Plagg grants him silence as Adrien sits quietly on the rooftop. And everything is okay—everything is more than okay—because Ladybug is Marinette, Marinette is Ladybug, and Adrien has never been happier.

Notes: i tried my best ok pls accept my offering of good will :( 

(this is also the least angsty reveal fic i’ve done fhsjkfdhf) 

Fics masterlist

[flyawayrachel]

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

[fabdante]

The Vergil and Kat Post

So um. This like idk essay, analysis, rant thing took took like five attempts to write because I would not stop rambling and it’s still like just barely five pages long. And that’s after I cut it down from like 11 pages.

The short version is: Kat and Vergil are really interesting and complex as we view their relationship usually from an outside perspective which leaves much up to interpretation. If you’ve been on my blog for a while you probably know the interpretation I have of them because I eat up tragedy like candy, but that’s not the only one. 

The (very) long version is beneath the cut. And unfortunately this time there are no pictures. There’s some analysis but also just a lot of rambling. If Kat and Vergil, in any form, are not your cup of tea, this is probably not a post for you which is chill!

I’m going to start with the end. Vergil’s Downfall.

Recap, when Vergil encounters Hollow Vergil in his personal trip to his personal hell and all, Hollow Vergil eventually asks ‘but what would you do if you had another chance’. Vergil doesn’t answer. But since he’s the player character, we get access to his thoughts. And we get a montage of Kat. At first one might think this is about how the plan went wrong. Vergil’s regretting the plan. Then it becomes increasingly more apparent the thread that ties all the scenes together isn’t the plan, isn’t the plans failings. It’s Kat. Not Dante and Kat. Not the plan. Just Kat. The scene ends with a scene from mission 2, a moment from the end of the only cutscene Vergil and the real Kat share alone. There’s this little moment that seems to exist to show how pretty Kat is.

This is his last thought. Not the plan. Not how Kat relates to the plan. Not how he mistreated Kat in service to the plan. It’s just Kat.

Act one of Vergil’s Downfall is all about Vergil and Kat. The whole things a reenactment, just somewhat twisted, of how they met. Kat in Limbo, in danger from a demon, and Vergil doing what he can to help. He doesn’t hesitate either. He hears Kat call for him, call for help, and he runs. Except in Downfall the threat is with them, something he can fight and slay head on. So he does. But everything is wrong now. ‘Kat’ berates him. She tells him what Vergil must think she’s thinking. That she feels used, that she thinks Dante’s better, and all that. And Vergil tries to explain, he tries to justify himself, even if this ‘Kat’ is not his Kat. He wants her to understand, though. Because she’s Kat after all.

He needs to hurt her to proceed, of course. But he can’t. He can’t until she turns into a physical monster. Not until this fake Kat becomes something entirely unKat can he actually hurt her and proceed.

The Hollows represent aspects of Vergil that he needs to kill to gain power, as well as his insecurities and the people he cares about and more. Kat represents his humanity. So I suppose, in a way, it’s not surprising that she’s the hardest for him to kill and the one who receives the least of his cruelty that we see later in the game. But, the point still remains. He faces Hollow Kat first. And he begs her to understand him, longs for things to go back in what way they can.

(Also, an aside, it’s interesting to think about how Kat is not only humanity, but Vergil’s humanity. The implication being that Kat in a sense grounds him. A foil to how inhuman Vergil is.)

Downfall takes the scraps that the game gives and gives them a revamped, strengthened context for Kat and Vergil and their true feelings and intentions. The first game doesn’t give us much and why should it? They are built in a show don’t tell philosophy because, well, Dante can’t tell us about Vergil and Kat. He can only see. So we only see. But Downfall, we are explicitly told that yes, Vergil cared for Kat. She is important. And she is his one regret.

So, Downfall proposes that Vergil genuinely cared for Kat. And the base game proposes that Kat genuinely cared for Vergil. And it’s hard for me not to talk ramble when I talk about them because there’s…a lot of little moments between them that I love, little things that I find interesting to pick apart and wonder about (and have over the past 8 years). I’m going to try not to do that, though. Try being the operative word (I have failed all five write ups preceding this one).

Kat is often described as naïve because of her relationship with Vergil. But I think this is an inaccurate description. We never see her blindly trust anyone in the game. She doesn’t trust Dante because she just believes in him. We know this because she’s immensely skeptical of him and if he’s going to be helpful up until after the succubus boss fight. And we know she’s skeptical of him because she questions Vergil about it and she remains skeptical, keeping Dante an arm’s length away. She is not naïve. She trusts Vergil because he’s earned that trust.

It’s hard not to see how he managed to do that. He helped her kill her foster father and escape a bad situation, but it’s what happened after that solidifies this deep connection between the two. Kat tells Dante how Vergil helped her afterwards while she coped with the trauma and it’s something she mentions more then once. Kat’s trust and loyalty to Vergil is because he’s earned it. Because he has seen her at her worst and did not run. He stayed. He helped her through it. And still he stays now. It’s easy to imagine this going both ways, that seeing Kat ‘raw’ as he says makes Vergil vulnerable right back.

Plus, Vergil compares Kat when he first met her to Dante (‘He’s raw. Just like you were when I found you.’).  I think one would be hard pressed to refer to reboot Dante, the one with self proclaimed trust issues, as naïve.

So, we have a relationship of deep trust between the two over what is implied to be a long time. The sort of trust and intimacy you get when someone sees all of you and knows all of you. At least, I think that’s Kat’s end. When it comes to Vergil…well, opinions are complicated.

There are the three options of how Vergil feels about Kat if we simplify it down. One, he was using her and this was all to use her and get the plan finished. Two, he was using her but grew to care for her over time. Three, he was never using her and this was all real. I’m three all the way but one and two aren’t really contradicted anymore than three is. Which is an issue when talking about Kat and Vergil and trying to be all inclusive but also concise. There’s no one answer. There are just different opinions on what the answer is.

For me, it’s hard to reconcile the idea that he did not care for her with what we see in Vergil’s Downfall. Or when we have moments like his genuine joy that she’s alive in the server room. It’s hard for me to reconcile the idea of Vergil using her this whole time when it feels like a lot of work to keep her at his side when she can’t even control her powers. It’s hard for me to reconcile the deep connection I see between them.

For other people, the opposite is hard. Seeing what happened in the server room, seeing Vergil write off Kat entirely, seeing him call her useful and referring to humans as subjects, cannot be reconciled with the idea that he genuinely cared for and about her. Or how one could get a very loyal side kick the way he goes about this, saving her and giving her a home and purpose and everything. It’s an easy way into getting a loyal assistant.

All that I can tell you is how I see it. And what I see is two people with a deep intimacy with each other. The relationship may be messy and complicated and not perfect, but that’s what I see. That’s not what everyone sees, and that’s ok. That’s just what I see and that’s what this post is about.

I think its notable to about how important this relationship is because Vergil actually gets like, jealous about it. I get side tracked for too long when I go on about this so, in keeping things short, we see Vergil in the background get frustrated with things Dante says to Kat (namely the ‘I like it rough’) and we see him get kind of jealous in the game. But we really see it in Downfall. And sure, there are things he’s jealous about that pertain to Dante that aren’t Kat related. But there are things that do relate to that. We mostly see this, again, with Hollow Kat. She pisses him off when she mentions Dante being a real man. There’s of course stoking at Vergil’s insecurities since he’s lost to his twin and he already seems to feel envious about how easy things are for Dante and everything. But there’s also the fact it’s Kat saying it. It’s Kat who’s telling him she prefers Dante. That stings Vergil, this idea Kat cares about Dante more than him.

Part of this I think is from the fear that Kat will run off to Dante because of their similar backgrounds. They both have similar childhoods, something Vergil didn’t experience. Which, going back to what I said, a person who must pride himself on how well he knows Kat (and how well she knows him) must find that kind of threatening. 

