#he’s a retired doctor oh goodie

[grace-of-flash-but-not]

Professor today said people with social disorders and personality disorders are “incapable of change” with the implication of changing negative traits and extremes. Lovely of her.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Worried About You

Chapter 4 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed On Me (House x reader)

“I need Vicodin,” Greg says to you, walking into your office. Well. Your office when you were here. You scowl slightly at the day-old coffee in your line of vision and think about how you’ll be scolded by the other people you share the office with the rest of the week when you inevitably forget that it’s there.

“Funny. I’m not your dealer,” you say.

You and Greg had hit it off, so to speak. Much to everyone’s chagrin and surprise, you continued seeing each other inside and outside the hospital. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about. Psychiatrists (or psychiatric doctors of nursing) are the worst patients and the best repressors. You did what you had to to be able to function like a member of society, but you were as fucked up as the rest of them. And you see Greg is similar. USA-renowned, if not world-renowned, diagnostician—but that was all he had besides a bum leg and a healthy dose of chronic depression and reliance on opiates to function.

When you finally had sex -heterosexual sex, dick in pussy sex - it was a frenzy fueled by alcohol and weeks long of teasing, and you saw glimpses of his leg in the midst of it and he saw the scars scattering your arms, but beyond the “oh, so you tried to kill yourself” he said to you when he edged you on the brink of orgasm the umpteenth time (and oh, boy, was that a mood killer) there were no comments about either.

But he kept you around and you weren’t entirely certain of why. It’s only been a month or so, and he’s not calling you his girlfriend or telling you he loves you, but he’ll still wine and dine you before railing you. And you don’t know if it’s out of obligation, if he feels like even though you’re not a hooker he has to pay you for sex, or if he genuinely enjoys your company. You think about how dissimilar you are to Wilson and how that’s the only person he keeps close. You wonder if maybe you remind him of his live-in ex that you’re almost certain he never got over. It’s a good time though, regardless. You make each other laugh. You both love The Rolling Stones. You begrudgingly agreed to be dragged to a monster truck show one night (“Wilson won’t come with me” he whined) and in return you made him go with you to see a local band perform that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in.

It was that sacrificing that made you pretty close to a real couple. Wilson pointed it out to you and he no doubt pointed it out to Greg. You made a snarky comment about his marriage and you wonder if you should compare notes with Greg to make sure you’re both not using the same lines.

You don’t know why you keep him around either, so it’s fair. It’s nice to have a fuck buddy, you suppose, and it’s also nice to almost like them as a human being rather than a sex toy. It’s certainly not because you think you can cure him, because you know you can’t. You wanted sex and you didn’t want a rehash. All things considered, he was a thorough lover and cared about getting you off as much as himself, which somewhat surprised you given how selfish he can be in other settings.

It’s not a bad arrangement. At least not right now.

But you’re fucked and you know it. It’s why you were drawn to work with kids in the first place. At least you’d always have a leg up on them. Someone out there thought you were sane enough to be rent an apartment and be a licensed prescriber.

Oh. Speaking of.

“Come on. You have a license to prescribe. Just once,” he begs.

“Yeah. No. I think you’ve got me confused with Wilson.”

“You’re much hotter,” he offers.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It got you in my bed.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah. Fair. But that’s as far as it’ll get you. You can be lackadaisical with your license, but I’d like to keep mine until I want to retire.”

“How’d I get with such a goody-two-shoes? Even Wilson will play.”

“He’s not now, apparently. What gives?”

“I bet Cuddy clinic hours that I wouldn’t take Vicodin for a week. They’re all convinced I’m an addict.”

You snort. “Okay. I hate to point it out so bluntly, but this is prime behavior for addiction. Searching all channels to get a fix because you can’t go a week without it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to do the week. But I need someone on standby. I’m only doing the week, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it prescribed afterward.”

“Chronic pain is outside my scope of practice. Best I could do is a suboxone MAT and say I’m detoxing you off Vicodin and keeping your substance use in check, but even that’s pushing it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“You can’t keep the clinical and the personal separate?”

“Nope. Could you? If I was your patient this week, would you be able to? Bringing your ex-girlfriend into this is what got you into this mess. Don’t bring me in to try to fix it.”

“I’m not asking you to fix it. And you have a medical background. I’m asking you to write the order I’m asking for. I know how to manage my pain.”

“Why don’t you get through this week first? Then maybe you’ll take me up on the suboxone,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You think I’m addicted?”

“Jesus Christ, Greg, you’re smarter than this. You know what happens if you consistently take opiates. I know you need them for pain. I’m not denying that. But to think you’re immune to the side effects? It’s habit-forming. You know this. You’ve been taking it for years. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms. You should be doing this in a detox facility if anything.”

“I work in a hospital. Opiate withdrawal never killed anyone, anyway,” he says, seeing no point in bluffing to you any longer.

“Maybe not. But you’ll suffer. I’ll meet you halfway, hm?” You say, looking up at him. “I’ll prescribe you comfort meds for the week. Ease you through it. Mirapex, vistaril, zofran, clonidine, bentyl…”

“Most of those aren’t exactly in your scope. If you want to be technical.”

“If I lose my license for any of those the board has far too much time on their hands. But you’re right. I’ll get Chase to sign them off.”

“Chase?”

“He’s the most desperate to get laid out of the three. I bat my eyelashes enough he won’t even question who the scripts are for.”

“Chase? Look at him. If he’s not getting laid none of us should be.”

You scoff. “I guess pretty boys do it for you, but not for me. But no…I can tell. He reeks of desperation.”

“It’s desperation to be liked by authority. Not desperation for pussy. He’s swimming in it.”

“Okay. We’ll see if he folds,” you say, winking.

Greg sighs. “Is this some kind of game?”

“What isn’t, with you? It’s all games, it’s all puzzles.”

“Why Chase?”

“I told you. I know you’d rather me go to Cameron, but unfortunately, I don’t think flirting would get very far with her. Foreman will never fold.”

“You don’t have other doctors you work with you could ask?”

“Greg, it’s just fucking comfort medications that you probably will have too much pride to even touch. Again. Not risking my career for you and letting people that actually respect me think I’m a nutcase because I slept with you.”

“So… you want to fuck Chase. Right?”

“Where in that insecure little man brain did you think of that? It’s your other head, right? I must want the sexy Australian because all the other girls are doing him? Because I want to ask him to prescribe meds? For you?”

He shrugs. “Matter of time. ‘Oh, I had to blow him, that’s the only way I could get him to do this’ or ‘oh, honey, good news, he said if I sleep with him three times a week he’ll prescribe your Vicodin’.”

“Stop with the immature bullshit. If I wanted to fuck him, I’d just leave you, not worry about the meds, and do it. Grow up, Greg,” you mutter, walking away.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenges, hating himself as the words leave his mouth, hating how unattractively juvenile he was coming across. But there were reasons, the need to push you away to see if he would get pulled back, the need to be contrary, the need to know. Know what, exactly, he’s not sure.

He already knows he’s in for one of the worst weeks of his life. Even if the withdrawal symptoms are mild, he’s going to be in terrible, unmanageable pain, and all the Tylenol and Motrin in the world aren’t going to even come close to touching it. And he’s going to be more miserable than usual. No pain relief. No euphoria from the high when he takes just one… or two… or three extra than he needs. He knows he’s addicted. He tries to roll it off his back, saying it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t change perceptions of him, it’s something he needs for pain, and it doesn’t affect his ability to practice medicine.

But sometimes he’s afraid. When James looks at him in concern but doesn’t offer any solutions because there aren’t any real ones, are there? He needs opiates for pain. Nothing else will work. Whether it’s pure heroin or your gold-standard synthetic hippy bullshit medication-assisted treatment… it’s still an opiate. Naloxone embedded in the pill or not. Having to go to a clinic to get dosed and having to have checks and balances on his use or not. It’s still an opiate. There’s still a stigma. It still pinpoints his pupils, lowers his respiratory rate, and hopefully, hopefully, takes the edge off so he can function but he knows. Addiction isn’t his specialty, he never wanted it to be, but he knows. One day it’ll be his last Vicodin, or the Vicodin won’t work anymore, and hey, you know what’s instantaneous? Spinal morphine. Can only use that card once or twice, have to tell Wilson he’s in excruciating pain and guilt him into enabling. He’ll only go so far. And then…well, then it’s IV heroin or fentanyl, whichever is easier to get, whichever is cheaper.

Greg knows that addiction treatment centers are revolving doors. He knows that you saw the same people back and forth and back and forth sign in and sign out, sign in and sign out. Change their medication plans a million times. And some of them still died anyway.

He’s afraid. He’s afraid of dying by his own hand by accident, alone and blue, nodding off forever. Sometimes he wishes for it, an end to the pain, but he also doesn’t want people to find him like that. A predictable end to a predictable story. World-renowned diagnostician died the same way a poor broke junkie did on the streets. Hooked on drugs, overshot it.

And it’s not that he thinks he’s better than those people. He knows he is those people. Even prior to his disability he dabbled in drugs, never enough to create a habit but enough to definitely indicate the potential of a problem. He’d tried almost every illicit substance “just to see how it felt” by your age. It feels good. Drugs feel good. It’s how they work. And your brain wants to feel good. It’s how they keep working and you keep using.

He knows. He’s in a vicious cycle he’ll never claw his way out of.

And you know it, too.

And yet you’re wasting your time fighting with him instead of walking away.

Why?

He doesn’t know that.

“Yeah. Why don’t I fuck him?” you snark back, turning on your heel and walking back toward him, drawing him out of his pity party and back into the misery he created for no reason other than to drag you down with him, make you choke on it with him. “I don’t want to. That’s why. I want to fuck you, although believe me, that thought is getting less and less appealing every time you open that fucking mouth and speak.”

“It does have better uses,” he quips, shrugging, almost visibly relaxing at hearing he was chosen, that he hadn’t scared you off yet.

You roll your eyes. “When does the detox start?”

“Now. It’s been a couple of hours.”

“So you wanted to kick it off and try to put both of us in a shitty mood to start with? Not your brightest idea, huh?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything and you nod, feeling slightly more in control now that you rendered him silent without any arguments. “Go home. You can’t think clearly if you’re going to be actively detoxing.”

“I still have to make them think I can function without it,” he says after pausing. He would’ve lied to you too, put up a façade with you too, but that’s the thing about addiction. It’s easy to hide dependence to people who don’t know what to look for, but you do. And you would smell it on him.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why take the bet at all?”

“I’ll get out of clinic hours.”

“Right. You would never do something like this to prove a point,” you say sarcastically, leading him out of the office. —————- “Why are you with him?” Chase asks. “And you care enough about him to ask me to use my medical license for a script.”

“You’ll see I don’t care enough about him to risk using mine,” you counter. “It’s comfort meds. Just write the scripts and I’ll leave you alone and we can go back to never talking, which is honestly how I prefer it.”

“I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I’ve heard enough, though.”

“Does he… what does he say about me?” he asks, a look between bewildered and terrified crossing his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Forget I said anything. You’re fine, I’m sure, I just don’t want to be entangled in the team. I already work with Wilson. One facet of House’s life needs to be separate from me.”

“Right. So you’re asking me to prescribe him medications.”

“As a doctor. Which is your job,” you point out. You sigh, looking at the pretty blond man sitting in front of you. Maybe Greg was right to be afraid. Most women your age would be begging to spread their legs at the thought of carrying this man's children. He's more stable, at least comes off that way, and he doesn't have an addiction and a crippled leg.

“Why stay with him if you know he’s an addict?”

Why are you staying?

You look at him for a second, reading his face. “You hate people that struggle with addiction, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them. I just think they don’t realize the pain they cause and it’s unfair to the sober people in their life.”

“Everyone is someone’s burden,” you say.

But why did you take him on?

“So you think he’s going to detox.”

“I know he’s going to detox. Which is why. Once again. I’m asking you to prescribe him comfort medication for the aforementioned detox.”

“You guys really like each other, huh?”

Why did he take you on?

“No. I want my week to not be miserable. This might lessen it a little bit.”

“Oh, and you’re deflecting just like he would.”

“Just prescribe me the damn meds, Chase.”

“You’re going to be miserable anyway,” he says, shrugging as he takes out his script pad. “You owe me one.”

You know he's not wrong.

“Yeah. You’ll get a psych consult on the house,” you agree.

“Why’d you ask me?”

You sigh. “Can’t ask Wilson. Too close. So it had to be one of you three. Foreman just wouldn’t. Cameron would ask me too many questions and she’d tell everybody.”

“And me?”

“Process of elimination, really. Thank you, you know," you say, deciding to leave out the part where he gets off on sucking metaphorical dick for the chance at appealing to authority. Sometimes you wish you were as crass as House. You come up with some good ones if you could only find the guts to just say them.

“He’s not going to take them.”

“Probably not. But I’m doing my part.”

“As what? His girlfriend?”

“His… friend,” you clarify, and you walk out of the office with the scripts in tow to fill at the pharmacy. Later you hand them to him and he takes them without a word. He opens all the bottles, takes one of each pill in his hand and he pops them dry. Terrible for his esophagus, you tell him, and he mutters something about how he’s wrecked his liver and everything else has to catch up. He opens a bottle of wine and you lean against his chest, barely processing the cheap soap opera flashing in front of you on the TV. He's already sweating, you can feel his shirt damp against your cheek. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he made a show of taking all those pills in front of you. Maybe to show your efforts were appreciated without having to say the words, even if he thought it was stupid. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to make this all suck less. Maybe it was because this was bending the rules a little, a detox with help, however minor, and he always wanted to see how far he could push before the consequences could roll in. Let’s cheat a little. Instead of a slice of pizza on a diet let’s have a hydroxyzine in a cold turkey detox.

He asked you to come over tonight but he hasn’t said much of anything or initiated much either. Why does he want you here? To know he’s not alone this time, that you’re willing to face the brunt of this pain with him when it returns, like Stacy was unwilling to?

You don’t know.

You don’t want to know. It’s best he keeps that information in his own head where it belongs. You don’t want to get too attached, too close, too entangled. This is fine how it is.