There’s this scene added in the Definitive Edition. Before that we were left to assume Kat wandered the tower and that’s how she mapped it for the twins, but the Definitive Edition makes it clear canon. This makes the scene where Mundus records himself with Kat as a threat to the twins the only time we see Kat out of body in the game. During this experience, she assumedly betrays Vergil’s name to Mundus. Before the Definitive Edition scene, I always just kind of wrote off that moment. Kat’s under extreme duress, she’s just saying whatever at this point. I thought this for years after, to.

But then one day, after replaying the game for the umpteenth time, a thought came into my head. She’s out of body, in Limbo, surrounded by demons. She says his name because Kat is looking for him. She say’s his name because despite what happened in the server room, she still trusts Vergil. She doesn’t say Dante’s name, she doesn’t call for anyone else. She calls for Vergil. Because who else would she call for if not Vergil, the person she’s closest to and the person who saved her before?

It’s this sort of thing that makes the betrayal hurt as badly as it does for well, everyone. Us, Kat, Vergil, Dante. But focusing on Kat and Vergil, it’s the trust. It’s this deep bond between the two of them that’s suddenly shattered. What do you do when this person you think you know so well doesn’t do what you expect? When they do the exact opposite, actually? When they suddenly don’t understand you at all? It’s such a foundational relationship for the two of them to, it’s earth shattering to go from knowing a person so truly and deeply to looking at a stranger. This is all kinda true for Vergil who must have expected Kat to understand even if he may have thought she’d get upset. But this is all extremely true for Kat

It’s kind of a double sided betrayal. While I’m not really going to say Kat betrayed Vergil, because she didn’t she stayed true to her word and what she thought they were fighting for and everything, Vergil feels betrayed to, just like Kat and Dante. And oh does Kat feel betrayed. One of my favorite like, animation, character moments is like the pure disbelief, anguish and betrayal on Kat’s face at the betrayal it’s so well done. Like even the little look she does out over the city then back to Vergil like it’s just its good but not important back to topic. Kat thought they were fighting to free humanity. And Vergil seems to truly think this is for the best, if humanity is under his rule.

While one can argue Vergil’s goal was power, I feel like Vergil’s goal was the same he had from the start. Vergil wanted to free humans. He’s not even wrong, really. If Dante and Vergil do not put someone on the throne to replace Mundus, a new demon will take his place. Without someone controlling the demons, the demons will wreck havoc uncontrolled. However his wording could use some work. That said do I think Vergil is susceptible to power corrupting him. Absolute power corrupts absolutely sort of deal. I feel like him and Dante are similar in this regard, neither I think is quite equipped to rule with the amount of power that Vergil proposes they get. I also think Vergil didn’t think he’d get to this part, I don’t think he really thought about what happens after Mundus. Not the specifics. He ended up with this conclusion later in the game, and as a result never floated it by anyone. And to be fair, no one asked.

Kat always seems so full of hope at the end, right after she get’s Dante to stop killing Vergil and everything. She’s got these big Kat eyes, like she expects now things will go back. Vergil will say this was a joke and he’ll come back and things will be normal and she will have her best friend and the world will be safe. But that’s not what happens. Vergil leaves, of course (not after him and Kat have a long extended stare where they must be wondering mutually if the other will change their mind, if she will follow or he will stay). The whole ending in general from start to finish we get a lot with Kat and Vergil subtext. How she manages to get him to listen for a moment, even if Dante ends up getting him too angry to listen by the end. How Kat goes out on a limb to save Vergil, even if she didn’t have to.

She must be wondering, to, how real it all was. Dante’s answer I think is that it wasn’t. From what he saw, from his limited scope, it wasn’t. He cannot reconcile it, and why should he? He was thrown into their lives and resistance group with no context and he ends with little more. But Kat’s left wondering, and Vergil’s left regretting, and I’m left lamenting about the very large lack of post game Vergil/Kat content. 

I don’t know. I could keep going. At just over four Microsoft Word pages, this is the shortest attempt I’ve made at this. And I will surely write up some more analysis on them, I didn’t even get to talk about fun stuff like Kat’s theme (or the comics but I left those out on purpose I have…complicated opinions on the comic), or like more about the whole divine/human angle here. I could keep going on and on and on like analyze every little microsecond and sound like this:

Which, to clarify, I will 100 percent do if prompted lmao. But I guess the short of it is, in my biased opinion, I think Kat and Vergil are in love. I think it was real. I think Vergil found her and he helped her because she needed help. I think they know each other better than anyone else. I think some things may have gotten muddled in the mists of being in a rebellion and saving the world and that rebellion was their priority. I think going into the DmC: Devil May Cry post game must be complicated for them, unable to let go of the other but unable to come back. It’s the sort of complicated relationship and tragedy I find fun to write and to read. That’s how I see it, anyway.

Also I mean idk if we are to believe Vergil’s bigger dick comment as truth, who else saw both Dante and Vergil’s dicks? Who except Kat? Who else had this info? Who else would Vergil believe? Just saying. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.  

(edit: also I spelled hollow wrong like multiple times in this essay forgive me it should be fixed now lmao)

[addictedtomanga]

Shoujo manga recommendations - sad(ish)/tragedy

So, some of these manga actually have a happy ending (I’m not saying which, cause spoilers) and a few of these are generally happy with some tragic events among the story, so. 

And they range from “ok, it’s sad, I guess” to “oh my god, why??”

Also, most of them touch the supernatural theme (either with vampires, ghosts etc)

1.      100% Gokuama Kareshi

A collection of one shots. 

! The third chapter fits the sad/tragedy theme.

2.      Babel no Tegami

Even after all these years, you’re still the only one I think of… I’ll put all of my feelings into this letter for you.

3.      Black Bird

The world is full of mysterious "things," but life keeps on going peacefully because no one can see them--except Misao. Harada Misao has the special power to see these "things," but she doesn't tell anybody and tries to continue leading a happy high school life. Though she's jealous of her friends who have boyfriends, she's just like a normal teenage girl as she keeps having dreams about a boy she met when she was younger who has the same power as she does.

Her mundane life suddenly changes when goblins try to eat her, and her old friend Kyo comes back to protect her from them. Then, she finds out that she is personally being sought out as goblin food and that Kyo is a goblin, too. Will she still marry him like they promised when they were children, based on her faith in him that he has no bad intentions towards her? Will she even be safe at school now that Kyo has become her new homeroom teacher? Her exciting teenage life is just about to begin. 

4.      Boku no Hitsugi de Bansan o

A collection of one shots.

5.      Datte, Kimi wa Warau kara

Let’s get into a time machine and return to that time.

Where it was always fun and you were always laughing, to that time... "I only have three more months to live" Yui who just transferred to a new school in the countryside becomes Ryo’s classmate. Yui who is suffering from an illness has a "wish" that she can’t tell anyone, but Ryo wants to grant her that wish but… After death, reality hits Ryo and Yui.

6.      Gunjou - Ai ga Shizunda Umi no Iro

Even though they played together innocently since they were young, somewhere along the way, the seeds of “love“ started to grow. Growing up on an outlying island from Okinawa, Kazuya, Ryoko and Daisuke were brought up like a family. They wanted to be together forever, but the three of them have different desires. One wants to stay, one wants to go, and one of them wants to go, but can’t. When Daisuke is lured away from the island, Ryoko decides to stay on the island with Kazuya. However, the three of them will experience a cruel fate...!

! The first and second chapters fits the sad/tragedy theme.

7.      Kanojo ga Tonda Hi 

Drawn from the heart, a collection of sketches about the problems of our time. “Recruiting those who want to finish it and die, but feel sad doing it alone…” Fed up with everything, Mie posted a notice on an Internet Bulletin Board and found suicide-partners. Four boys and girls were gathered together because of their ties to death. And then…?!

!!! Trigger warning

8.      Kao no Nai Otoko

Two lovers got separated by war. Now the try to find each other. But when the girl finds him, he isn't the same as before...

9.      Kigi no Yukue

Juri has always been saying to herself that she has done everything that she wanted to do, and has lived to her own satisfaction. Plus, she's always been skipping class and coming in late in the mornings, only to be confronted by her class rep, Yoh. Aware of her own situation, she knows that she shouldn't leave any remaining desires and feelings behind...

10.  Kyou no Kira-kun

In 360 days, there were bright days and disappointment while I was staring at you. Though they were neighbors, Nino and Kira had never talked to each other...

But when Nino found out about Kira's secret, her life changes and everyday became more interesting!!

11.  Kobayashi ga Kawai Sugite Tsurai

The comedy starts when the cross-dressing begins! The Kobayashi twins, Mego and Mitsuru, were named after historical figures, but only Mego has grown up with a taste for history. So when Mitsuru is in danger of losing his weekends to extra history classes, he convinces his sister to swap clothes with him and ace his tests! After all, how hard can it be for them to play each other? But Mego can’t rely on just her book smarts in Mitsuru’s all-boys, delinquents’ paradise of a high school. And Mitsuru finds life as a high school girl to be much more complicated than he expected!

12.  Koi Kyokusei

An overly touching love story of a miracle... “One’s “thought“ is subject to change. A change in a human can change the world. Since we’re not alone, we have to be brave.“ Toda Erika’s shining star is rising... It’s a miracle of love. Sakura is willing to do anything like wishing on a star because she wishes to grant her beloved Hirose’s dream. This small deed is what attracts Sakura and Hirose to each other. 

 !!! Trigger warning (2nd chapter)

13.  Kon no ki Konoha

Only in autumn when the dead leaves flutter about can Akino meet the mysterious boy who lives inside the deep blue tree.

14.  Mademoiselle Butterfly

Our heroine is a girl who lives as a geisha in Japan. She has a male childhood friend who's always been kind to her and is her favorite. He's a painter, only he paints on human body parts and she loves it when he paints beautiful butterflies on her arms. She goes to visit him one day and finds a naked woman lying in his room. Immediately after, she gets a customer who's rich and very interested in her. The thought of being away from her friend pains her, but is everything really too late?

15.  Maigo no Obakeyashiki

A girl is bored of her unchanging peaceful life, and goes to a house that is considered haunted. She meets a boy there instead of ghosts.

16.  Michishirube

Wakako has been in love with her childhood friend, who is 2 years older than her, Chii-nii. The thing is, he went away and she’s been sad ever since. 3 years later, she sees him at her gate. Finally she can say “i like you“ but it isn’t easy as it seems. Will she be able to do it?

17.  Natsu no Kakera

A collection of one shots.

! The first chapter fits the sad/tragedy theme.

18.  Onaji Sora wo Miteiru

Rin is always sending messages with her phone and doesn’t speak to anyone. Even though she’s like that, Taka got interested in her and keeps on following her. But why doesn’t she want to look at him...? And who is this mysterious person with whom she always exchanges messages with...?

19.  Orange

One day, Takamiya Naho receives a letter written to herself from ten years in the future. As Naho reads on, the letter recites the exact events of the day, including the transfer of a new student into her class named Naruse Kakeru. The Naho from ten years later repeatedly states that she has many regrets, and she wants to fix these by making sure the Naho from the past can make the right decisions—especially regarding Kakeru. What’s more shocking is that she discovers that ten years later, Kakeru will no longer be with them. Future Naho asks her to watch over him closely.

20.  To the Earth-Born You

A tsunami that caught everyone off guard washed away homes and broke up families. At this moment, why bother remembering the past that can't be changed? Other than adding on to the survivors' sorrow, it also bring up those heart-tearing pasts...

21.  Tsuki no Waltz

A collection of one shots.

22.  Usotsuki Tenshi To Ama No Jaku

In front of Marika that lost ability to smile suddenly appeared mysterious boy calling himself "angel"...!?

23.  Usurai ni Saku

Two kids become friends, even though he has an incurable illness. One winter, he was told he wouldn't be able to live to the next spring and she...

24.  Winter Flowers

A cute and sad story about childhood friends. Yuudai's father is a fireworks maker and ever since he was a kid he has wanted to take over for his father once he turns 18. He made a promise to his childhood friend Hana when they were kids that she could see his first ever created fireworks... However, something isn't right...

25.  Yume Kurai

Whenever Akane falls asleep, she always dreams of talking to a boy. This boy says that he “eats“ her dreams. Who is this boy?

26.  Yurusarete Inai Watashitachi 

A collection of one shots. 

! The second and third chapters fits the sad/tragedy theme

[bibislut]

A Girl Walks Into A Tower

After finding out her best friend is actually Spider Man, Leena's whole world changes. Enter: a meddlesome billionaire, some flirty super soldiers, and one (1) stubborn God of Mischief. Throw in a real need for better communication, a game of spin the bottle and a whole load of banter - and you'll have yourself a real good time at Stark Tower.

Also known as Loki is hella sexy, hella moody and really freakin' stubborn. Featuring: Peter Parker being the cutest, Sam Wilson being a cheeky bitch and a little bit of being a bad ass on the reader's part.

This work has explicit language, sexual content and some mentions of blood / violence, so please take this into consideration before reading!

Word Count: 19,260

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1

You couldn't help but close your eyes as you took the stairs up to your apartment by memory. You'd lived here for nearly a decade now, and the 9 flights' every creak and whine were ingrained in your memory by now, and the 10 hour shift you'd just done could be felt in every muscle: you couldn't help but rest your eyes for a moment.

You finally reached your landing and opened your eyes only to find Peter Parker dozing against your door frame, dried blood staining his skin from his hairline to his eye. The seventeen year old often came to you for a stitch up, not wanting to frighten his Aunt with his injuries. You frowned down at his snoring form and hitched your bag better on your shoulder, crouching down to place your hand on his cheek. "Peter." you whispered, not wanting to startle him. The teenager opened his eyes with a dopey smile.

"Hey, Lele."

"Hey idiot, let's get you inside." You couldn't help but return his warm smile as he shrugged off your attempt to help him up - you always forgot how strong he was. You pulled your keys from out of your pocket and opened the door. Dropping your bag to the floor, you flicked on the lights and shut the door behind Peter, watching him limp to your kitchen table.

"What happened this time?" you asked as you rolled up your sleeves and washed your hands. You reached for a flannel from the bottom drawer and ran it under the hot water.

"Just some kids from school."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew the teenager would be picking at his lips like he did every time he lied. You knew he'd never tell you what really went on before he turned up to your apartment - he never did. You rung out the cloth.

"I swear to God Peter, if I come home one day to find you dead on my doorstep, I will resurrect you just to kill you myself." You couldn't help the motherly tone that clipped your words, despite only having a few years on the boy. Peter winced both at your words and at the pressure you applied as you wiped away the blood. As you cleaned the wound, you were relieved to see that it wouldn't need stitches, but there was a good chance it would scar. You frowned.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry Leena..." He surged forwards to wrap you in a tight hug and you sighed into his hair. You'd known him since he was 6 and you were practically family now. His uncle and your dad had died the same year, your mom joining them a few years ago. You'd always looked after each other, silently vowing protection over the other with each funeral attended. A loud banging at the door pulled you both apart, and you looked at each other in silence as you went to the drawers and pulled out your handgun, Peter walking into the shadows as was protocol (though you had never had to follow it before).

You were a good shot, but Peter was much more quiet and agile - a surprise attack suited him well. You don't know when you'd both become so jumpy, perhaps it was when Aliens began ransacking the city in 2012, or when the murders on the news became more frequent, or when... It didn't really matter. The world was a shit storm, and you'd let hell freeze over before you let anyone you loved get hurt because you weren't prepared.

You looked through the peephole to see someone you most certainly would not have expected. You turned to whisper to the shadows where you knew Peter was. "It's Tony Stark!" Peter emerged quickly, pushing you out of the way to unlatch the door, leaving you gaping like a fish.

"Hey, Mr Stark!" He threw himself at the billionaire, wrapping his arms around him. The businessman-turned-superhero patted the boy's back. The dirt that covered Peter smeared across the obviously expensive navy suit, but neither seemed to care.

"Good to see you alive, kid. Friday said you had some injuries and when I looked on your suit tracker you weren't in your apartment." He pulled Peter back to stare at him sternly. "Care to explain?" You looked at the two of them in shock. Since when had Peter met Tony Stark? And since when had they become so obviously close? The worry etched across the philanthropist's face certainly seemed genuine enough.