But you still wake up drenched in sweat that isn’t yours.

[libraryofloveletters]

truth or dare.

A game of truth or dare turns into something more.

 Spencer Reid x Reader, Derek Morgan x Reader 

Warnings: fem!reader, alcohol consumption,.

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6 k

----

You promised Penelope that you'd come out with her for “team bonding night” as she calls it. You had cancelled on the last one because you weren't feeling well, which was partially the truth but you just needed the night to yourself. As you stepped through the doors of the BAU, the overwhelming smell of coffee and papers hit you like a ton of bricks. Walking to your desk, you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder, “good morning darling” the one and only Derek Morgan smiled at you and you couldn't help but smile back. “Good morning to you too Derek” you sat at your desk, sinking back into your chair. “Tell me y/n, how do you do it ?” “do what?” you looked at the man who was now leaning against your desk “how do you ignore baby girl’s pleas to come out with us?” “I don't ignore them per say, but it’s not any different than Hotch getting if the team bonding time” you chuckled. “Hotch has a kid, that’s why” you looked at him with a slightly amused face. 

The sound of Penelope's heels come clicking across the floor before you could say anything back to him “Y/n! oh you’re just the person I was looking for” “what can I do for you pen?” She smiled at the nickname “just double checking that you’re not bailing on us again tonight, I mean even pretty boy is coming” you glance at the doctor who was flying through his paperwork, smiling at him. “I suppose, since even Spencer is going, I'll be there” “oh goody!” Penelope attacked you with a hug causing you to laugh. “Tonight at Rossi’s, 7:30. He's cooking for us, please don't be late” she smiled as she walked back to her bat cave.  

7:30 arrives and there you are standing outside of Rossi’s door. You knock once, Dave opens the door for you and pulls you into a hug “Bella! come in! you’re right on time and might I say, you look beautiful” you blushed at his comment, which was a normal occurrence but you couldn't help it. Dave was like another father to you, always checking up on you, making sure you take care of yourself. You stepped in and it smelt like home, you smiled to yourself as you walk into the kitchen. Per usual, you greeted by a hug from Penelope but this time, she hands you a glass of wine as well. Smiling at her, the two of you walk over to the rest of the team, hugging them one by one. The team has never seemed so relaxed to you, even Hotch was smiling, and out of a suit. Emily and JJ sat at the table, each sipping on their own glass of wine. Derek and Spencer were at the other end of the table, Derek was laughing while Spencer on the other hand, was pouting. You walked over to them “Derek what did you do to Spence to cause to pout?” you rested your hand on Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer smiled at you “hi y/n, you look nice” “hi Spence, you don't look so bad yourself” you smiled at your resident pretty boy and turned your attention to Derek when he started speaking. “I didn’t do anything to him! we were -” before he could continue, Rossi’s cut him off by clinking his wine glass “dinner is ready!” 

Dinner was lovely, you all chatted and caught up on your personal lives, it was mostly Reid’s rambles of whatever book he was reading or Hotch and JJ exchanging stories of Jack and Henry. You sat back in your chair and smiled at your little family. “game time!” Garica shouted as she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, we all followed her except for Rossi and Hotch who retired to his study for a drink. Once everyone had found a seat, we decided to play a few rounds of truth or dare.

 “Oh ew never!” Emily shook her head when JJ dared her to kiss Morgan “come on Em, you don't want none of this?” he used his hands to refer to himself, you and Spencer laughed at his cockiness. “Alright..” Emily looked around and landed straight on me “y/n, truth or dare?”, you take a deep breath in and mumbled out truth. Prentiss gigged to herself before asking “alright truth, if you had to sleep with anyone in this room, who would it be?” you were shocked that she’d ask you that but it didn't take you long to answer her. “Reid” Derek smirked at you as you shook your head, giggling. Spencer choked on his wine at the sound of his name leaving your mouth. Emily smirked, while JJ and Penelope laughed at Spencer’s reaction.

 After a few more rounds, the night come to an end. JJ was taking Emily and Penelope home, you had planned to go home with her but because of her kids’ carseats, there was no space for you. Hotch had already left and you didn’t want to disturb Rossi, so you were suck with Morgan and Reid. “Great” you thought as you hopped into the backseat of Derek’s car. He pulled out of Rossi’s and started talking to Spencer, you could hear them but you weren't focused enough to hear what they were saying. Before you knew it, they had pulled into your driveway. Waking up to Spencer shaking you slightly, you smiled at him “are we home?” you stepped out of the car and walked to the front door. Opening the door, you noticed both boys had followed you inside. Turning around and looking up at them “am I missing something here?” Derek yawned. “it’s late, do you mind if we crash here? it's easier than driving pretty boy home and then having to get home myself” You were too tired to question him and you trusted them both with your life, what's the worst that could happen ? “sure, make yourselves comfortable anywhere. I'm going to change and then I'll come back with some blankets and pillows for you guys” you headed to your room to change and striped down to your underwear when you heard a crash. without realizing you barely had anything on, you ran out into the living room to see that Derek and Spencer were having a pillow fight with your couch cushions. “What happened to being tired?” they turned around at the sound of your voice and looked like two deer in headlights, you weren't sure why until you felt your air conditioning hit your bare skin. You looked down to see you were in only your underwear “oh..” you walked back to the room and got dressed. You sat on the bed in shock and laughed when you thought of their reactions.  

Grabbing a few blankets and pillows, you returned to the living room to see Derek passed out on your couch. Smiling at the sight, you slipped a pillow under his head and put a blanket over him. Spencer was sitting at your kitchen table flipping through the current novel you had been reading “I didn't know you liked Jane Austin” he smiled at you. You smiled back, walking over to the kettle to put some water in it “would you like some tea?” “yes please” the two of you sat at the table in silence, but a comfortable silence. Spencer was one of your closest friends, you enjoyed your time together, even if it was just him rambling about something he read or saw. You never understood why the team always cut him off when he did that, you thought it was adorable how happy he got. “No one ever picks me for things like that” he tapped your leg with his foot under the table, you had zoned out and didn't notice he was talking to you “hm? sorry babe, what did you say?” he blushed at the nickname “I was saying no one ever picks me for things like that, it’s always Morgan or Hotch, even Rossi, but never me” looking up at him, you knew what he was talking about. “oh Spence, it’s not like that. you know I've always thought you were handsome. Morgan, he’s just muscles and likes to flirt, a “blood in the nose” thing as Garcia puts it” the two of you laughed “you think I'm handsome ?” “of course, why wouldn't I ?” Spencer blushed at your comment, again. “y/n, can we watch a movie or something ? I'm not really tired” “sure Spence” 

Both of you walked towards your bedroom, leaving Derek snoring on your couch and made yourselves comfortable on your bed. Turning on the tv, Spencer picked out a foreign film and began translating it to you. Leaning back against his chest, he wrapped his arm around you and before you knew it, you had drifted to sleep, the sound of his voice being the last thing you heard. 

The next morning

Derek woke up to an empty living room, wondering where pretty boy was considering he was supposed to be right there with him. He got up to look for him, the door to your bedroom was slightly opened, he stuck his head in to find you and Spencer cuddled into each other on the bed. Spencer’s head was rested on your chest, his brown curls all over the place. your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his arm across your belly. Derek snapped a picture and sent it to the BAU group chat. 

Derek: looks like these two had fun without me 

Penelope: OMG!!! MY BABIES!!! don't you dare disturb them! 

JJ: such cuties 

Emily: get it Reid ;) 

Hotch: Dave you own me twenty. 

Dave: damn it. 

Turns out Hotch and Rossi heard enough last night. 

taglist: @avenging-fandoms (I thought you’d like this :) )

[tmnt-brave-new-world]

Interaction guidelines- The Rules RPs are currently open, please read the rules before interacting

The Rules

- Please Read the rules before interacting

-This is an Ask and RP blog. Rps will be taken under consideration, on a case by case basis

- Absolutely No one under 18, preferably 21+. I’m not planning to censor anything on this blog. If you are not of age, do not follow or interact. You will be reported and blocked

- Patience is a virtue. The Mun works an incredibly difficult and stressful job, that, because it pays the bills, takes priority. This blog is a platform for fun and interaction but can’t take precedence over the real world. Sometimes I’m super busy and it could be awhile before I respond to a post, or an RP. If you aren’t capable of patience don’t interact.

- Please be respectful. The level of respect you show this blog and others is important to the Mun. if you aren’t capable of acting in a mature fashion, you will be blocked. BE NICE…

- Absolutely no popup RPs in ask, without having discussed or plotted a story with the Mun.

- If you would like to RP please dm me with a story idea.

- This is not a tcest site. I’m sorry I don’t know how to write tcest, and don’t have a desire to do so. I feel that I would not be a decent or supportive rp partner if I’m not able to give it my best, and thus do not wish to mistreat or neglect those in the community who enjoy this type of RP

- No randomly appearing in the lair without being invited. Donnie has gone above and beyond to give them safety in their sanctuary. If you weren’t invited, you are not welcome in their home, as is the case with any stranger.

On to the boys!

- The boys are 2014/2016 Bayverse turtles but are mature adult men. Human age wise they are around 50, but maturity and body wise, somewhere in their 30’s respectively. They do not age the same as humans due to the properties of mutagen and their turtle mutant base type

- This is an AU set several decades into the future- please read the prologue to help understand a little more about the world they live in

- They live in a skyrise, penthouse. With state of the art- Donnie certified level protections put into place. Nothing gets in or out, without his knowing. He does not take the safety of himself or his brothers lightly

- The Boys do not belong to anybody and will not belong to anybody. They are free to interact with whomever they would like, in any way that has been discussed and planned between the two muns.

- They don’t know your muse, nor have had any previous interactions with your muse, and thus are not in love with your muse, or have an established relationship with your muse.

- If you want their love and attention you will have to earn it, just like you would in any other type of interaction

- Absolutely no god-modding. Example: its your 3rd time to respond and you’re attempting to have Leo princess carry your character to bed. This is not a natural flow to the story, and not going to happen.

- The boys may like certain features, or admire certain characteristics, however they are open to all body types, shapes and beings, so long as they feel a connection.

A quick explanation as to what the boys do with their free time in a world that knows they exist.

Leo: “We each found our interests and talents opened up a several viable options that had lead us each to a “unique” position.” Leo led as he gathered his thoughts. “Keep in mind after we managed to stop Krang and those who worked closely with him, the world was vulnerable. As far as my brothers and I were concerned, we had fought too hard and for too long for someone to simply slip into the power vacuum we had created and to continue to harsh reality Krang had created for Earth’s inhabitants. Due to this we each chose to do what we knew how to do and could most easily adapt as challenges presented themselves.”

He paused for a moment as he thought about the hardships, they had each faced and managed to overcome as they slowly helped right the world and returned her to standing on her own. A shimmering blue jewel among the galaxy and other worlds that had become familiar with the planet and its amenities.

“During our years in the resistance we managed to acquire wealth and assets. We were able to accumulate quite the little nest egg using those. Along with our acquired influence it opened many a door which in the old world would have remained not only closed but permanently locked to us.”

“I became a strategic investor. Buying the remnants of properties, businesses and services and either helping them to return to what they once were or repurposing to better suit the needs of this new era and turn a profit. It proved to be very profitable and allowed for me to continue to churn out profits which allowed for me to seek other properties and businesses to invest in or connect the right individuals with each other in away that led to my ability to offer the initial capital for a small percentage of the quarterly earnings. It helped people to create jobs and led to a lot of normalcy for those who desperately needed.

One hand washes the other, and this in its essence has lead to my own sector of the Tartaruga brothers incorporated. I have a multi-billion dollar operation on Earth and several branches operating throughout the universe currently.”

Donnie: “As Leo has said,” Donnie commented calmy, “our time resisting and fighting lead us each to our own talents. I spent a lot of time wearing many hats, which included, chemists, doctor, surgeon, agronomist, engineer, electrician, etc. to put it simply I spent a lot of time learning how to save lives, human and otherwise, and the best way to stretch our available resources in a way which led to people surviving. I also had to learn how to create medications which were so commonplace that many died without having them available. Most antibiotics don’t have a very long shelf life and when those ran out initially, we were in constant jeopardy of losing lives to the simplest of bacterial infections. My knowledge, and subsequent research lead to significant improvements and branching into many other factors, and shall we say break throughs.

Needless to say, the value of others wants, lead to my ability to fund the needs of the many. In my sector, I have several leadings areas including pharmacy, medical research, agrarian development, as well as generalized research and development in multiple fields from domestic to military. For obvious reasons, more detailed information is strictly classified.”

Raph: Raph chuckled as Donnie glossed over his closely guarded research. He was willing to kill to protect his research and continue to control the aspects that allowed him to fund the bulk of his interests and common welfare of those he blanketed with his programs. “They ain’t lying. After the world came back from going to shit, it took awhile to get it back up and going. Additionally, there were a lot of people, generally those not from this world that were way too determined to make sure we failed. This led to a lot of infighting and groups struggling for control. That tends to lead to a lot of shady business if you know what I mean, and it wasn’t like we had any type of social services such as police, fire fighting, or anything else. I initially took charge in areas like these.

I took a lot of care to train groups so that they worked together and were prepared to handle whatever problems came. It took a lot of time to cultivate proper training programs and help prepare people on how to help a traumatized world get back to functioning in a healthy way. I still help do this on planets and areas that are in recovery.”

“That being said however, my primary interest and “job” if you want to call it that, is training mixed martial artist prize fighters for the world federation galaxy league. Simply put we aren’t the only species that likes to watch trained athletes test their skills against one another within their respective brackets, or on specially contracted prized fights. I used to fight for the league and earned a lot of titles and prestige. I won most fights and was often the favorite to win after a while. I’m semi-retired and only occasionally enter the ring now days. However, I take and train promising talents for the league and other groups. I have also trained personal bodyguards for a variety of individuals.  Different specialties come with different specifics and contracts as well as costs. It takes a specific might set for each, and a lot of time to drill into a thick skull.”