Peter turned to look at you anxiously. "I was with Leena, I stopped a robbery a couple blocks away, but they must have got me because I was bleeding, so I came here. She does a great job of cleaning me up, and I didn't want to scare Aunt May, you know how she wo-" he babbled, looking between the two of you, but stopped as Tony made a 'zip it' motion. You frowned at Peter's words; since when did he stop robberies? You put the gun you forgot you had been holding in the waist pants of your jeans and stepped forwards, offering your hand, which was far steadier than you expected.

"I'm Leena, I've known Peter since we were kids."

Tony shakes your hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Tony Stark." You look between the two of them as awkward silence begins to fill the air. You turn to gesture towards your apartment.

"Would you like to come in?" That was what you were supposed to do, right? Offer hospitality? You shook your head quickly to yourself. What the hell was going on?

You lead the way for the two guys, but put a hand on Peter's chest. "Go wash your hands before I catch you putting dirt in the wound I just cleaned." He offers you a salute as he turns down the corridor.

You make your way back to the kitchen to find Mr Stark lounging at the table in the spot where Peter had sat. "Tea or Coffee?" you ask. You wonder for a moment if the month old dollar brew in your cupboard is even worth offering.

"Coffee, black, one sugar." He offers you a thankful smile. You turn around and pull out three mugs, one tea, one coffee and one hot chocolate for Peter. "I bet cleaning up Mr Friendly-Neighborhood-Spider-Boy gets a bit tiring." The billionaire offers as a replacement for the silence. You stiffen, turning to stare at him.

"What?"

He curses under his breath “He didn't tell you?" The business mogul suddenly looks panicked - a glaring contrast to the confident man you'd seen on TV.

You snap your neck to look at the now-frozen Peter Parker standing in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"What the flying fuck, Peter?!"

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

You woke the next day at noon, not as rested as you'd hoped after you'd spent most of last night arguing with Peter. You had to admit you were proud of him, and it did make a lot of sense now that you thought about it. His constant 'fights at school', how light on his feet he was, how agile, how strong he was. You were kind of pissed that you hadn't figured it out before to be honest. You had had a hard time believing it all, but once Peter pulled his suit from his stash behind the couch, you didn't really have a choice but to accept the truth. Tony Stark had also been quite nice to talk to, and the way he treated Peter as his own was so great to see. He'd always needed a father figure. Tony had watched the two of you with rapt interest, seemingly pleased to meet someone so close to Peter. After a while Peter fell asleep on the couch, his head on your shoulder and you and Tony had mouthed your goodbyes. He'd woken up about an hour later and you gave him a hug as he climbed through your window to sneak back to his own apartment.

You sat up and stretched, stifling a yawn as you padded down the hall to the kitchen. A big yellow envelope hung from your letter box and you grabbed it curiously.

EVICTION NOTICE!

"Shit!" You cursed loudly, tearing it open. You knew the landlord was a slimy bastard, but you couldn't believe he was kicking you out. He was a selfish layabout and owned a few of the apartments in the building, yours being the nicest and largest. Knowing him, he probably wanted it so he could move in with his new girlfriend. Of course, he didn't say that in the notice, only that you had two weeks to pack your things and go.

*****

You'd spent the whole day at work lost in your thoughts, barely noticing the caffeine crazed customers around you.You didn't have enough saved to move anywhere decent, yet alone pay the first month's rent upfront as most landlords wanted. You couldn't move in with family - they were all dead or on the other side of the country. You didn't really have any close friends, only your work colleagues. That left Peter's place - but you knew they didn't have a spare room and you certainly couldn't squish everything you had into their living room.

You were still racking your brains by the time the last customer left the coffee shop at 9.55PM, and you hurried to wash their cup and sweep up, locking up and leaving. You trudged through the bitter cold of late-October the five blocks back to your building, bumping into the spider-boy himself in the foyer. You began walking up the stairs together, but found Peter frowning at you as you realized he'd asked you a question. You blinked at him.

"What?"

"You alright Lele? You seem distracted."

You pushed your hair out of your face with a grimace. "I'm being evicted."

It was Peter's turn to blink at you. "What?"

"That bozo, Ethan, is kicking me out." You tried to keep the childlike petulance out of your voice but failed miserably.

"Oh, shit. What are you gonna do?" You hated to be the reason for Peter's worried expression.

"I don't know. I'll figure something out though Pete, I always do." You kissed him on the cheek and patted him on the arm as you reached your perspective doors. "Goodnight, Pete."

Friday was usually games night, but he seemed to understand your lack of excitement without you having to explain. You threw him a grateful look and went your separate ways.

Read the rest on Ao3

[maythedreadwolfbreakyou]

What Dreams May Come

A Solavellan Story

     Waking each morning was no longer the pleasure it had been in Skyhold. There was always that moment when she felt whole again, refreshed by the visions of the night before. But as they gave way to daylight, that happiness evaporated with their memory like a summer rain from the dry earth. Leaving only a vague memory of feeling hope, wrapped within a sharp edge that made it difficult to reach.

     It had been strange to see that towering monolith, once a bustling citadel of trade, spies, and military, now stand cold and silent like a discarded old bone in the soil. Yet as Ghilina walked the winding mountain path away from Skyhold, the place she had strangely come to call home, the mountains closed like theater curtains at the end of a play. 

No, she thought, her jaw set with determination, this is not the end. This is only an intermission. 

     It had been many months since that day, and if losing an arm hadn't been an odd enough experience to live with, leaving Skyhold felt like losing the ground from underneath her feet. But the Dalish were nothing, if not adaptable, and Ghilina took pride in being especially so. She had her father and his teachings to thank for that; moving from place to place and never lingering for long took little effort. She was, after all, Dalish. It was the constant watching of her surroundings while avoiding the prying eyes around her that proved to require more. 

     The days seemed to stretch far longer than they had before. The Inquisition was now a shadow of it's former glory, an echo, and operating what remained of it's forces with such necessary secrecy took more getting used to than she had first thought it would. 

     Even now she lay upon a bed within a rented room for the evening, waiting for contact from one of Leliana's agents, staring up at the tattered wood ceiling from the comfort of a warm and plush feather bed. 

     The countryside just West of Nevarra was lovely. Not somewhere she would choose to linger had she the choice, but it was lovely.

     Somewhere beyond her open window, she heard crickets sing with joy as the aroma of the night wafted in on the cool evening breeze, bringing with it the promise if rain. A hush as a torrent of wind rushed through the gusty trees.

     As much as Ghilina disliked being left with her own thoughts on nights such as this, there was also a sense of peace she enjoyed. Along with the hope for a better tomorrow. 

     Her thoughts began to slow with the progression of the night like the flow of a lazy river. Each one danced as the ribbons from a kite string reaching toward the sky, inviting the dreams that would inevitably take her. 

     Ghilina's dreams always took her to a happier future, the sort she secretly hoped for, yet tucked away into the darkest recesses of her heart. They were bittersweet wishes, for to wish for them earnestly would invite further heartbreak.

     It began as it often did, with the colors of a thousand ribbons and streamers decorating the town square of Wycome. They billowed and swayed on the unseen breeze as people danced and laughed all around her in celebration. 

     Ghilina looked down and found herself dressed in a simplistic white gown, her arms and shoulders exposed.

That was when she noticed that her left hand and the part of her arm that had been consumed by the anchor was no longer missing. It had returned, the same as it had been before the mark, and beautiful bracelets of gold and gems decorated her wrist. Interwoven with her dark hair were the small flowers of Prophet's Laurel.

     Standing before her, taking her hands gently in his, stood the man to whom her heart belonged. 

     Solas, down-turned gray eyes staring so lovingly into her own, wore a red and gold vest with a tunic beneath. It's billowing sleeves tapered at the wrist by leather wrap cuffs, and a white wolf's pelt draped over one shoulder. 

     "You look beautiful," Solas whispered admiringly. 

     Ghilina looked down with a shy smile, "You as well."

Then came someone's familiar dulcet tones, she immediately turned to look in their direction, "are you ready, da'len?"