Mikey: Mikey laughed at the turtle in red, “Oh yeah, and you were the king of thick skulled back when we were young, and dumb.” He barely dodged the throw pillow that was chucked at his head.  “Let’s see for me personally,” Mikey flashed a big grin, “I happen to be a master of many trades. During our days in the resistance, I learned a lot of different tricks to help make the food rations we had on hand not only palatable but nutritionally sound while feeding a literal army of people! So when it was possible I spent a large amount of time learning how to take fancy old world recipes and revamped them with food sources that were still available or recreated them with off world goodies. I also still paint, and love to collaborate with others to create amazing new concepts!”

His face darkened for a moment as he thought back to the early days of the resistance. “There were so many people who in the blink of an eye had lost everything, and unfortunately it was insanely common to find kids who had either been separated from their families or were the only survivor. In a lot of instances they were traumatized and it took a lot of creative thinking to coax them out of their shells and help to reteach them on how to live. This happened fairly frequently with adults as well. Because of this and what seemed like a never ending shortage of textiles, I had to learn and create new ways to make things and often times help find things that brought the sparkle back to peoples eyes. Because of this however, I have a multimedia conglomerate that allows me to work in a wide area of creative outlets. The fashion world is a flippant mistress, but there are a lot of ways in which one can compete and stand out. It’s led to a lot of lucrative contracts with those who are “starving” for the next amazing piece of creatively, or at least that’s what they tell me. The great thing about taking high end contracts and commissions is that a lot like my brothers, the revenue lets me continue to reach out to others. I fund a program that includes shelters called “Uncle Mikey’s” for those who are missing, exploited, or just need help. I also teach cooking, and practical skills for those who need them, and they are streamed to community centers such as local libraries, after school programs, and the like, to try and continue to help those who never received a chance to learn to do things due to the world kind of going through an apocalypse level event.

[vampiresuns]

Such You and I

✴︎♈︎ SUCH YOU AND I ♈︎✴︎

2.8k words. In which Valerius worries about Anatole and finds it impossible to be the Consul in front of him. When it comes to him, he will always be his uncle. He will always be Valeriy. Set as a companion piece to ‘Creature Comfort’.

This mentions Jamil, Alec and Leon, who belong to @apprenticealec​.

“Clean water sources, especially if we can get a way to pool the infected water back so we can study it are a priority, the chain supply for the flooded district completely broke, and you need to speak to the Guild of Merchants about it. A new group of nurses has been taken to the Lazaret this morning, and according to three different accounts we should get more court magicians to see whether or not this disease has a magical origin. Did I miss anything, Consul?”

Valerius watched Anatole as he made a sprint outside of the room, considering having him stopped. He was about to but decided against it. Bringing Anatole by force back would only make whatever had gotten into him worse, though he knew his nephew enough to have a couple of ideas about what it could be. 

Foolish boy, he thought, yet kept his assessments to himself despite a couple of tries from Lucio to rouse a reply out of him. He would rather keep his nephew away from his former hate-fuck’s mouth, thanks very much.

He had no choice but to continue this horrid meeting on his own.

His anger towards Aelius was measured: it was about leaving a meeting in such a manner and allowing his feelings to get the best of him, leaving him alone in an useless, frustrating position. How dare he leave him when he knew he had begun to hate his job so much, the fallout of it becoming too big for the satisfactions it brought too quickly. Valerius didn’t mind being ignored, he needn’t people agreeing with him to assert himself; he hated being embarrassed and being played a fool in a Court where he was the only adept Courtier. 

He was responsible for almost every office and he was already about to go postal about it, no need for his nephew to leave a meeting in such an unbecoming fashion. 

So yes, as the Consul he was furious, but as an uncle, not as Valerius of the Cassano of Vesuvia but as Valeriy Radošević, brother of Vlad, son (sort of) of Florentino and Mircea, he was worried sick.

‘Lilu’ had stellar Court records. Of course, there were a couple of incidents here and there, but overall no one else of the younger Court members did as well as Anatole. He had checked, being the Consul allowed him some leeway in demanding certain papers to be delivered to his desk.

Anatole staying was less of a matter of proving himself (his notes and his record keeping were impeccable, and if something were to be missing, he knew his nephew would know how to make up for it), and more of a matter of strategy. Lucio, whether anyone wanted it or not, was going to die. Perhaps the Plague would take all of before it took him, but he couldn’t outlast it. If he died, Satrinava would become the Countess and in that case, Valerius planned to book his office and leave in the hands of Anatole because no ambition of his was big enough to stand having that woman as her boss. 

Incompetent goodie-two shoes. Lucio should’ve never been the Count, he didn’t have any sort of political capacity and whatever old man Spada was on when he appointed him as his successor proved to be a stronger drug than those Valerius was aware existed. But Nadia, a Prakran, former war enemy of Vesuvia taking the position was suspicious. What were her territorial ambitions? What was the true position of her desires for the City? She couldn’t both be Lucio’s wife and someone who pretended to care about Vesuvians. 

It didn’t even work as a publicity stunt, and Valerius knew all about caring for publicity. But she was good, and he couldn’t stand her, so the sooner Anatole took his duties from him when Lucio finally left this world with a pile of unsolved bullshit for them to deal with, the better. 

Anatole was supposed to be there to prove himself a worthy Consul to Satrinava, in case she took over and decided bringing someone from outside was better than having a Cassano for a Consul. A friendly reminder of how inadvisable that was, so to speak: the County was Vesuvia’s head, but the Consulship was its neck, and the head turned wherever the neck wanted it to. 

Even through his machinations, Valeriy-The-Uncle came through. Anatole was grieving. They all were. Anatole grieved Paris, his maternal aunt, who had died from a blood disease unrelated to the Plague. He grieved the death of Vesuvians, he grieved the death of Anzano and was worried about Amparo who hadn’t caught the plague while tending to them by a miracle. Anatole had too many duties which weren’t his responsibility, like Valerius himself, and yet shouldered them with more excellence than he himself did. He tended to keep longer hours and he still grieved.

There was also Alec, Jamil’s protegée and Anatole’s friend, who had died under Dr. Devorak’s care — while that had been her own decision, it had made Anatole and the Doctor stand on weird ground, all of the sudden. He grieved that too.

Valerius was sorry for it. He didn’t pity his nephew, he wasn’t stupid. Anatole was never to be the subject of anyone’s pity and if anyone ever did have the gall to have such an inferior feeling towards him, then they’d have to have some words about it with Valerius. Instead, he was sad about Anatole. His little pest was never meant to be a creature of hardship, yet the world cared little for that. His little pest deserved to be happy, more than most. 

And his little pest had run directly into a plague ridden City at the mere mention of his friends’ sadness, and Valerius suspected it was so he didn’t have to deal with his own.

That, or Anatole was running back to Leon. If he was, Anatole was more of a fool than Valerius ever thought his nephew capable of being. Granted, he didn’t always understand his choices in partners, and he suspected neither did Anatole about his own. Though meaning no offence to Jamil’s friend — for once — he truly did think Anatole could do better than Leon. 

He could, for example, find someone who was willing to stay for him, withstand his shitstorm of a job with him, not out of selfish interest but out of love for Anatole. He deserved someone who thought the sun rose and set with him, and the moon shone to illuminate him only. Call him a sap, an old romantic, but Valerius believed it, and he didn’t believe Leon was capable of it. 

After the meeting he settled in the library, giving notice to his office to please let him know if his nephew came back. He picked a book at random and paid absolutely no attention as he waited, looking out of one of the windows instead. He supposed it was a bit hypocritical of him to judge Leon for that, when he knew Jamil was in town and he couldn’t even get up his own buttocks to see his friend. 

“But it’s different,” he muttered to himself. 

Was it? He was going to stand by thinking it was, and it wasn’t like it didn’t put him to shame. He was well aware he should be there for Jamil, or at least to try and reach out; however their history was different, more complex, more difficult. Leon wasn’t the reason Anatole had dramatically declared at the age of 21 he would never marry, pretending he didn’t wish for romantic partnership. Anatole wasn’t out there refusing such connection because he thought deep down, he was doomed to repeat terrible relationship patterns. 

It didn’t matter most people in his family had had good, healthy relationships. His parents, his actual parents, Florentino’s Cousin and Mircea’s brother, had been a dumpster fire waiting for an explosion to befall on them, and he was their son. What if nature won over nurture? He didn’t want to find out. Anatole wasn’t like him in that regard… or was he? Was he like himself and his father who feared good things would elude them and therefore found a way to cope about it? Could it be that Anatole’s way to cope was hope? Was it trying no matter the stakes? Was pulling himself up with an inner strength and clarity Valerius had seldom seen in anyone?

Anatole couldn’t be that way. If the Gods, whomever those were, had to spare someone of that, it would have to be his nephew, right?

Two hours passed and Valerius decided to put the book he had picked up where he had found it. After confirming Aelius had not come back to the Palace, he retired to his home, deciding to walk the way between the Palace and the Palazzo, with Anatole still on his mind. His brother and his sister-in-law would not be happy when Valerius returned on his own with no idea of what it had been of Anatole but a highly probable guess.

Still, a highly probably guess was the same of no guess at all when it came to worried parents. 

“What do you think of it?” He asked them as they waited. 

His brother’s eyes furrowed in concentration in the same way Anatole’s did. “I think,” Vlad said, “he’s old enough to know what he’s doing, Valeriy.” 

“So you’re not worried?”

Vlad snorted. “Oh, I’m worried sick, alright. There’s an epidemic outside, but I also know that Anatole never does things without a reason, even when he’s being impulsive.” 

“Now, I wouldn’t call him impulsive. Foolish, perhaps.”

“Hey!” Louisa said, throwing a dressing pillow to Valerius. She was the only one who could ever get away with such an act. “My son is not a fool.”

“Running after Leon is a foolish reason.”

“Wasn’t Leon the musician, friend of your friend?”

“He is. You met him for Anatole’s last birthday.”

“The one Nemesi said he didn’t know Toly liked them older, wicked sense of humour, wore a very pretty dress?” 

“That one, yes.” 

Vlad and Louisa looked at each other, the former grimacing, the latter sighing. Louisa spoke first. “Val, darling, go to bed, I think this is one of those matters Anatole will have to sort out on his own. Don’t be too hard on him, he’s going through a lot. I am worried about him, but I’m more worried about him having a nervous episode than anything else. And if you’re worried about his safety, do remember Anatole has your temper and a wonderful proclivity to make people trapped into situations with him that they will later regret.”

“I can’t understand how you can be so resigned.” 

Louisa shrugged. “I’ve been in dangerous situations per my own choosing, and I was exiled for it, and you know this. I am worried but I also trust my son’s capacities. Let’s just say I understand Anatole in a way you two could never do, just like there are certain things about him you two understand in a way I’ll never be able to, as well.

“I will never be able to understand his particular brand of intensity, as much as I love it, respect it, cherish it and find it enlightening, and you will never be able to understand what it’s like to risk your life for that which you love in the same way I will.” 

“Two words, Lulu, dearling, Balkovian and war.” 

“I think she’s right Valeriy.”

“Of course you side with your wife.”

“Idiot,” Vlad said as he kicked his brother’s foot, “Balkovia is different, and you weren’t there in the war anyway, your duties as the Consul called you too son, and in my case, it’s not love for the place, per se, which made me stay. I am proud of how everything turned out all things considered, and I am really fucking done with the Federation every day of my life nonetheless, and I don’t want to do anything with its politics. I do my job for the people I think are less terrible than the other, and that’s it. You know how Anatole feels about this City. My son could fucking bleed himself dry for it if no one stopped him, and you know it.”

“This City isn’t worth it. Don’t give me that look, Consul Cassano my ass. It isn’t… and neither is Leon.”

“Is Jamil?”

“Vladislav, I am warning you.”

“What I’m saying, you temperamental idiot, is that we measure what we love in different ways that don’t always make sense for the people who don’t love them.” 

“How is that supposed to be soothing? How is that supposed to not worry me? Anatole deserves better.” 

Vlad stood up, looking down at his brother with exasperation, using every inch over him that he had in his advantage. “Maybe he does, but I don’t know Leon. I do know how it feels to be judged by people higher and mightier than you solely because of an accident of circumstance — and so should you Valeriy. That you act like it doesn’t mean Jamil’s mother—“ 

“Say one more word, Vladislav, I dare you.” 

“Oh, do you?” 

“That is enough!” Louisa’s voice rang through the parlour. “We’ve never micromanaged our son, we’re not about to start now. Vlad, we should go to bed, your brother can do as he pleases. Or at least, we should wait for Anatole somewhere where he won’t find you too arguing about him, because if you make my son feel guilty I won’t speak to either of you for a week.” 

Both of them dropped it. One was married to Louisa, the other had known her for years and was one of the few people who got to see the full extent of who Valerius was. His sister in law had been nothing but supportive throughout all his time knowing her, many times being a comforting presence with her witty commentary about what to do with politicians and Courtiers Valerius didn’t like. Fighting with her was tempting because right now he would fight with anyone, but it was a stupid move. 

The truth was Louisa was right — not that he would admit it right now. The only physical place Valerius had ever been happy in was the Radošević Vineyard in one of the Balkovian peninsulas. His relationship with Vesuvia was complicated at best, obligatory at worst and when it came to musicians who brought with them their adventures of the world and easy laugh, and very warm feelings maybe they weren’t so different, after all. 

Anatole arrived well into the night, still crying. Trying to make the least fuss possible, he tried to get to his bedroom through the Consul’s home office and then the library. Valeriy never used that office anyway, so there was no reason for him to be there, or anyone at all. Yet, because his luck couldn’t get any worse, he was there, sitting on the desk, skimming over a book he closed shut with unnecessary force when Anatole made it through the door. Of course his uncle was angry with him.

“Listen—”

“What on earth were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, Valeriy.”

“You clearly weren’t. You left me stranded in a meeting, which you left running, after talking back at me as if I were what.”

“You’re not going to tell me off for snapping at the Count?”