     Standing there, with a kind and knowing smile, was Keeper Istimaethoriel. She looked beautiful with her graying hair pleated and braided elegantly, pulled back into a neat bun to display her intricate Vallaslin. She was the only one in her entire clan left that she truly thought of as family. To see her again here, Ghilina felt happy tears bud at the corners of her eyes.

     "She can't marry him!" A sudden voice protested angrily. 

Ghilina turned to the gathering crowd, her brows knotting as she stepped into Solas's arms, but she could not find the voice's source among them.

"That's the dread wolf! He tried to kill us all!"

Other faceless voices spoke up in agreement with the first.

Ghilina looked up into those gray eyes she loved so much, only for sadness and regret to look back. The same look Solas had given her that night in the glen.

"But she loves him!"

"He's a trickster god of many guises, he must have tricked her too!"

Chaos erupted all around them as more raucous voices rose with their own protests, the crowd beginning to surround them. All around her were angry and fearful faces. They were growing far too loud, and to block them out, Ghilina placed her hands flat over her ears. 

     In her fear, she looked again to Solas for some form of guidance. Solas, his eyes never faltering from her, slowly backed away and disappeared into the crowd. 

     The voices around her reached their crescendo, sounding more akin to a raging river. Then she realized the shouting and screaming she heard was no longer the voices, it was a torrential wind sweeping all around her like a vortex. It whipped her hair this way and that. Ghilina pressed her hands more firmly against her ears and tightly shut her eyes. 

     When the wind died, and she dared open her eyes again, she was suddenly surrounded by the stone infrastructure of Kirkwall's Hightown. 

     The sun glared down on her from its zenith in the vacant sky, an oppressive presence with it's unyielding summer heat. What trees she saw around her held drooping, flaccid leaves like wilted lettuce. Even the air was dry, not the usual humid warmth that came with living so close to the sea. The stones themselves looked bleached by the sun. The smell of baking pastries and fine perfumes wafted into the air, mingling with an occasional whiff of odor from the sewers far below.

    In spite of it all, the city was bustling with activity. Citizens swarmed merchant stalls, as others shouted for the attention of potential customers. Nobles strutted like peacocks through the streets, as others hurried to their work. The blending of voices echoing off stone walls was a welcome white noise.

     Suddenly a child's voice rose above the din, "Mummae!"

Ghilina whirled at the sound, catching the bobbing black head of a beaming young elven girl with gray eyes running toward her. Behind her strode the man she knew to be the girl's father: Solas. 

     In his arms was a small elven toddler, the same features as his sister, watching the scene before him serenely.

     Solas watched his daughter barrel into her mother for a hug, a gentle smile playing upon his lips As the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"Oh!" Ghilina exclaimed, looking down into the still-smiling face of this little girl who resembled her so strongly it made her heart ache.

"Mummae, I'm almost as tall as Uncle Varric!"

     Ghilina looked into the face of the child before her and rested a hand on her cheek. She tried to smile, but the muscles of her chin would not obey. They trembled as she felt the sting of unshed tears.

     Her knees buckled, catching her upon the stone. Her arms hastily wrapped around her small daughter and pulled her close, burying her face in the child's hair. The girl's hands lifted jerkily, tentatively returning the embrace. 

When she spoke, her small voice was laced with worry, "Mummae, what is wrong?"

The tears burst forth from her like a charging Druffalo before she could stop it, and suddenly the dam holding them back was shattered. The sounds that tore from her sounded like the wails of a distressed child, raw from the inside. 

     Her daughter suddenly began to fade from her arms until she disappeared, her worried and sad expression never leaving her eyes. Ghilina blinked back tears and looked up at Solas, finding only that he too, along with their son, was fading from existence. Hurrying to her feet, she ran to them, reaching for them too late. 

     All around her, the people faded away one by one until none remained. The scenery around her stilled, and the sky shifted, until everything was like looking through a filter of green. It was no longer the sweltering heat, nor the strange scents, of Kirkwall. This was the fade in it's more base form. She had been here too many times already in the flesh not to recognize it now, even as a dreamer. 

     A shimmer of mist, diffuse, lingered before her as if the air itself was being warped and twisted. 

     Finally, it congealed into form, "I did not mean to cause you pain."

Before her floated the translucent humanoid form of a spirit, it's voice silvery and soft-spoken, like an ethereal child speaking in a large room. 

Ghilina exhaled a breath she did not know she had been holding. 

"What manner of spirit are you?" She asked.

"I am what perches upon the soul to sing the wordless song, a driving motivation for change. I am the glimmer of light in a dark ocean of Despair. I am Hope."

She blinked, "Hope?"

"Yes, you have much in your heart. For the return of a lover, of a future together, of a better world for you both. Full of happiness, surrounded by those you love. But it is so very tangled amidst the thorns of your fears and worry, I cannot nurture it so long as you cleave to them so desperately." 

"How can I shed fear and worry when so many things could go wrong?" Ghilina demanded, "Even if I succeeded in changing the mind of Fen'harel, and returning Solas to my side, there is still so much that could go wrong."

"Then you would face it together. You are not alone, da'len. Even now."

"What do you mean by "even now"?" 

The spirit moved to the side to reveal a sad, lone white wolf across a vast distance. It's gray eyes looked into her's once, then quickly turned away. It faded as quickly as it had come.

Ghilina reached out instinctively, "Solas!"

"You will not catch him, not here." Hope warned.

"What?"

"Here he knows. Endless years spent learning how to bend and twist all things across the veil, his creation, into shapes; into what he wills it to be. You cannot find him here."

Ghilina frowned and looked down at her feet, thoughtful and sad. What the spirit said next startled her, "He sees your hopes as well as your fears. He sees them play out here in your dreams as he watches over the dreamer. He sees the place you hold for him there, and the thought of that future with you has already planted the smallest of seeds in his heart."

Ghilina's brows furrowed with confusion as she searched the spirit's featureless face, "he… wants that future?"

"As surely as he wants the other. He is torn and hurting. But hope for the future he would share with you is one I cannot reach. Only you have the ability to reach it. To nurture it."

"How?"

"You have touched his heart deeper than most ever have. He has tried to harden his heart to you, but cannot. You, only you, are the key to the Dread Wolf's heart. To reach him, though, you must first wake up."

     Waking each morning was no longer the pleasure it had been in Skyhold. There was always that moment when she felt whole again, refreshed by the visions of the night before. But unlike before, her heart retained a lightness it hadn't before. Though her dreams faded with the rising of the sun, glistening off the morning dew from the night's rains, she felt motivation returning. A sense of hope she hadn't felt since the disbandment of the Inquisition. 

And as the knocks on her Inn room door signaled the arrival of the informant, Ghilina rose to answer. Purpose renewed, she was ready to continue fighting for a way to change her lover's heart.

[tchalla-rogers]

Avengers: Shutdown (Part 2)

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Part 1 is HERE. Series Masterlist 

Unknown Location: 2024

Rough hands gripped your arms, ripping you out of the bed you had dozed off in. Your eyes moved around the room fleetingly to get a sense of who just grabbed you, but only the hallway was lit and didn’t shed any light on the suspect’s face. And across dimly lit hall, the man in the quarters across from you, whom you had learned his name to be Marcus, was in the same predicament as yourself.

Your body collapsed to the icy cement floor of the hallway, your mind so full of thoughts that being dragged out of bed was only a blur. Marcus was slumped on the ground next to you and you finally read fear in his eyes, a rarity once you assumed he could only exude nonchalance.

“Aufstehen (stand up)!” one of the men roared and pointed a gun in your direction.

Marcus leaped in front of you, arms raising above his head in hopes that it wouldn’t be his last move while guarding you. “Hey, hey...watch it with the gun.” You rolled your eyes behind him, feeling their stares gain intensity. Even though his eyes painted themselves with angst, his voice remained unwavering.

“Stand up or I’ll shoot you both.” Their words were hardly understandable, but the last few words ran your blood cold, your body reacting before your brain could. Once the both of you finally stood up, they motioned for you to turn and to continue walking down the eldritch hallway.