“Ostentatious of you to assume I care what happens to him.”

They both held each other’s gaze. Anatole’s eyes were puffy, his nose was red with cold. It was so obvious his nephew had cried all the way back from City Centre. Valerius sighed, he found it really, really hard to be the Consul when Anatole would always be his nephew. 

“But more importantly,” he said, his voice softer as he left the book aside and came down from the desk, “you worried me sick. Aelius what was that?”

The dam broke. Anatole’s lip trembled as he tried to speak but instead of words, tears and crying overtook him. He cried with silent sobs, trying not to make a sound at all, as if it would all go away if he was quiet enough. It reminded him of himself, it reminded him of his older brother. Perhaps he had been correct and they weren’t so different after all. 

“Oh, come here, just don’t stain my shirt.”

“I come from outside.”

“I don’t care.”

“Valeriy—”

“I said I didn’t care.”

Anatole gave in and hugged his uncle, who was well aware his nephew was passing his mid-twenties, but crying in his arms it was like Anatole was 10 again and asking why did he have to be so weird. 

“My foolish, wonderful nephew.” 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, no you’re not, and in any case, you’re not a fool much different than myself… How was—” no, he couldn’t ask about him. Instead, he sighed into his nephew’s hair. “Why don’t we go let your parents know you’re home alright?”

“Alright,” Anatole sniffled. “Were my notes okay for the meeting?”

“They were spectacular, they always are,” Valerius was’t lying. “Now, no more work, let’s go find my brother and your mother.”

[sweet-taiyaki]

Cherry Blossoms in the Spring 🌸 (Part 3)

Pairing: ProHero! Katsuki Bakugo (Dynamight) x ProHero!Reader (she/her)

Featuring: All Might, Deku, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido, Shoto Todoroki

Word Count: 3.4k

Synopsis: After your encounter with All Might, you felt like you need more training to become a better hero. Bakugo’s agency takes you in, but things go not as planned. 

Quirk: Telekinesis: Levitate any object by mental force. Her blue horn glows when she uses her quirk to enhance mental capacity. 

Warnings: Mentions of blood

“Hey, kid,” Toshinori said. “No need to be alarmed. It’s just a little blood.”

“I’ll get those punks that did this to you. How can people be so insensitive,” I helped him up.

“No one really knows me anymore. After I retired, a lot of people were devastated, but once they saw young Deku and young Dynamight, they know that they are safe. That’s what really matters. The combination of justice and peace has been recognized by the Japanese Hero Billboard Chart making them the top two. But I also heard that you are in the top ten, young Aura.”

Was I dreaming? The Symbol of Peace knows me. “I want to protect people and have people rely on me. Like they did with you, All Might,” I said tearing up.

“Your hero work is pretty spectacular, and it shows that you have compassion and trust for the protection of the people. But you can’t hide in the shadows anymore. People need to know who you are, and you have to break out of your introvertive shell. I know you can protect people, but show the people that you do. That’s how more people will trust you. You are not alone. Heroes all over would be willing to help you. We build each other up to fight crime. We are here for you,” All Might smiled. I felt alone, but after this conversation with All Might, I don’t feel so lonely anymore. His head continued to bleed.

“All Might, I have to get you to a hospital.” I carried him to the nearest hospital. Not only was he frail, but he was also shaking. I told the ER doctors what happened, and they took him away into a room. I couldn’t go in since I was not a relative of his. I sat in the waiting room, awaiting what they had to say. My curiosity grew larger, and I started to panic in the chair. If only I could have stopped those thugs, I could have saved All Might. I saw Kirishima with an elderly woman with the same head injury. “Kirishima,” I yelled for him.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here. Help me with this lady,” he said. I helped the woman on a stretcher as Kirishima told the ER doctors what happened. It was almost the same situation as All Might. “Damn thugs tried to assault this dear lady. Thankfully, Bakugo caught up to them and brought them to justice. But what are you doing here,” he asked.

I started crying. It’s my fault All Might is here. And the fact that he could possibly die, I feel his blood is on my hands. “Hey, hey now, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll help you through this,” he hugged me as I cried into his chest.

“I—I—It’s—A—All Might,” I said through my tears. “Some brats threw him to the ground and beat him up. I aided to All Might, but they could still be out there assaulting other people. It’s all my fault that they got away. I—I couldn’t protect him.” Kirishima’s eyes widened as I mentioned All Might. Bakugo slowly walked into the waiting room to see Kirishima and I.

“(Y/N), what happened,” Bakugo said. After explaining what I witnessed with All Might. Bakugo’s heart dropped. He called a lot of people to be here to wait for the results of All Might. Deku came in with tears in his eyes. We all thought the worst. “Who were those idiots? What did they look like, (Y/N),” Bakugo said.

“There was four of them. They looked like they were in their upper teens. Were they the same as the ones that jumped the elderly lady,” I asked.

“I assume so,” he said. “I put four thugs in jail, but knowing that they also did this to All Might, I could stretch their sentence for assaulting the Symbol of Peace. I’ll kill them myself,” he said angrily.

After about a half hour, the ER doctor came out. “(Y/N),” he said. I went up to him to hear about All Might. “Yagi is stable. The bleeding has stopped, and I suggest that he stays in our care until he makes a full recovery.” I look back to Deku and Bakugo and nodded to them, assuring them that he is okay.

“Thank you, doctor. Is he able to see anyone,” I asked.

“He only wants to see Deku at this time,” the doctor said. Deku’s ears raised and he slowly walked to All Might’s room. All the heroes started to leave when they found out that All Might was okay. Bakugo and I stayed behind to know what he said to Deku. I kept fiddling with my hands with anxiety as we sat in silence.

“It’s okay, (Y/N),” Bakugo said putting his hand on mine. “We caught the guys, and All Might is okay. There’s no need to beat yourself up further.”

“I thought I could do better. I want to save and protect people, but I also want to bring the thugs and villains to justice,” I said.

“Kirishima and I are a team to do both of those things. It’s a lot for one person to do both. You should come over and train at our agency with us. We’ll make you stronger and support you with any fight,” he said. After what All Might said about coming out of the shadows, maybe joining a team would help my fighting style and protect people.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I could use the training. Thank you, Bakugo.” I got up as Deku came out of the room. I saw All Might smile with a thumbs up before his door closed. “Will he be okay,” I asked.

“Yeah,” Deku said. “He should be good as new in a few days. His strong spirit won’t let this incident hurt him.” We all left the hospital.

“Hey, blue horn. Tomorrow morning, we’ll train,” Bakugo said.

“Right,” I replied. He smirked as he walked the other way.

……………………………………………………………………

7 am

I arrived at Bakugo’s agency and was greeted by the secretary, Mio. “Welcome, Aura. We’ve been expecting you,” she says. She hands me paperwork to ensure my safety consent due to their proprietary equipment. I signed it and she was staring at me.

“Take a picture, Mio. It lasts longer,” Bakugo said turning the corner. He was wearing casual clothes, quite baggy and comfortable. He looked at my paperwork then back at me. “You’re early, you idiot.”

“To be fair, I didn’t receive a certain time. When do you usually train?”

“8 am, usually. You normally wake up this early?”

“Well, I went for a run this morning before I came,” I said.

“You must be hungry,” Bakugo said putting on a jacket. “Let’s grab something to eat.” He walks out and I turn back to Mio.

“Would you like something? I can bring something back,” I asked her.

“A pastry would be nice,” she said.

“Of course, I’ll be back.” I followed Bakugo. We walked through the streets and he immediately got recognized.

“You’re amazing Dynamight! He’s so handsome! The way you blasted that villain was amazing!” He was annoyed with the crowd, but he knew he had to deal with it considering he is the number one hero.

“A lot of people admire you,” I said softly.

“Tch,” he said. We arrived at the bakery for pastries, fruit, and tea.

“Dynamight, what can I get for you,” the cashier said.

“Y’know next to me is the number six hero. I think you should show her some respect,” he said to her. The cashier looked at me then back to Bakugo.

“I apologize Dynamight. What can I get for the both of you,” she said.

“The pastry, tea, and fruit package, please,” Bakugo said. The cashier nodded and cashed him out.

“I could have pitched in,” I said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bakugo said. “This is for my agency and I needed an extra hand.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“C’mon, I’m not that heartless. Would you like anything else,” he smirked.

“No, this is great for everyone.” We walked back to the agency and met in Arena Gamma. Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido were there.

“Morning, (Y/N). Good to see you,” Kirishima said as Bakugo and I set down the food and drinks.

“Ugh, I’m starving. Thanks, Bakugo. You should do this more often,” Kaminari said.

“It’s not often that we have a guest. (Y/N) will be training with us today. Later, we’ll patrol the city,” Bakugo said. Everyone started to eat and drink, but I didn’t see Mio. I saved her a pastry, a cup of fruit and a cup of tea and walked up to her at the front desk.

“Hey Mio. I don’t understand why you can’t join us, but I brought you this,” I handed her the goodies.

“Oh thank you, (Y/N). I’m just a civilian. I don’t really affiliate with hero work, even if it’s a breakfast meeting,” she said.

“Your safety is important, but you should at least be included. I hope you like working here.”

“I do,” she said. “I wish I was appreciated more, but I know the heroes have a lot to handle. I handle the paperwork, marketing, internships, and media with this agency. Sometimes it’s a lot, but I like what I do.”

“You do a wonderful job,” I smiled.

“Thank you, (Y/N) and thank you for the pastry.” I return to Arena Gamma and everyone is changing into their hero suit. We walk to the arena. It’s an open space with windows. I would think there would be weights or machines to help with our strength.

“Uh, where’s all the equipment,” I said.

“We don’t train like that,” Sero said.

“Today, we’re doing close combat against each other,” Kirishima said.

“W—What?”

Mio was at the live board controlling who would be going up against each other. First, it was Ashido and Kirishima, then Sero and Kaminari, then Bakugo and me. I watched the fights as they didn’t hold back on their quirks and fighting skills. There was a recovery center onsite just in case someone was severely hurt. Kirishima hardened his body to protect himself from Mina’s acid and threw it back to her. Kaminari tried to electrify Sero with his tape to help his current, but ended up dumbing himself. Sero exited the arena and looked at me. “You’re up, newbie,” he said.

I was up against the number one hero. We entered the arena simultaneously. “On your marks,” Mio said over the intercom.

“Don’t hold back, newbie. I expect to beat you at your best,” Bakugo said. The start horn goes off and Bakugo charges at me. We take a few punches from each other then he began to charge his gauntlets. My blue horn starts to glow.

AP SHOT!

The explosion engulfed the entire room. The smoke disappears to reveal that I put a force field around me. I send an invisible fist to Bakugo through the smoke. He falls to the ground. My glow is almost blinding as my telekinetic field grows larger. I’ve never tried this wide of distance before. He charged at me and flung his sweat at me. There was a brief moment where we looked in each other’s eyes of determination. Both of our faces were content and soft, but I was back in battle mode. My force field caught his sweat and I threw it back to him, causing him to blow himself up. After the smoke dissipated, I saw Bakugo, motionless. I ran over to him.

“Bakugo,” I yelled. I felt his torso to see if there were injuries. He flinched when I touched his left side. I closed my eyes as I healed his internal bleeding. His eyes flutter open. “Are you alright?”

“What? So you can heal too,” he said annoyed.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but something came over me. I’m sorry,” I said.

“You are powerful. The look in your eye makes you determined, but I am better than that,” he barked as he walked away. I walked back to the observing room.

“That was amazing, (Y/N),” Kirishima yelled. Bakugo walked in and the room got silent.

“We’re not finished,” he said. He got close to my face. “I’m not done with you. I will beat you. You got that?” I got even closer to his face.

“I’ll meet you in the arena,” I said in his face and walked away. His eyebrows shot up.

“Are you turned on or is it just me,” Kaminari broke the ice.

“Shut up, dunce face,” Bakugo barked. “I will win this fight.” We enter the arena. His eyes look more determined in this round than the last. I charge at him and he dodged his way to get behind me. He punched me in the back, but I got up instantly. My horn started to glow. I closed my eyes to perceive the area around me. I could hear Bakugo about to punch me when I take all of his limbs and hold him in the air. He struggles to reach his gauntlet. “Tch, you don’t know that I’ve been storing my sweat this whole time. HOWITZER IMPACT!” I was thrown across the arena with his explosion. My ears rang so loudly. The smoke disappeared and Bakugo came over. He started talking to me, but I couldn’t hear anything. His face got soft. I know he didn’t want to hurt me, but he wanted to win. And he did.

“I can’t hear anything, but you win,” I said getting up. I was about to exit the arena when I saw Bakugo grab my arm. His voice was fant, but I believe he said that he wanted to get me to the recovery center to get my ears checked.

We arrive at the doctor’s office and the doctor told Bakugo that I have temporary hearing loss due to his quirk. He turns to me, and attempts to hold my hands. I flinch away. I was scared of him. If I trained more with him, would my hearing be lost completely? I couldn’t help but tear up with anxiety. My thoughts clouded my mind since it was the only voices I could hear. I left the doctor’s office with Bakugo and started to walk home.

…………………………………………………………………..................

A few days later, my hearing came back. I took a break from hero work since most of my power is being aware of my surroundings. I felt useless, but I’m glad I have my hearing back. I decided to go for a walk through the park near my apartment. The park was filled with cherry blossom trees and rivers. I walked along the river, watching the fish dance in the water. Cherry blossoms were blooming on the trees. Some would cascade in the water. It was so pretty and so calm. I love it here.

I saw a wave of ice in the distance appear out of nowhere. Shoto. I ran close to the scene to assist Shoto if he needed help. He was fighting a villain with a water quirk. There was snow and ice everywhere. Shoto eventually froze the villain and helped the police take him in. “I’ll melt the ice when you have him restrained for questioning,” he said. He looked over to me and walked over.

“Hey. You’re number six. I’m Shoto. I heard what happened. I should have warned you to go over to Bakugo’s agency. Some interns that went there completely lost their hearing, which is why everyone that trains there signs a consent form. You should consider yourself lucky. Thankfully, you have your hearing back. Here’s my card, I can help you train properly, if you’d like. Deku visits sometimes as well.”