Once you both swiveled around, you felt the barrel of a gun press into your back. Marcus grunted, affirming that it wasn’t solely you being guided by the fear of death to an unknown location.  

You barely found time to take in your surroundings as fear gripped you and controlled your every motion. Your bare feet padded against the floor, unsure of how long you had been walking. “This is a nice place,” Marcus quipped in order to ease the situation, but the men failing to emit a chuckle proved it didn’t work. “Hey, how does that gun work?”

In pure disbelief, you peered over to your left to where Marcus should’ve been walking, but you were only met with bewildered eyes from the man who was supposed to be guarding Marcus.

“Wo ist er (where is he)?!”

“Wie hast du ihn verloren (how did you lose him)?!”

The men frantically scanned the area, shouts being heard that you couldn’t translate. And quite honestly, there was no indication as to where Marcus could’ve gone. The only affirmation you witnessed of his whereabouts was a gun seemingly being ripped from the trembling hands of his guard by an invisible force.

Your jaw dropped immediately in surprise, albeit enhanced individuals were normal for you. It just never occurred to you why Marcus was there; neither of you had talked about each other's abilities, the thought merely slipping your minds. And now you knew all you needed to know.

You took a step back from the situation unraveling which only caused your guard to raise his gun at you. “It’s not me!” you shrieked, arms raising above your head.

“Geh runter auf den Boden (get down on the floor)!”

“It’s not me!”

The discussion ended quickly when a gunshot rang in your ears and the man fell to the ground in a heap. He hollered, clutching his leg due to the bullet inflicted below his kneecap; his gun was seamlessly pushed a few feet away from him to where he could not reach.  

Before you could even process the situation unfolding in front of you, Marcus was back and kneeling next to the two men weeping in fear on the floor. “Sie sollten Verstärkung mitbringen (you should bring reinforcements),” he stated and outstretched his hand, both of the men slumping to the ground.

He breathed heavily, dropping the gun in his hand to the floor. A thousand questions were racing through your mind and as he turned around, it occurred to you that you really didn’t know this man. At the end of the day, you were held as a prisoner by someone you hadn’t met and Marcus was a mere stranger.

Although you were generously content that he had taken down the two men, you backed up with each step he took forward. “Hey, I know you’re a little scared right now…”

“No shit,” you mumbled.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he began, finally halting his steps. “They brought us out for a reason and they’re going to be wondering why Tweedledee and Tweedledum didn’t make it with us.” You remained hesitant and silent, eyes following his every movement. “I told you, we have something they need. I guess you’ve seen mine.”

The reality of his words hit hard, freezing in your spot. You had wholeheartedly assumed the only reason why “they” needed you was because of your connections. Hell, you knew your father was trying his hardest to locate you and you would bring him right to the enemy.

But, deep down you realized that there was a greater reason, one you hadn’t even contemplated. You never possessed any enhanced abilities, relying solely on your physical training to get through every mission. Marcus’ lips curled into a smirk witnessing your realization.

“Holy shit,” you muttered.

“Down on the ground!” a thick voice boomed from the end of the hall, causing both of your heads to swivel to the suspect.

***

Germany: 2024

Tony slept on the couch every night, awakening in the early morning and using F.R.I.D.A.Y. to hopefully find some more information for the rest of the day until his eyes couldn’t take it anymore. He slept soundly the first night, but the video was gnawing on his brain. And when he found Steve in the kitchen the next morning, he made it his priority to show Steve that video.

Steve vividly remembered that night, fear gripping his soul when you collided with the floor before you both could say “I do”. The sound of you choking for air was woefully unforgettable. You were immediately rushed to the hospital, a miracle that you didn’t flatline on the way there.

Pepper and Morgan went home, not wanting to subject Morgan to how terrifying the situation was for a young child. Everyone else had stayed, although Tony had assured them to return home and he would update them. Then it became Steve and Tony, waiting patiently for some communication on what had happened to you that day with Pepper visiting every day to drop off food and check on the worried men.

The one day they both left for an hour, just to get some fresh air, they returned to an empty bed and an unkempt hospital room you had once occupied as the doctors attempted to calm them down.

The thought had completely slipped Tony’s mind when he was searching for information, F.R.I.D.A.Y. making the suggestion on a night that Tony couldn’t sleep. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had scanned the cameras from the hospital you stayed in the night of your wedding and they had been restored from prior deletion.

Tony sat and watched the video for hours, biting his lip and kneading his hands together in an attempt to come up with something...anything, that could bring him closer to his daughter. Grateful for F.R.I.D.A.Y., again, facial recognition had found Steve and even matched up a suspect from the hospital on German street cameras, confirming Germany was where he needed to be.

That night, Tony packed his bags and informed Pepper about the lead he received. Pepper urged him to go because even if she was hiding her pain from your sudden disappearance, it was burning a hole in her heart every second you weren’t there. It pained Tony to say goodbye to Morgan, even if it was for a few days or weeks, although it was something he wasn’t able to do with you before the wedding.

After Tony showed Steve that video, he couldn’t get the video out of his mind either, even a week later. Tony never thought he would be comforting Steve on their dainty apartment couch as Steve wept. While they both knew what had happened that day in the hospital, they still had no hints or clues as to where exactly in this godforsaken country they had taken you.  

Virginia tried her hardest and Steve appreciated it, albeit sometimes it didn’t seem like it. It took her some time to get accustomed to another Avenger’s presence in their temporary apartment, but it motivated her to work harder.

All three sat in the living room, searching on laptops or using F.R.I.D.A.Y. for further information. It was eerily silent if the incessant typing from Virginia and muttering from Tony weren’t heard, until F.R.I.D.A.Y. had spoken up. “Sir, I have some news.”

Tony looked over to Steve and Virginia and both of them had their eyes on him. News came far and few between this past week and it made him anxious to even reply. “What is it?”

A moment later, the AI replied. “Facial recognition scans show a male being taken a day before Y/N was, I will be searching for his information. On the other hand, sir...my system recognized a symbol on one of the men involved in his disappearance, matching one of the men who took Y/N.” A holographic image showed a symbol on one of their sleeves, Tony’s blood running cold. “Based on additional scans, this looks like HYDRA’s, but it is not quite the same.”

“Holy shit,” Tony whispered, mouth agape.

[all-might-blog]

I am here- Chapter 1

Summary:

The number 1 hero hasn't always been who people think he is now. He had a different name, a different life. It was a small encounter and the passion of his dream that changed it all...

Notes:

I have been wanting to write an origin story about All Might ever since I begun to read the series a month ago. He is my favorite character. Not because he is famous and the strongest and all that, but because he is a complex, strong-willed character I can comprehend and that drew me even closer to him. It was a great dissapointment for me when the last embers of One for all died from inside him, because I knew that nothing would be the same for him or anybody else. A new era was arising, and it would change a lot of things. This is a version of his origin. I've done a lot of research on the case and re-read chapters as well as taken notes on important parts on his past for this. So I hope that my hard works pays off and that this is the closet thing I could have to his origin story. I hope you enjoy the ride as well as feel what All Might feels in each, single moment of this story. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Quirkless

Yagi Toshinori was quirkless. He had grown up watching all the other kids alike get their quirks. Had grown up watching them use them. Grown up knowing that not all humans were born equal and that he had just had been one of the unlucky ones to end up at the bottom of the social hyerarchy.

Yagi Toshinori didn't have a proper family. His mother had left him and his father many years ago when he was wo and his father was barely ever at home. He was the only child and therefore had no siblings to play, argue or talk with. No friends to speak of, either, since he was always being pushed down because he didn't have a quirk that would help him protect himself.

Yagi Toshinori was always alone. Yagi Toshinori tried to hold on to the hope that he would become a hero, even if he was quirkless. Yagi Toshinori wanted to help others. He wanted to be... the Symbol of Peace. Someone people could trust and look up to, someone people could rely on to tell them that it would all be fine.

But...