“Thank you, Shoto,” I said. “It means a lot that you want to help me grow.”

“Hey, I know you are quiet, like me. But you have a powerful quirk and your actions are sometimes louder than words,” he slightly smiled.

“Shoto, the police need you,” an officer said.

“I’ll be around, Aura,” Shoto winked.

A group of girls next to me were lovestruck over Shoto. “Isn’t he the hottest thing you’ve ever seen? He’s so amazing! I love him!” I rolled my eyes and left the scene.

…………………………………………………………………………

I began to walk home when I saw Bakugo walking in my direction with Kaminari. I hid in an alleyway to avoid talking to them, but that drew more attention to me since they thought I could be a thug. Dammit. I suspended myself in the air, but my glow was pretty bright. When they turned the corner, they knew it was me.

“(Y/N),” Bakugo said softly. I lowered myself to greet them.

“Hi guys,” I said.

“Where have you been? I miss you. I enjoy training with you, but after Bakugo’s rampage, I could see why you don’t want to come back,” Kaminari said.

“Shut up. I feel bad enough,” Bakugo said to Kaminari. “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” he turned to me.

“But you needed to win. You’re number one. Heroes win, even if it’s training,” I gritted my teeth.

“You didn’t deserve to lose your hearing,” he said. His face was soft. He seemed genuinely concerned for me.

“Yeah, I didn’t,” I barked.

“Hey, wait, if you didn’t come at me so hard, I would have won the first time and this conversation wouldn’t have happened, you idiot,” he retaliated.

“Uh, I’m gonna go before you start fighting again. I’ll see you back at the agency, Bakugo. Bye, (Y/N)! Miss you,” Kaminari left. Bakugo and I exchanged annoyed looks.

“I offered you help to make you stronger, but I didn’t think you would beat me, which is why I had to put you in your place. I got distracted by your eyes in the first fight,” Bakugo said.

“I’m sorry that I remind you of a girl you previously fell in love with. I’m not her, Bakugo. I want to save and protect people and bring villains to justice,” I said.

“You can��t do it alone, (Y/N). Believe me, I tried to get these extras off my back, but I learned that they helped me to where I am today. Let me help you.” There was a moment of silence between us. I sighed.

“Follow me, I have to show you something,” I said to him. I took him to the park with the cherry blossoms.

“What is this place? I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.

“I don’t live too far from here, but I come here to relax and organize my thoughts. Isn’t it pretty,” I asked. Bakugo looks over to me admiring the cherry blossoms.

“Yeah, it is something,” he said. We sat by the river and watched the cherry blossoms float on the water. “Hey, you wanna know a secret?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Kirishima sleeps with a teddy bear,” he laughed.

“Aww,” I said. “But he is a teddy bear, so it makes sense.”

“Sero cries at romantic movies,” he laughed even harder.

“Oh please, I bet you do too,” I said.

“No way,” Bakugo barked. “That crap is so fabricated.” I pushed him lightly, but he ended up losing his balance and fell into the river. “You are so dead!” He pulled me into the water and I start to laugh. His angry expression goes away when he saw me laugh. We get out of the water and sat on a bench as we air dried ourselves.

“You want to know a secret about me,” I asked.

“Tch, sure,” he said.

“I’m an orphan. I lost my parents to a villain when I was six. I’ve pretty much been alone since, but then I attended Shiketsu High. My motivation to be a hero came from my parent’s death. I wanted to help families be reunited with their loved ones. That’s why I became a hero,” I said. Bakugo smiled.

“That’s amazing. I also have a secret,” he said softly. “I don’t compare you to Takara. You are powerful and you have a beautiful soul, which is why I like you.” I blush. He has a crush on me? The cherry blossoms blow through the wind onto the river as we look into each other’s eyes. Bakugo then gets up.

“I have to go, but I’d love to see you again,” he said.

“You know where to find me,” I said. He smiled then walked away.

Part 4

[crowleyellestair]

Spice- Regis Blurb

AN// just a situation I thought of. I might add more to this but who knows

Regis was buzzing as he strolled down the path. A smaller building, down past the duchies garden, was apparently a bakery. Geralt was a close friend of the Higher Vampire, and was highly aware of his food problem. Regis hadn’t partaken in blood since he was a younger, and most human dishes were too bland. Blood has a concoction- a way about it, that makes it different. There is a certain taste, a strength to it, and people don’t like the kick it gives or makes them feel. And that is with any dish it seems. Regis is hungry, and if he is going to be partaking in only human delights, he’s going to make it enjoyable. Sadly, he hasn’t found that joy yet. However, his witcher friend had mentioned the small bakery, thinking it might be the key to his dilemma.

Dettlaff wasn’t one to eat, but maybe he could bring something back for him once he gets around to checking in again. Of course, that is only if things go smoother than they have in his quest for suitable food.

It was a quant little place, but it seemed like there was a constant flow of people. Luckily, he entered the shop later in the evening, and the last person to exit was the last of the usual customers. The inside was spotless to dirt and every loaf and pastry were nicely organized. It seemed like most items were gone, only a few lingering deserts on display. Reading the tags, it seemed like there are a handful of exotic pastries that were surprisingly to the man. He hadn’t seen some of those titles in years, let alone in the south. There was a sharp smell of heavy vanilla bean, almond and orange wafting from the back that caught his attention. A moment later, lime practically punched the air from him, filling him as well as exciting him. Overused spices in the air is a good sign. He started to even peruse the small jarred spice section when he heard a loud gasp and the tang of blood hit the air.

“Is everything alright?” His voice was stable but the amount of copper on the breeze alerted him to a deeper cut. A younger woman’s head popped out from around the wall, brows furrowed in confusion. When her eyes fell on him, they shot up in shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.” She had a sharp intake of breath as her hand was brought out past the wall. “Um, yeah, I somewhat…nicked myself.” The cut went from the base of her thumb to the heel of her hand and was bleeding profusely.

“Do you need assistance? I’m a doctor.” He swung his satchel towards his front, and started to pull out the sterile swabs he always keeps on hand. She heaves out a small ‘sure’, and nods him towards the back. He makes his way to find four large batches of frosting, each holding a different frosting. There was fudge on an ice sheet shoved in a cooler box, and it seemed like she was pulling honey before the cut.

Her hand was callused and red in his own. They both sat on stools in the back of the kitchen, his grip gentle as he cleared most of the liquid pooling there. He looked to her to check her expression to find that she was staring at him.

“Sorry.” A small smile graced her as she shook her head. “I’m lucky a doctor was here. I would have wrapped it and continued to pull.” A small smile was returned as his hand went scrounging in his bag.

“Sadly, I doubt you will get back to your pulling tonight.” The confusion on her features truly made him feel for her. “You will need a few stitches.”

“What!?” Her hand pulled in his grip, making his thumb press into the cut. Another gasp left her, but they both said sorry. She smiled again, but this one was shaky, likely due to the pain. “I can’t do that. I have to finish the honey pops.” Regis gave her an apologetic look, but she still seemed deflated. After a moment, she sat up straighter. “I’m Y/n, by the way. What can I call you?”

“Regis.” He focused as he started to stich when surprise flooded him.

“Oh, I was waiting for you.” He didn’t look from his work, but his brow raised. “Geralt is a friend. He mentioned you were looking for something strong in flavor.”

“I am, but didn’t expect to be expected.” The index finger of the hand that stabilized hers started to gently brush her knuckles as a certain pull seemed jarring for her.

“He gets me ingredients that I can’t get to. Well, don’t know how to get safely. There’s a Blue Mountain legend that uses Dragon Root. While it’s not great work for a witcher, it’s perfect for a retired one. He’s awfully stubborn though. He doesn’t let me pay much, so I make sure to sneak extra spices and pastries into his goody bag as a thanks.” Regis smiles at her tale.

“Yes, he is a noble one. One of his many fantastic qualities.” He wiped down her hand once more with the small vial of alcohol he has, and she pulls her hand to inspect it. Her eyes widened, and met his darker ones with a sparkle to hers.

“Speaking of fantastic! This is better stitching than my everyday attire.” An amused huff passed through his nose, and a smile graced him. She stood, walking to the cooler box, puling out a bag with his name of it. “I actually already made a small sampler for you.” A dusting of pink spread over her cheeks as she handed it over.

He gladly accepted it, already smelling a profusion of spice. Opening the bag, he noticed a few honey bars, a fudge square and five different vials of frosting. Under that seemed to be the same amount of cake bites.

“Honey with ginger and cinnamon. If you don’t like the combination of both, I can easily make a batch with only one spice. I’ve also tried it with chili flakes or paprika, and it’s delightful. The fudge has chili flakes, but is on the darker side of chocolate, so there’s a punch to the rich, thick body of the chocolate. There’s spiced cakes, extra vanilla and a coffee bean kind. The frostings are almond, almond and vanilla, orange tang, lemon meringue, and lime. I can add or reduce anything you’d like.” The combinations sounded wonderful, and Regis couldn’t wait to try some.

“Well, you have my thanks. I will get to you right away on my thoughts. What do I owe you?” He gently tucked the bag into his own, but looked up when he heard her blow a raspberry.

“For my savior? Nothing. But, if you truly insist, you can stop by tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Business is slow on Saturdays, and I’d love to have company.” Regis let his smile spread, even showing a bit of teeth, but her smile only grew at the sight.

“I shall certainly stop by, Y/n.”

[excorcismic]

     ❛ i’m tryna get out , find a subtle way out . not to cross myself out , not to                          d i s a p p e a r . ❜

                                                                   ❛ LEON !! HELP !! ❜                                                                                   playlist . plotting call . listen as you read !

the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of LUKE PASQUALINO  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of TAKING A BLONDE-HAIRED GIRL HOME ON A JETSKI strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re LEON S. KENNEDY ! ,  a TWENTY-NINE YEAR-OLD NURSE ( FORMER PARAMEDIC ) whose virtue lies in your + HONESTY & + SELFLESSNESS , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite - DEJECTED & - ALOOF ,  and you’re associated with  by those around you.  suddenly,  however,  you’ve found A RACCOON CITY BADGE on your person - was that always there? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in RESIDENT EVIL have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you.  you can almost hear NEW WAYS by DAUGHTER following in your wake. ( he/him &  demimale )

                        this is the story of a very kind man .

I . IN THE DARKNESS , I WILL MEET MY CREATORS . . .

alucard , pennsylvania . leon s. kennedy is born in the back of a 1970 toyota hatchback to a father & mother who don’t love each other but try to make it work since they’re all each other has .

. . . needless to say , it’s very early in his life that ‘making it work’ doesn’t actually work out for them , and his mother moves out and his father moves in with his parents . leon is taken with the latter - seeing his mom on the weekends .

it’s a pretty okay life ; he’s raised more by his grandparents than his actual parents , but he’s always clothed , fed , and raised to be polite . he spends his childhood looking up to superheroes and playing with their toys because he was told it’s good to be a good person , and superheroes are good because they protect other good people . and it’s ingrained into his head from a young age that’s what he wants to do . 

he’s a good kid . always will be a good kid . but there are times when he tries not to be .

wide-eyed and innocent to the world around him , he starts out a goody-goody in high school that grows into more of a rebel and a hellraiser by the time he’s a junior . leon s. kennedy is a good student , but often plays hooky - smokes cigarettes - almost got caught with liquor & weed behind the outdoor bleachers . a few times he’s reported to his grandparents and when they ask him why he tells them he just wants to try everything . he never wants anyone to get hurt , he just wants to have fun .

but . . . it’s two more years of this behavior before leon’s grandparents tell him if his act doesn’t clean up , he’ll be kicked out . and he listens , throwing away a future of hedonism and hell-raising in favor of medical school . because he never liked going to the doctor’s as a kid , but he always felt safe when someone in scrubs would greet him with a smile and tell him what they’d be doing for his appointment .

he goes into medical school to be the hero he always wanted to be . 

 II . AND THEY WILL ALL AGREE THAT I’M A SUFFOCATOR . . .

leon s. kennedy devotes himself to his studies and graduates with double degrees in both nursing & emergency medical services . he starts off in the thick of it ; multiple days of loud noises , scenarios he’d never wish to be in - but lives are saved and he’s praised as a hero for the way he takes initiative . 

but of course , the newfound passion he’s found in caring for others does not stop at his field . no . because there is cordelia , and the moment he first locks eyes with her he has to make sure he’s alright with the way his heart skips a beat .

because she is beautiful . she is beautiful & different than him in the best possible ways and he finds it a miracle somehow she agrees to see him let alone marry him a while later . he considers himself the happiest man in the world since every morning he wakes up & first mistakes the form next to him for an angel - before realizing that is a real woman and she so happens to be his wife . 

of course , life moves on . and leon is devoted to his wife & his job but the latter and the sights seen can wear and tear on the conscious , the spirit . and with sudden news & sudden tragedy a rift is torn between him and the most important person in the world to him ; leon can’t help but feel his own world has stopped moving but the rest of life drags him along and he can’t take it .

home is not happy - home is not what it was before . home was the joy in her eyes & the warmth of her smile & the sound of her laugh but those don’t seem to come around much anymore . and he blames himself , and he only concludes perhaps he is the reason for all of her pain . . . so in an effort to free both her and himself , leon s. kennedy files for divorce & cordelia kennedy signs .

he packs up his bags and moves back up to his grandparents’ home - they’ve long flown to florida for retirement and leave their baby bird their nest . but the world feels empty and his ring finger grows cold now that there’s nothing upon it . 

he is alone . he tells himself it’s for the best . but he’s alone , and because he needs to take care of himself he switches to regular hospital nursing as opposed to emergency medical care .

III . OH LOVE . . . I’M SORRY IF I SMOTHERED YOU .

it has been a few years ; yes , time heals wounds , and leon has gotten used to the fact he’s living by himself - but there’s still a part of him that will be sad about what has ended . what could have been something much longer if maybe things turned out differently or he did something to fix it - even though he knows there was nothing in his power . but he’s fine .

his patients & the people he cares for are the reason he wakes up every day - he’s starting to drink & smoke again to perhaps provide soothing comfort when things get bad but he also knows he needs to focus on his own health as well .

living alone is lonely . but it doesn’t make him cold or callous ; maybe just a bit distant and reluctant to speak too much to new people , but those that gravitate towards him , he takes them in and offers his help . 

he makes an effort to try and make things brighter , to move on . goes out to drink , goes on dates ( bi icon ) - sees people , leaves the house . and it does help , even though most of the time , leon’s a bit more resigned to himself and nowhere near as talkative as he was years ago .

and even though he’s stepped away from the fast-paced environment of a paramedic , those he’s helped in the past and now remind him that he is still a good man and still a hero to those who’ve received his help .

the days can be hard ; but it’s okay . he'll take it one day at a time .

                                   i need new ways . . . to waste my time .

there is a man . a very kind man , but he’s been to hell and back & when leon looks into the mirrors , he sees eyes that have witnessed the apocalypse and then some . because raccoon city is gone & so are the people who lived in it . leon pulls away from the glass with the intense feeling of loss and the badge he finds later on feels heavy in his pockets . but . . . he’s alright . and hopefully , so is the man on the other side , as most heroes don’t end up happy but . . . leon can only feel that’s what he’d seen . 

[hazbinextgeneration]

Down The Rabbithole Ch9

(Disclaimer: The songs sung by the Twiddle Sisters are Wonderland by Natalia Kills, Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez, and Wonderland by Caravan Palace. I DID switch around and replace a few words, especially the Mad Hatter song, to match the storyland theme more, but I in no way own any of the songs or anything about them.)

Birds chirped along and the sky was a lovely blue as the lady in a red dress walked along the dirt road, even though this world had no visible sun that she could see it was still warm as if it was always summer here. And everything was always so bright, beautiful, and vibrant. The sweet smell of flowers was still in the air and lots of forest animals were about. Mostly birds and bunnies, but she saw some deer, a fox, and a turtle too. She wondered if they were regular animals or cursed princes or maybe they could talk like Cheshire or Marsh. They looked and acted like regular forest animals of her old home, and ran away from her as soon as she passed. Making her chuckle as she walked along. At least her feet weren't hurting anymore. Allison had shortly left the strange polka dot cottege after eating the food the kind Hatter and Hare provided her, once again reminding her of the way she needed to go in order to find these Twiddle Sisters. She certainly hoped whoever they were they would be as friendly as her previous guests were. She could only hope. Allison had followed the two crazy fellos' instructions and was already walking down her way towards the second fork in the road. So far she hadn't seen anything except for the lovely woods and creatures around her, that was until the path turned a corner to the left and as instructed she followed it. As Allison turned the corner she paused, and a big smile slowly spread across her face.

"Oh thank god! Finally!"

The second fork in the road! Finally! The second shiny GIANT silver fork stood tall and in the middle of the dirt path as she hurried towards it. Like the one before it, there was paths behind it but this time instead of two paths and two signs, there was three wooden paths and three wodden arrow signs. As soon as she got close enough she stopped and peered up at the signs that were somehow nailed to the giant metal thing. By now she stopped questioning things. I mean she just fell into a fairytale world of talking animals and storybook characters. How logical was that? As she approached, she blinked her eyes up to the three signs that pointed one each to the paths. One left, one right, and one pointing up probably symbolizing the path directly behind the giant fork. The left path apparently went somewhere called The Valley Of FarFar Away. The middle one lead somewhere called Godmother's Retirement Village. And the right which her old companions told her to go, said Enchated Vil. She smiled, before obviously turning and going down the right pathway. Everything looked the same as before as she walked along. Minute after minute passing as she continued to walk along for who know how long. The only difference was that the path began to slowly get bigger and bigger as Allison slowly walked along until it was as big and wide as a regular highway if the highway was made of dirt and smack dab in the middle of a dense and magic forest. The sweet flower scent in the air was nice as the gently breeze flowed throughout the air combined with...The smell of apple pies? She paused a little bit and sniffed the air a little more smelling the scents of foods in the air. And her stomach growled. Mini sandwhiches and cookies and tea didn't really fill one up so much. So naturally she sped up umbrella in hand as she folloed the smell down the road through the woods and-...And oh my goodness. She was now looking at the entrance of a small town the tree blocked off any buildings to the left and right, but from where she was standing she could make out the entrance to what looked like a mini town square of cobblestone and a fountain. Blinking she hurried forward. As she came closer the road slowly turned from dirt to cobblestone and she could hear her footsteps on it, and people walking around!.....WAIT! NO!! NOT JUST PEOPLE!! Walking talking animals and things! THAT THERE WAS A DEAR IN A FANCY DRESS CARRYING A BASKET!! AND THAT THERE WAS AN ELF!!....AND THAT THING WAS A TREE WITH ARMS, LEGS, AND WEARING AN OLD TIMEY SUIT!! She stopped where the forest met the town and her jaw dropped in absolute WONDER.

IT. WAS. A. VILLAGE. RIGHT. OUT. OF. A. FAIRYTALE!! Cobblestone everywhere, things out of stories walking around, and the buildings even looked like those old wooden cabins in storybooks, or cotteges with straw roofs. Either way it was fantastic. Umbrella still in hand and red eyes blinking around in wonder, she slowly stepped her way in looking at the brightly colored houses of different colors and designs and all the different people walking around. ...It really was real and so different and EXCITING AND AMAZING!! No one was the same from her first glance and she almost tripped from bumping into a giant walking spoon man holding hands with a giant plate wearing a dress and hat.

"S-Sorry," She called back before looking around again.

Her stomach growled smelling the good food again and she looked over and noticed there was a bakery opened not to far from her. Above the bakery's door it read "Muffin's and Gingerbread's Breads and Goodies." She guessed that must've been the Muffin Man's and Gingerbread man's family business. ...Too bad she didn't have any money or what was used for money down here. All this walking really worked up an appitite....What was she looking for again? OH YEAH!! Granny Cottege. She looked around and began to walk around aimlessly glancing at the many, many buildings around the place and peeking into alleyways. 'Mother Goose Library'. 'Town Hall.' 'GodMother's School House'....An actual one room school building with a bed like in ye olden days. 'Ye Olde Brave Tailor.' 'Merry Lane Doctor.' ...LOTS of fairytale puns. But no 'Granny's Cottage.' She must've been looking for what must've been an hour by now and still no signs of it. 'Can't miss it' huh? Against her better judgement she decided to stop someone and ask for directions. It looked like a wizard. The old man in a long robe and witch like hat stopped patiently and didn't seem too bothered by her question. In return to her question, he pointed down at an alleyway between two buildings and said it was just down that alleyway. She thanked him and hurried away towards where he had pointed. Darting between the mysterious people until she got there. The alleyway was dark but there was a light at the back of the tunnel, her desperation to find a way home somewhere overpowered any sketchy feeling she might've had and compelled her to walk down it. Allison was in complete shade for a few moments, but it disappeared as soon as she reached the end. The alleyway was nothing but a dead end with garbage cans and some litter laying about. But before her was a large black door and a sign above it read Granny's Cottage. FINALLY she found it! A smile came over her face as she approached the door and didn't hesitate to open it. Inside was NOT what she was expecting.

The loud sound of laughter filled the air and she catiously poked her head in and blinked at what was before her. LOTS of buff looking pirates and thieves she thought, witches and wizards wearing dark clothes, and other ruffians. ....Wow. She guessed there must've been ...'bad' people like classic story book villains and thieves but she didn't expect to stumble across a whole bunch of them. She took a few steps in and stopped wondering if maybe she shook turn around- She yelped and took a few steps aside as two buff looking men charged towards the open door with another third man in their grip she watched as they tossed him out laughing before one slammed the door shut and laughed even more and they turned and stomped back to a table of pirate looking men who held up mugs of she guessed beer towards them....She wondered if this is what Chesire meant by dangers of his world? She didn't have much chance to find out though as she sucked in a deep breath and began to walk towards the bar? This place looked like a tavern, an old version of a bar, only this one had a stage and giant old worn curtain near the far back. No one paid her any mind as she stepped around and under arms holding out mugs, dodging a few spills from the foul smelling beer. A man with an eye patch was wiping out a wooden mug at the counter and had that classic apron and small mustache like old bartenders had and looked up at her as she approached- Before yelping and ducking her head from a flying mug that landed on the floor behind the bar. The bartender didn't even flinch as it spilt at his feet and only gave Allison a bored look.

"Watcha want here girly? You seem kinda outta place in a crowd of rowdy ruffians like us." He sneered at her as she slowly looked around to make sure nothing would come back flying at her. Before blinking back up to the man.

"N-No! I d-don't want anything to drink. I-I'm just here looking for something."

"Uh huh. And just might who that be little lady? We don't usually see you're kind around here."

She looked at him and with a quiver in her voice said, "I-I'm looking f-f-for The Twiddle Sisters? I-I was told they perform here."

He huffed before going back to his cup. "Well, you're lucky then. They're about to perform now."

She didn't have time to even ask before the loud cheers of drunken laughter turned to cheers and whistles of joy and the bar tender looked past her, she looked over where he was looking and noticed everyone looking towards the stage near the very back of the whole place and she blinked.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" A lady's voice sung out from somewhere as the cheers and whistles grew. "It is with great pleasure that I present to you the Twiddle Sisters!"

The old raggedy curtain rose much to the cheers and she blinked again. WHAT THE WHAT?! What was revealed was not one but TWO women sharing one body....L-LIKE CONJOINED TWINS!! The strange ladies were dressed in a dark pink burlesque outfit and a long feather boa.Like one of those old 1920's flapper girls. One lady had dark pink hair which she had in a ponytail. Her sister she guessed had MUCH longer very pale pink hair, almost light also in a ponytail. As they were presented they really hammed up themselves by fluttering their eyes, one head waved white the other blew a kiss towards the cheering crowd. Behind them was three witches. Backup singers?? Everyone quieted down as music suddenly began playing from somewhere and she-..Uh..They got into a pose as she watched.

"I'm not Snow white but I'm lost inside this forest.~ I'm not red Riding Hood but I think the wolves have got me.~" The twin with the short dark pink ponytail sang as she walked along the stage and put one hand to her forehead while the one on her sister's side remained on their hip. " Don't want your glass slippers.~ I'm not, not Cinderella.~ I don't need a knight, so baby take off all your armor.~" She stepped along the stage again and men cheered and whistled as they walked past. "Your be the beast-" They leaned down to poke a guy's nose as they past and his comrade pulled him back from the stage. "-and I'll be the beauty, beauty.~ Who needs true love, as long as you love me truly, truly.~ I want it all but I want you more.~ Will you wake me up boy if I bite your poison apple?~"

"I don't believe in fairytales~," both girls sung out this time as they stopped center stage. The three back up witch singers sang 'Oh, no, no, no.' as they said that. "I don't believe in fairytales.~ I don't believe in fairytales.~ But I believe in you and me.~ Take me to Wonderland!!" All five girls sung as one for the next few verses now as the sisters danced and swung their hips expertly in place. "Take me to, Take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Wonderland, Wonderland.~"

"When I lay down to go to sleep at night.~," the dark pinked haired twin sang again as her twin and the back ground dancers stayed silent now, but the backup singers bouncing to the beat. "My dreams consist of things that'd make you wanna hide.~ Don't let me in your tower.~ Show me your magic powers.~ I'm not afraid to face a little bit of danger, danger.~ " At the last 'danger' they reached one of their legs out to kicked back a burly one eyed man back from the stage with the sweetest smiles. "I want the love, the money, and the perfect ending.~ You want the same as I, I.~ So stop pretending.~ I wanna show you how good we could be together.~ I wanna love you through the night.~ We'll be a sweet disaster.~"

"I don't believe in fairytales.~" Again both heads sung as another 'Oh, no, no, no.' came from the witches. "I don't believe in fairytales.~ I don't believe in fairytales.~ But I believe in you and me.~" Again as they repeated the next verses they all sung as one and Allison had to admit that they all had good voices, especially the one sister who was singing. "Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, Take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~" That same expert swing dance in one place. Allison briefly wondered how long it took two sisters to agree and practice it? "Take me to, Take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Wonderland, Wonderland.~"

"Wonderlaaaaaand!!~ Oh!! Woah oh, oh!!" The dark pink haired twin sang loud and echoed throughtout the place. "Woah oh, oh!!~ Woah oh, oh!~ I believe in you and me!~ "

"I don't believe in fairytales!!~" Both heads sung together again only a little louder. "I don't believe in fairytales.~ I don't believe in fairytales.~ "

"But I believe in you and me!!~," The original sung out by herself.

"Take me to Wonderland.~," All five ladies on stage sung as one again, "Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~" "I BELEIVE IN YOU IN ME!!~" The original singer sung out as the other four ladies continued to finish up the song. "Wonderland!!~ Take me to, take me to!~ Take me to Wonderland!!~ Take me to, take me to!~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to, take me to.~ Take me to Wonderland.~ Take me to WOnderland!!~ TAKE ME TO WONDERLAND!!~"

The cheers and roars of the rowdy crowed was inevitable as all five ladies on stage took a bow, but that wasn't the end of the performance as Allison discovered when a different song began to play again from somewhere. The twins stood back up and took a stance as if to start another part of their performance. Allison blinked and found herself walking towards the front of the stage as the crowd began to die down from the first performance. This time a much deeper beat and music box sounding piano played from somewhere she couldn't see. Not that she was paying attention to anyone else but the two on stage.