Yagi Toshinori was a quirkless kid. he was thin and gaunt. He didn't feel loved by his father, or in fact, anyone else. Perhaps he would have gone down the dark path of a villain. Perhaps he would have been someone people feared. Someone who could instil fear and darkness into the hearts of everyone. But he would never allow himself to become like that. He did not want to become a hero just to look good or to be number 1! He wished to help anyone and everyone who needed it. To bring hope and calm into his people. To tell them that it would all be fine because he was there to protect them and make sure they would be okay. He held on to that hope because it really was the only thing moving him forward, the only thing that made him get back up even after a bunch of kids had beaten him down. The thing that had made him cheer himself up whenever he realized that his father wouldn't be home for dinner. The thing that made him think just keep pushing because I will get there even though his goals looked way too far away from his reach.

He would become a hero in some way. He would help and save people. He would do everything in his power to get to that point.

Yagi Toshinori shouldered his backpack with a sigh at how heavy it felt on his back. He had tried to build up strength by working out everyday, and yet he never seemed to build up a single bit of muscle. Maybe it was because of the stress, the fear, the helplessness that people infected in him, scared that a villain would suddenly attack them. That won't be there as soon as I find a way to become the symbol of peace, he thought, walking down one of the many hallways of his school. Students walked to and fro all around him, their expressions carefree- for now. As soon as they left the school, it would all be fear and stress until they got into the safety of their homes. But even then they were not absolutely safe. Toshinori turned a corner and nearly crashed into another student.

"WATCH IT, deku!" he growled at him. Toshinori yelped, jumping back. The student shoved past him, nearly making him fall. He was used to how people treated him, but it was still painful.

He already longed for the quiet and empty of his home. Maybe it didn't feel like home, but it did feel like a shelter he could return to whenever he needed quiet. Then he would go to the park a few steets down and run laps and exercise by climbing trees or doing stretches and that sort of things. He liked these days, since it made him focus on his goal and his work, making him forget about the rest. It was a bliss to be able to escape all the bad thoughts, even if it was for a little while.

Toshinori took the public bus to his home and quickly walked all the way to his block. His house was far too big. It was always empty except for the times his father came and himself. He didn't feel his father's presence when the older man came, however, since he never paid attention to him. Not that he minded it too much; sure, he wished that his father would pay attention to him, but he was cold and disconnected from his son and only cared about what good grades he got and that he left the house as soon as possible and live his own life away from him. Toshinori already knew that he wanted to get into U.A, the best hero school in the whole of Japan. He was just thirteen, but it would be next year the time that he would have to find a way to somehow pass the exam. Of cousrse, there was the problem that he was quirkless and all that. He wished every day for something to happen, for the rules to change or a miracle to happen. Anything that could get him in would work.

He opened the front door and entered the house, leaving his shoes neatly by the entrance and closing the door behind him before running upstairs to his bedroom. He changed out of his plain, black school uniform and into his favorite jumpsuit, putting a headband over his messy, blonde curls. He packed inside a small sports bag a towel and a bottle of water. He then went back downstairs, put on his best (and only) pair of trainers and went back outside. He knew that this time he wasn't going outside to start a new school day, but to train and become a hero. The air felt different to him and he felt a lot better dressed in his jumpsuit as he walked across the street towards the park.

It was a six-minute walk away from his home, which was pretty descent. If his father dedcided to call him in early, he wouldn't be too far away. Plus, he could stay there all afternoon without fear of returning too late. And at this time, it was usually empty of people, so he had it all to himself. He entered through the broken gate (no one had bothered fixing it after many years) and walked over to the bench he usually leftbhis stuff on. He then started his daily routine of running laps around the entire perimeter of the park as a way to warm up. Barely a few minutes passed before heis concentration was interrupted by the arrival of someone else. However, he continued to jog, breathing in rythm with each footstep he took.

"You look very determined," he suddenly jumped, but didn't stop running, when the person he had seen enter the park caught up to him. It was a woman, wearing a black and purple jumpsuit. She had long, black hair and a kind-looking face. Toshinori shruged.

"Yeah." he said, focussing his eyes on the path ahead of him.

"You come here everyday?"

"Yeah. Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." she said. The continued running in silence for a little longer.

"Is it fine if I ask why you do this?" she asked.

"I want to get stronger. Right now, I am weak." he said between pants. She hummed.

"I see. Is there a particular reason why, if I may ask?"

"I want to help people." he replied. "If I am quirkless, then at least I can get stronger, right?" a short silence.

"I suppose so. So you want to be a hero?"

"Yeah." he sudenly wondered why he was even speaking to this woman. Was it because she hadn't rejected him for being quirkless? "I want to be someone people can look up to."

"And you believe you can do it?"

"I've been hanging on to that hope ever since I was told I was going to remain quirkless for the rest of my life." he anwsered. The woman remained quiet for a moment longer.

"You sure have the heart of a hero, boy." she said. He slowed down to a stop. She realized that and stoped as well about five meters away from him, turning around to look at him. He looked thin and yet... strong in the evening light. A promise.

"You really think so?" he asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to well up in his eyes. That had been the first time someone had told him such words of encouragement. His little ember of hope suddenly seemed bigger.

"Not all of us have to have quirks to become heroes. It just takes a strong heart, and perhaps a little boost. But if you have a heart capable of feeling, then I believe you can be called a hero." she said. Toshinori quickly wiped at his eyes as a tear began to fall.

"No one... no one has ever..." he mumbled.

"I once read an old book. One of my favorite quotes was 'the essential is invisible to the eyes'. I believe that a heart is essential. People just tend to think thatbhaving a quirk that will make you strong is enough... but a heart is necessary as well." she said. Toshinori limited himself to nodding, fearing that he would burst into tears if he dared to speak. "I believe that you could also become a hero with that heart of yours, young one. You aren't wasting your time... in fact... I think that some day, everyone will know and speak your name."

Toshinori tok a pair of deep breaths to attempt calmong himself down. Emotions were swelling up inside him, the woman's words echoing in his head.

"Do you take opportunities, my boy?" she asked.

"As many as I can if it means to reach my goal," he said in a trembling voice. She gave him a smile.

"If you would like, I could be your mentor." she said. "I am a skilled hero and I would like to help you. What do you think?"

Toshinori's mouth trembled. "Th- that would be... awesome doesn't describe it." he said. She laughed.

"Is that a yes then?" she asked. He nodded his head. "I come here every day, and asuming that you do too..."

"Yes. I do."

"Perfect. My name is Shimura Nana." she replied. "I will be honored to make a hero out of you."

"Toshinori. Yagi Toshinori."

[therandomfics]

Three Days: 3

The morning of your father’s funeral couldn’t have been more stereotypical. While the days before had been sunny and clear, that morning you woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the window of your childhood bedroom. 

Sonny was already awake, having showered and dressed, and was downstairs helping keep things coordinated and controlled. You could hear his voice down the stairs through gritted teeth begging your nephews to sit still for just a moment so he could turn on the television and get them something to eat while everyone else was getting ready. 

After a long shower filled with contemplation, you dressed in a sleek black pantsuit and clasped your favorite strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair dried naturally into a frizz of curls which you pinned back but didn’t smooth - the rain wouldn’t allow for any such thing, anyway, and your father had always loved your “crazy hair” as he put it. 

Downstairs, you found Sonny eating drinking coffee and staring out of the kitchen window. Your nephews were indulging in cartoons and your brother and sister in law were in the living room fussing over what tie the nephews should wear. 

“Good morning Prince Charming,” you whispered as you brushed past Sonny, pausing only to press a kiss to the top of his head. “We have to leave in about ten minutes.” 

He grasped onto your wrist as you moved past him and pulled you back towards him, planting you in his lap. “I already made you coffee and there’s toast in the oven.” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him tenderly several times and then pulled away sighing. “When this is all over, can we go away?” 

“Just say where.” He squeezed you gently and nuzzled his face against your neck. 

“Anywhere but here. You know I was happy to leave here. I don’t like being back too much,” you admitted and wriggled away from him so that you could put something in your stomach before the funeral. 

You shook your head silently to yourself as you sipped your coffee and nibbled at the toast that had been waiting for you, warm in the oven. The dread was settling in - and while you knew the grief would be there for ages to follow, you held steadfast to the idea that something was going to go wrong at the funeral home. 