"My friends don't walk they run.~ Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun.~," this time the other sister with the longer very light pink haired ponytail sang out by herself as they slowly sashayed across the stage. "Poppin, poppin ballons with pins.~ Getting wild with barbarians.~ We paint white roses red.~ Each shade a different version of red.~ This dream, dream is a thriller.~ Getting wild with a small caterpillar.~" The paler haired twin suddenly reached up to run her gloved hand down her face. "Now I'm feeling the rush to my face.~ Cause I hate being so plaaa-a-ain.~ What's normal?~ They make me addled.~ The wilds.~ They make me feel safe.~" She suddenly sang in a louder tone when the next few versus came. "I'm nuts, baby.~ I'm mad.~ The craziest friend you've ever had.~ You think I'm Psycho, you think I'm gone.~ Tell our friends to follow along.~ Over the bend.~ Entirely bonkers.~ You like me best when I'm leading along.~ Tell you a secret.~" She made a motion as if to beckon the audience closer. " Im not alarmed.~ So what if I'm mad?~ The best people are.~ All the best people are mad, yeah.~ All the best people are.~''

Her voice like her sister's was very pretty, and sounded very different from her sisters. The light haired pink twin's voice was higher pitched but not enough to sound annoying. It sounded quite lovely and smooth.

"Where is my shrink potion?~" Allison was pulled back out of her thoughts as she began singing again. She now noticed the witch back up singers were gone and the dark haired twin who sung before was being very quiet smiling as her sister sang. "Witches, witches please listen.~ My forgetfulness is rattled.~ You can Alice, I'll be the Mad Hatter.~" She pointed out at the audience when she said Alice before pointing back to herself. "Now I'm feeling the rush to my face.~ Cause I hate feeling so Plaaa-a-ain.~ What's normal?~ They make me addled.~ The wilds.~ The make me feel safe.~" She once again spoke in a louder tone as she repeated the last verses from before. "I'm nuts.~ Baby, I'm mad.~ The craziest friend you've ever had.~ You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone.~ Tell our friends to follow along.~ Over the bend.~ Entirely bonkers.~ You like me best when I'm leading along.~ Tell you a secret.~" Again the motion to beckon the audience but they stepped back when another man with a giant mustache was yanked back by his pal. "I'm not alarmed.~ So what if I'm mad?~ The best people are.~ You think I'm really?~" They slowly started to step around stage as they sang. "You think I'm mad.~ So what if I'm really?~ All the best people are.~ And I think your funny too.~ I know you're mad.~ That's probably the reason that we get along.~" They turned around and started walking back towards the center of the stage. "I'm nuts, baby.~ I'm mad.~ The craziest friend you've ever had.~ You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone.~ Tell our friends to follow along.~ Over the bend.~ Entirely bonkers.~ You like me best when I'm leading along.~ Tell you a secret.~" They stopped back at middle stage and the twin currently singing held her hand up. "I'm not alarmed.~ So what if I'm really?~ The best people are.~" They stayed in one place and bounced to the beat as she sang. "All the best people are really.~ All the best people are.~ All the best people are mad, yeah.~ All the best people are.~"

The music cut out just as they finished singing and another loud roar of laughter louder than before came from the crowd as the girls bowed and blew kisses at their adoring fans and Allison reached up her own hands to cover her ears from the loud clapping and cheers. YOWCH!! THAT HURT!! Gripping the umbrella in one hand and stepping back, not noticing she stepped on one touch looking wizard's long robe. The music started up for a third time and Allison watched as they put their hands on their hips and just simply bounced along to the music this time, as the pale pink haired twin spoke.

"Just imagine a trip to a wonderous land.~ Of candy, and Jam.~ And ice cream.~"

"I gotta hit the road, you better watch it.~ With a little bag full of big tricks.~", The pink haired twin took over singing as her sister once again fell silent to her lead. "I got the voice, got the pitch, got to keep it undercover.~ All in the air, just to sing it out.~ See the stone cold face, try to knock it.~ I can't be stopped.~ Never walked.~ Gotta run it.~ I gotta be wit it, I gotta be with it.~ I gotta beda-"

A loud yell made everyone stop and look down into middle stage, Allison tripped and fell back on her bum just as the bartender was walking by with drinks. The wizard's cloak that Allison had accidentally been standing on had snagged on the wizard's neck when he tried to stand and choked him, he turned around furious not looking at Allison on the ground. Only seeing the baretender standing in her place. Angered he pushed the bartender without another word sending him flying back and spilling the beer all over the men behind him. The pirates yelled in anger as beer was poured all over them and in retaliation one threw his mug at the wizard who quickly ducked. The cup flew across the bar and hit another VERY large man sitting at a table of seven other beefy men and they immediately stood after their leader was hit in the head by a mug and covered in beer. Which lead to more beer and cups anf chairs being thrown, to people becoming more angry, to starting to throw punches, and TURNING INTO AN ALL OUT BAR FIGHT!! The women on stage covered their heads with their arms, before darting to the left of the stage as the curtains closed.

"HEY!! Wait!" Allison quickly scrambled to her feet and quickly made a beeline for the stage as the curtains closed. Lifting up her dress a little allowing her to jump over fallen men or chairs easier or move when ducking under something flying over her head. THIS IS WHY SHE HATED DRESSES!! Her heart beats picked up as she moved and once she got to the stage, she jumped onto the thing and pulled herself up onto it. Crawling umbrella in one hand fast to the curtain as it just touched the bottom of the stage. She took one last look behind her, winced at a glass breaking sound, and quickly pushed up the bottom of the old curtain to crawl underneath it. But she didn't stop there, quickly standing she looked left to where the twins ran and saw a brown door. She bolted towards it, ignoring the curtain moving or the noises of the stage as something hit them. The door burst opened and slammed when Allison pressed her back to it breathing heavily....before sighing and closing those red eyes, leaning her head onto the door. "Well, that went well." She looked back around and noticed she was in what looked like a hallway, blinking she pushed away from the door. The faint sounds of the bar fight still going on but fading as she walked along. It was barely lit and hard to see. But there was a few doors to the right, she looked at them pondering which ones the twins took.

"Well tonight was a disaster." She stopped and blinked at the sudden voice as it came threw the walls. "At least we won't get blamed for it. It's not our fault the guy made another person mad." "Ha! Yeah right. Did you see him tonight?" What sounded like two women laughing together was enough to encourage Allison to walk faster and followed the muffled sounds of talking and laughing until she found the source coming from the back of one of the very last few doors. She stopped in front of it. Should she knock? Taking in a deep breath, Allison shakily reached a hand over. And knocked on the door. The sounds of happy chatter on the other side disappeared immediately and Allison froze. .....A long silence passed until a voice spoke. "Who is it?"

She opened her throat to speak but her answer came out a nervous stutter, "I-I-I...I-I c-came to talk to you two...I n-n-need to ask you something."

Another long pause-.....

"You may enter." Allison's hand shakily grasped the doorknob as she took a big inhale. Pausing for a moment before letting it out and slowly....SLOWLY pushing the door open and letting it open by itself fully revealing the three women to each other. The room was filled with classic 'star' items such as a well furnished bed, a giant wardrobe, and a fancy vanity which the two were sitting in front of right now. The three of the held a small staring contest, before the sisters looked at each other then back at Allison. "Who are you?," The light pink haired one asked.

"A-A-Allison. ..*ahem* My name's Allison. I need your help...please."

...They blinked and looked suspicious. "And how can exactly can WE help YOU?"

"I-I need to know where to find the Fortune Teller." Both blinked in surprise as she frowned and looked at them. "PLEASE!! He's my only chance of getting home and...A-And I heard you two would know where to find him."

They must've heard the desperation in their voice because the dark haired one reached her hand out to come in. "Close the door." Allison quickly did so and the two relaxed back. Well the dark pink haired one was looking at her with a studying gaze as her sister still looked confused. "....Come in and sit down. I'm Deedee." The twin with the short ponytail pointed to herself as Allison slowly shuffled over to the bed to sit down. And then she gestured to her sister, the one with longer hair. "And this is my sister, Dumea. ...Why do you want to know where the Fortune Teller is?"

Allison swallowed under their hard gazes. "I-I...I'm really lost. I-I need a por-....Rabbit-thole to get back to there." Both looked surprised again before looking at each other. "PLEASE!! Please. I have a friend who might be hurt waiting for me and I was told you two might know where to find him!"

....."So the rumors were true." They looked back to her. "A human really did fall down here." They leaned forward and gave her a concerned look. "It's not safe for you here." "If the Queen or her guards find you," Dumea cut in tone worried, "You'll be forced to perform in one of her fights. And she never loses. Her magic's too powerful." Allison's eyes shrank and her eyes dropped.

"....W-W-What?"

"The Hearts are jealous and fearful tyrant family that's ruled for generations. They're a very old family with strong magic that gets stronger with each generation," They continued, "The worst was Queen Velvet Hearts' parents. They wiped out nearly all the Chesires and destroyed most of the rabbitholes almost fourteen years ago."

Allison's mind wretched back to Chesire...remember how he proclaimed himself last of the Chesires-....And leaned back with a disgusted look on her face. "...That's why he was against me coming here...That's aweful!" She looked back to them. "Why would they do that?!"

Deedee shook her head. "The family was always crazy. They blamed outsiders of treason for the history the Brothers Grim shared with your world. Since then all outsiders are viewed as enemies and if any of them were to come into the Hearts kingdom they would spend the rest of their lives in the dungeon...or worse." "Queen Velvet is MUCH better than her parents or other ancestors were, but she'll still see you as a threat and lock you away. But not before making you fight to earn your freedom back before she locks you up like she does with anyone else who upsets her."...."Like us."

Allison blinked and an even more annoyed look appeared on her face. "Make you fight her? What did you guys do to hurt her and What kind of punishment is that?!"

"A much fairer one than her anscestors would've given us." "The Queen...still has traits of jealousy and vanity in her heart as all Hearts do. We used to perform for the royal court, but the Queen proclaimed we were trying to ruin her performances. So she challenged us and...." "W-We lost and she banned us from ever stepping foot in the castle again. Now we have to sing and live her to get by." "It's not a bad punishment. I'd rather get banned than thrown in the dungeon-" "But that's why you must leave." Deedee gave her a frightened look. "She's too powerful for you to take on and already there's rumor's of the queen sending guards to capture you. If you look you'll be trapped here forever."

Allison face became wide in fear and she looked at them in desperation. "T-That's why I gotta find him! He's the only one who could know how to get me back! PLEASE!! PLEASE TELL ME ANYTHING!!"

...The two sighed. "It's true we heard rumors about where he lives, but we've never seen him. Only heard of where he might live and even we aren't sure."

"PLEASE!! I'll take anything! If it means I can go home!"

....."We do not wish you to end up in our situation." "So we will tell you what we know."

Allison thanked whatever deities were listening to her prayers and gave a shuddering exhale hanging her head and looking at them. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you so much!"

"No need to thank us. You might not even find the results you want." "We heard from whispers from the courtroom's nobles that he may live in the Giant mushroom Field east of the castle, but that's all we heard and it's not gaurenteed because no one's ever seen him and told the location of his hide away."

"H-How do I get there?"

"The mushrooms. Follow the glowing pink mushrooms, they always lead right to it.".....Another pause before one Twiddle sister pointed in the direction behind them. "There's a trail that just starts on the south edge of town. The farmers use them to go collect mushrooms on the edge of the misty field before coming home to not get lost." "You should leave now. While you still have time." They stood up as they ushered her off the bed. "We'll sneak you out the back way, but you MUST leave right away. Rumors travel faster than you think and if you can't find the Fortune Teller then you'll need the head start to escape the Queen."

Allison's heart picked up pace slightly as the sisters quickly ushered her towards the door and what would eventually be her back exit. ...Getting back home just got a whole lot harder.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Eighteen | Cheating ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Fubuki ] [ Verse: Into the Abyss ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

Retirement, as he likes to call it, has been far too kind to him.

Sure, working for Konoha for a pittance of pay isn’t easy. In the literal sense, sure. He’s accomplished far more with far less. He’s Uchiha Obito, near-conqueror of the world. But it’s still tenuous, time-consuming, boring, and a blow to his pride. To go from a major warlord pulling the strings of multiple nations to a village errand boy is a difficult pill to swallow.

But he does it for two reasons. One is a genuine guilt for his actions, and a wish to make up as much as he can before he perishes. A want to better a world he had so much hand in harming.

And the second, well…

“Obito!”

He’s currently baking in the Autumn sun on an oddly warm day. With a want to remain as covered as he can to keep his zetsu half hidden, he hasn’t consented to even rolling up his sleeves despite the heat, and his labor. The leaves are falling in Konoha, and...well, he’s been tasked with helping to clean them up.

In the village’s largest park.

Which has more trees than he can count of no small size.

He’s already gone through the canteen of water he took with him, skin shining with sweat. Ugh, he’s so horribly out of shape...the months in prison and then house arrest with Kakashi have not been kind to him. Let alone all his time recovering from the bijū being ripped from him. Regaining his lost mass and strength is taking time he didn’t know he’d need.

All in all...he’s miserable.

But that one word - that name, those three syllables - pronounced by that tongue immediately lifts his spirits.

Brightening, he turns, rake still in hand, to see Ryū crossing to him. Unlike him, she has a day off today, free of the hospital until her next shift tomorrow. But instead, it seems she’s decided to check on him.

“Kakashi told me where to find you,” she offers as she approaches, a bag slung over her shoulder. “You poor thing, you must be so warm…!”

Obito finds himself a bit bashful at her fussing. “I’m all right.”

The look she gives him makes it clear: she knows he’s fibbing. “Well...either way, I brought you something. Come sit down.”

“But -?”

“If the ANBU watching you have a problem, they can take it up with me,” she sniffs. “You clearly need a break or you’re going to pass out. There’s a bench right here. Sit.” Grinning, she adds, “Doctor's orders, ne?”

That earns a breathy chuckle. “All right, all right…” He takes the tool with him, leaning it nearby and sitting with a sigh. From here, he can see all the piles he’s raked, yet to be moved to the community compost heap for the farms outside the village walls.

...he’s raked a lot of leaves today.

“Okay first...here…” She pulls a new canteen out, and Obito unabashedly snatches it, unscrewing the cap and chugging. “Slow down, you’ll give yourself a bellyache!”

His Adam’s apple bobs a few more times before surfacing for a breath. “Sorry...I really needed that.”