“We gather here today to celebrate a life of love, laughter, happiness, and dedication....” 

“He was known for his character - he could make you laugh anytime, anywhere. We could surely use something like that here with us today.” 

“I met him when I was just 10, and he was 9....” 

The stories went on for sometime as you sat in the family room, tucked under Sonny’s arm and softly sobbing each time you thought you’d gotten a grasp on your emotions for the moment. 

“The faithful departed will always be in our hearts and minds. I was thankful to meet this kind, gracious man because of his daughter, Y/N, who as you all probably know was my best friend for the longest time...” 

You sat upright and stiffened, your body entirely rigid at the familiar voice sharing a story about your father. It couldn’t be, there was no way. 

“I spent so much time with the family that I felt like I was part of it, and he never let me feel any different. Even after Y/N moved away unexpectedly, I spent so much time at their home. He truly felt like he was my father, too,” he continued. 

You could have sworn that even though you were hidden from view, he was looking directly at you. 

Rising from your seat, you grabbed your clutch and walked out - out of the family room, down the hall, and out of the funeral home. It was still raining and you hurried through puddles and raindrops to get to the safety of the smoker’s cove, finally slowing to a stop once you were under the awning. Sonny hadn’t followed you, probably stuck with one of your nephews begging to play with his phone or to wear his watch, like they loved to do anytime someone “new” was around.

“Look at you.” Puddles splashing caught your attention as you turned to find your former best friend, Connor, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets. 

“My father would appreciate you being here,” you replied, attempting to remain casual. 

“He would have appreciated you staying here instead of running away,” he replied smugly, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

You took a step back and folded your arms. “That wasn’t gonna happen and you know it.” 

Connor let out a small laugh and stepped towards you, careful to leave enough space to seem harmless. “You overreacted. You’re good at that, y’know? Overreacting, that is. Never were too good at holding your liquor, but I guess you remember all about that, don’t you?” 

“Look,” you began, holding a hand up to silence him and figuratively stop him from moving foward again. “I’ve come to terms with what happened that night. I know it was fucked up and -” 

“Yeah it was pretty fucked up how you just left after you finally acted on your feelings. You ran away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him and scowled. “I never acted on anything. Clearly you don’t remember what happened like I remember.” 

From behind, you heard a door slam but the rain had begun to fall harder and silenced anything beyond the seconds of noise you were able to distinguish. 

“You had a few too many drinks and we had sex. You woke up the next morning and freaked out like a child, and I never saw you again. I found out a week later you’d moved.” He rolled his eyes dismissively and reached into his suit pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, one of which he promptly lit. 

“Did you hear yourself? I was drunk, and when I woke up I had no recollection of the night before. Instead of owning what you did and admitting you were a disgusting predator, you told everyone I confessed my love for you and then I got cold feet. Text message after text message and DM after DM, I was being harassed by those girls you led on for so long, and I can’t tell you how many times I freaked out and got tested for STDs because of you. But you think it was consensual? You think it was okay? Did you never wonder why I left you without saying a word and moved out of the state?!” You were screaming by the time you stopped speaking, shaking and nauseous as your former best friend turned assailant stood before you with little to no remorse. 

“You’re saying I raped you?” he asked, brow arched with a hollow laugh. “You were begging me.” 

“Begging you to stop,” you interjected with a hiss. 

“And then you ran off to New York to become a whore.” 

“Fuck you!” you bellowed, launching yourself forward to strike Connor in the face repeatedly. It didn’t take him long to shove you backwards and onto the cold cement you’d been standing on only moments before. 

You landed with a thud and watched at Connor turned to walk away - but before he knew what happened, Sonny had connected his fist with Connor’s jaw in a manner that left your former best friend lying on the cement near you. 

Quickly, Sonny pulled you to your feet and brushed you off, making sure that you were okay. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, looking down at Connor who’s lip was bleeding as he tried to sit up defiantly. 

“Hey, I wouldn’t be getting up if I were you,” Sonny snapped, looking sternly at the man who was sitting on the ground. “Mass has a fifteen year statute of limitations. I’d do whatever I could not to make it worse right now.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, glaring up at Sonny. 

“Dominick Carisi Jr, Manhattan ADA,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. Sonny pulled you closer and kept a protective hold on you. “And this is my wife, but I think you’ve met.” 

“Fuck,” Connor grumbled under his breath and let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Well go ahead, what are you gonna do? Arrest me?” 

“I’m not a Detective anymore, but I’m sure I can make some calls.” Sonny turned to you and cupped your face in his hand. “Lets get you inside, alright? I need to make some calls and the family is about to leave for the graveside. We just have to get through a few more hours and we’re free, babe, alright?” 

You nodded slowly and glanced at Connor on the ground. If you went back inside, he could leave and never be heard from again. That’s how you had wanted to live your life. But, now Sonny knew what had happened, and Sonny wasn’t going to let it rest until he was brought to justice. Torn between fear and comfort, you tucked your clutch under your arm and dashed back towards the funeral home, slipping back inside to join the family. Sonny had his hands full, but you knew that was his true calling. 

The ride back to New York was quiet. Eerily quiet. Sonny had worked with victims for years and had a particular knack when it came to helping people in times of sorrow and trouble. You wondered, though, if it was different because you were his wife. Maybe it was different because you’d buried your father and experienced an outcry in the same day. Still, there was very little you had to say and feigned sleeping for the first hour of the trip just to give yourself a break. 

“Hey doll...” Sonny whispered, placing his hand on your knee tenderly. “I’m gonna stop to fill up the car. Do you want anything?” 

You shrugged with as much sleepiness as you could fake and shuffled in your seat so that you could sit up. “I’m alright. We’ll be home in a few hours.” 

“I’m taking some time off of work,” he added casually before he got out of the car and locked you in. 

A few minutes later he returned and filled the car up with fuel, then rejoined you inside and started the engine. 

“I got you a water,” he said, handing you a bag that also contained a variety of snacks. “And stuff.” 

A whisper of a laugh left your lips and you sighed. “Are things ok?” 

“What things?” he inquired. 

“Us.” 

“Why wouldn’t they be, Y/N?” he asked, merging back onto the highway and accelerating. 

“I never wanted you to know.” You twisted your wedding ring around your finger absently and fought back the urge to cry, despite how painful it was for you. 

He nodded absently and stayed silent for a long moment, glancing in his mirrors as he tried to find the right words to say. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and averted your gaze out of your passenger window. 

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please don’t think that this changes anything between us. If you feel like you’re damaged goods or you’re broken, you’re not. And I love you, no matter what. I don’t love you any less knowing the troubles you endured and kept to yourself. In fact I love you more because you’re so strong. You turned your pain into prosperity. You let yourself be loved, and you let yourself love, too. That’s something that I think is really hard for anyone who’s been through something like you’ve been through. I’m sorry that he exists and that he did such a criminal thing to you, but I promise you I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure he rots for it. But, Y/N, I swear on everything, I’ll never stop loving you and I’ll never look at you different, and I’ll never be mad at you because you chose to keep something so private and difficult to yourself.” He glanced over at you and frowned when he saw your eyes welling with tears and spilling over. 

“I don’t deserve you,” you choked out through sobs, covering your mouth and finally allowing yourself to cry without barriers. 

Sonny signaled and pulled off onto the emergency shoulder of the highway, putting the hazards on and placing the car in park. He unbuckled his seat belt and practically climbed over the center console to envelope you into his arms, protective and loving as he had been from day one. “You do, and I deserve you. Remember what you said? We’re meant to be together.” 

“Please don’t ever leave me,” you whined, pulling at his shirt to bring yourself closer. “Please.” What he heard, and what you didn’t say were the same - please don’t see me any differently, please don’t make me find your love again, please keep me. 

“I wouldn’t have anyone but you by my side,” he promised and kissed your forehead softly. “We’ve only got a little while left and then we’re home, alright? Let’s order takeout and eat on the balcony, okay? I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Okay,” you said with a sniffling nod. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get back to normalcy with you.” 

_______