Her eyes give a gentle roll. “Well...that’s why I brought two. Make the other one last, okay?”

“I will.”

Next, she pulls out a bento box, and Obito flushes red as his stomach gurgles.

Giggling behind a palm, she hands it over. “Here. I knew you’d be hungry.”

“You’re a literal angel.”

It’s her turn to go pink. “Well...I wanted to make sure you were prepared for today. It’s so darn hot, and this isn’t exactly a quick task…”

“Kakashi says I just need to go until sundown. If there’s stuff left, others are going to be hired for it. I just need to get the bulk of it done.”

As usual, the notion makes her scowl. But given they’ve had this conversation before, she withholds her reaction. “...well, I’ll have dinner ready by then, too. Just be sure to keep hydrated, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That earns him a look: mildly chastising, a bit weary, but mostly affectionate.

He loves that look.

He loves everything about her.

“Just take care of yourself, ne? I worry about you enough.”

“I know, I know...I’ll be careful.” But she’s not always around to keep the ANBU at bay and let him take a breather. Being stared at by a bunch of top-tier shinobi without access to his chakra or Sharingan makes him...uncomfortable. So he doesn’t try anything.

She gives him a once-over, looking for anything else to say before her eyes catch sight of his hands. They’re raw and blistered. “Obito!”

“What?”

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?!”

“I...don’t have -?”

Scowling again, she takes his hands (firmly, but gently) and starts healing them despite his protests. “I’m going to get you some gloves. Don’t rake another leaf until I get back.”

“Ryū -”

“And if any ANBU tell you otherwise, you tell them to talk to me.”

“Ryū, you -”

“Kakashi is going to get an earful for sending you out here without proper equipment.”

“Ryū!” He wants to grab her shoulders to stifle her, but...she’s got a very proper hold of his hands. “It’s fine. It’s my responsibility.”

“It’s not fine! It’s bad enough you’re doing these tasks, let alone that they’re hurting you.”

He sighs. “You’re babying me.”

“I am not.”

“...yes you are. I’m a grown man. Some hard work and blisters aren’t going to kill me.”

As the last of the marks fade, she doesn’t release his hands. A silence blooms, and he nearly breaks it. But then she speaks.

“...I don’t like seeing you hurt,” is her quiet reply. “...not after seeing what they did to you in prison. It drags up all those memories, and I just…”

With a sigh, Obito softens. “...I can say the same. It always makes me think of what Root did to you. But really, Ryū...I’m fine.”

Her lowered gaze lifts to his face. There’s still a trace of the soft, uncensored look she had when they first met. But it’s edged with the hardness she’s gained since then. “...I’m still getting you the gloves. You can get back to work in the meantime, but...I’ll be right back.”

“All right.”

He eats his bento, Ryū accepting the empty dish once he’s finished, and the drained canteens. But before she leaves, she lifts up to her toes and gives his forehead a gentle press of her lips.

“I’ll be right back.”

Not needing to reply, Obito watches her go. She’s fussy, and overprotective, and maybe a little immature at times.

But gods, he could never love anyone else the way he loves her.

Aware of the eyes on him, he gets back to raking, a scant few minutes passing before Ryū returns with a fine pair of soft leather gloves. They look expensive...but when he voices as much, she brushes the concern aside.

“They’re well-made, so they’ll last. You’re surely going to need them again after today. Consider it an investment, ne?”

He just nods, already thinking of ways to repay her.

“...now, I’ll leave you to it. See you when you get home.”

As it has since he deemed it safe to move in with her, his heart does a little flutter at the phrase. Home. It’s so odd. He hasn’t had a true, proper home in nearly two decades. But now he has not only that, but someone to come home to.

After losing Rin, he never would have imagined that.

“See you.” Watching her go, he feels a surge of motivation. Get this done...go home...have dinner with his beautiful partner...and get to sleep by her side.

It’s what keeps him going.

The day wanes slowly, sun slowly sinking toward the horizon as he powers through. Pile after pile after pile of leaves build up, and for the last hour, he starts hauling them, wheelbarrowful by wheelbarrowful, to the dumping grounds.

“Gee, sure would be a lot faster if I could make a few clones and had a few more wheelbarrows,” he muses aloud as he dumps another load of leaves, just to annoy the ANBU. “Think of how much more efficient I could be! I could have raked the whole park by now!”

He knows they’re glowering at him, but messing with them in any small ways he can is part of the fun. Obito is well aware he can’t use chakra, as are they.

But oh, the things he could do if he could…

While he and Kakashi both know he’s not about to go ballistic in the middle of Konoha now, there’s little convincing anyone else. So, he’s forced to deal with it. The Rokudaime had hinted there was a possibility of, after a great deal of good behavior, being given slow access to more and more of his ability. But it would be a long time before then, if ever.

So, Obito goes on about his duties as patiently as he can, awaiting a day he might regain just a sliver of his freedom.

Turning in his tools once the day is done, the park manager signs off on his paperwork and bids him goodbye. Turning in said paperwork to Kakashi, Obito receives the details for tomorrow’s assignment: repainting an old farmer’s barn outside the village walls. Wonderful. He’ll be outside Konoha, so even more ANBU than usual.

But...that’s for tomorrow’s Obito to deal with. Today’s Obito has a warm meal and an evening to look forward to first.

Ryū, as it so happens, is a wonderful cook. And an excellent baker. Ever since his release from prison, she’s been combining that knowledge with medical dietary expertise to help him regain his lost weight and muscle mass from then, and the last battle of the war. Supercharged meals with just the right nutrients to nurse him back from his weakened state.

...but there have been...temptations.

Obito, you see, has a devilishly strong sweet tooth. And as it so happens, Ryū does as well. Every so often she’ll make sweet little goodies, and despite his strict diet, she’ll allow him a bit to tide him over until he’s back to full health.

But the urge to cheat that diet is strong. It’s nutritious and delicious, but...well, a man can’t deny his fickle urges.

Arriving at the proper house, already filled with good memories and bad, Obito steps in with a quick, “Tadaima”, removing his shoes with a sigh.

“Okaeri! Still in the kitchen - almost done!”

“Sure smells good,” he offers in reply, stepping up into the house and inhaling deeply. Hearty, savory smells fill the air...as well as something sweet.

Oh no.

Carrying a dish, Ryū enters the dining room and sets it down. “Want to help me?”

“Of course.” He too ferries things from room to room until they’re ready to sit and eat. Seafood, vegetables, rice, and even some other meats are piled high onto his plate.

“So, how were your gloves?” Ryū asks, taking a bite.

“Good. A little stiff at first, but they broke right in. You’re right, they seem sturdy.”

“They’ll last a long time so long as you take care of them!”

He nods, trying to eat without just shoveling it into his mouth. He can’t help it with her cooking, let alone that he’s so damn hungry!

Ryū, able to tell as much, just watches him with a hint of amusement, fighting (and losing) against a smile. “So...did the rest of the day go okay?”

“Yeah. Hauled everything to compost. Made a good dent. Manager seemed happy with it.”

“Good! And tomorrow?”

“Painting an old barn for some older guy outside the wall. Won’t be difficult.”

“It’s not supposed to be nearly as hot tomorrow, so that will help.” Ryū heaves a small sigh. “Konoha’s just so darn warm…”

“It is...but you think you’d be used to it by now.”

At that, she snorts. “I was born and bred in the mountains! I’m not meant for a hot climate, ne?”

The rest of the meal passes before they tidy up, working together to do up the dishes and get everything put away...and then Ryū reveals what’s been tickling his nose with that sweet smell.

A batch of chocolate cookies.

“I figured you deserved a treat after today, ne? One for now, and I’ll put one in your bento for tomorrow.”

Obito stares at them rather intensely. Just one…? But he worked so hard today! Well...one is better than none. He looks them over before picking what he determines to be the largest one, even if they’re likely all the same size. And to make it last, he takes tiny nibbles while Ryū takes one for herself.

From there, it’s time to wind down for the evening. Obito bathes, Ryū also taking a turn before they snuggle up on the couch. By now, Obito’s day is starting to catch up with him, an ache forming in his shoulders and low back.

Ryū, ever vigilant, notices his wincing posture and starts easing at the muscles with her hands.

Immediately, Obito gives a satisfied groan, head bowing at her attentions.

“Poor thing,” she sympathizes. “We’ll get you feeling better, then we better go to bed. You’ve had a long day.”

“Mhm…” He’s only half listening, too focused on the feeling of her hands on his back.

A few last tasks before bed - brushing teeth, braiding hair - before they head up to the bedroom and change for the night. As soon as Ryū joins him beneath the covers, Obito snuggles right back up to her. After his stint in Konoha’s prison, intimacy is...difficult. But he’s still more than happy to touch as much of her with him that he can.

And Ryū is just as content with it as he is. “Mm...goodnight, koi. Get some rest.”

“Will do,” is his muffled reply, already starting to doze. Bed is so comfy, Ryū is so comfy...he’s full of good food, and tomorrow’s job shouldn’t be too difficult, so long as the old man isn’t ornery.

But after Ryū falls asleep, breath slow and steady, Obito is still awake.

He has a craving.

Glancing to her to ensure she really is out for the night, he then carefully disentangles himself, slipping out from under the blankets and tiptoeing toward the door. Down the stairs, around the corner, and into the kitchen where a porcelain jar sits.

Within...are the cookies.

Just one more won’t hurt. Just one! Sure, he’s still recovering, but...surely this isn’t going to hurt anyone, least of all him! It’s a reward for all his hard work today. Lifting the lid, he takes in the blooming scent of chocolate. Immediately, his mouth waters. Okay...eat a cookie, brush his teeth (again), and then slip back into bed without Ryū noticing.

It’s genius.

Plucking a treat from the pile inside the jar, he gives it an appreciative sniff. Then a bite crunches into the cookie, a hum of satisfaction quiet in the silence of the kitchen.

...and then he hears something.

Freezing, Obito listens to a very subtle click-clack, click-clack. What is that…? Turning, he looks through the door of the kitchen, but...doesn’t see anything. What is -?

“Did Ryū-sama give you permission for seconds?”

Half-choking on the cookie still in his mouth as he gasps, Obito tries to stifle a cough. Only once he can breathe does he spin back around to spy...Fubuki. Ryū’s haughty owl summon. “Gods, you scared the crap out of me!”

The sooty-spotted white owl just blinks at him, clearly not amused. “Did she not warn you about overindulging in sweets?”

He pouts back at her. “It’s just one cookie -”

“And she puts hours of effort into your meals to ensure you are meeting your dietary requirements...let alone the cost of all this fresh food for your sake.”

...is she guilt tripping him right now?

Feathers ruffle. “Do not usurp her efforts again.”

Obito just squints at her, watching her go, talons click-clacking along the floor. Why does this bird hate him so much?!

But...now he does feel guilty. He could put it back, but...he already took a bite. Ryū will know! He could hide it somewhere, but then what?

Frustrated, he puts it in a little container for her to use for his bento. She’ll know, but...at least he’ll be honest about it. Swishing out his mouth, he returns to bed, somehow not waking her.

Come morning, it’s Ryū who rises first. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she moves downstairs to get ready for work, and to prepare what Obito will need. There’s a pause as she spots the munched cookie.

“You were right. He came in.”

Turning, Ryū lets her summon alight upon her shoulder with a snort. “Did he, now?”

“But it seems my lecture was effective. He quickly gave up.”

“Well...thank you for your diligence, Fubuki. Ready to go out?” As the owl nods, Ryū takes her to the front door, letting her alight into the first sun of morning. Then onto her own business she goes, including putting together Obito’s bento. She puts in the cookie...and then after a moment of thought, puts in another.

He’s right. One cookie won’t hurt anyone.

     A healthy does of fluff! I’m...not keen on romantic cheating as a subject for personal reasons, so...Meg suggested this instead. And I loved it xD Poor Obito...just let the man have his darn cookie! He’s earned it!      Anyway, it’s...very late and I’m very tired so that’ll do it for tonight! Thanks for reading~

[scrivenerofmossflower]

Martin of Mossflower  Chapter 12

Word Count: ~2.4  read on ao3 Chapter Summary: Ferdy and Coggs are missing, and Mask infiltrates Kotir. 

First Chapter : : Previous Chapter  : : Next Chapter 

Unfortunately for the would-be questers, several of the elders sat near the fire, sipping warm cider and discussing theories and strategies, old times and new. Martin listened closely to the proposed methods of getting Mask into Kotir without arousing suspicion, but idea after idea was rejected as either too tenuous or dangerous. Finally, it was decided that Mask would slip into the ranks of a returning Kotir contingent, and if Tsarmina didn’t send one out within the next few days, that Skipper, Amber, and Vurg would provoke her with a sally upon the main gates.

Still, the later it grew, the fewer excuses Martin and Gonff could offer to linger in the grand hall, and they retired to the dormitories, thwarted. Sometime tomorrow, the hall would surely be deserted, and they could tackle the crest then.

Breakfast came first, and with it a fretful Goody Stickle. Usually adept in combating her children’s messier impulses, Spike and Posy managed to mix cream, cider, and hotroot into their porridge before Spike upset his and she caught them at it.

Gonff and Martin grabbed two towels and helped her mop it up. “Thank ye, dears,” she said, tutting at Spike and Posy. “You two scamps, though, what were ye thinkin’, hotroot in porridge?”

“Mr. Skipper does it!” Posy protested.

“Mr. Mask, too!”

“Aye, and they’re both otters,” Gonff said, and flicked the towel so that it snapped at them. They giggled. “And otters eat so hot because they get so cold, spendin’ all their time in the water. You two ain’t otters, and you’ll just set your mouths on fire for nothin’.”

Goody nodded sagely, glancing around her as she did so. “Listen to your brother, you two.”

“I haven’t seen Ferdy and Coggs this morning,” Martin said, finally putting a guess to the source of her distraction.

“Nay, neither ‘ave I,” Goody admitted, and huffed a sigh, looking from one to the other. “They ain’t slept in their beds last night.” Her paws worried at her apron. Posy and Spike took bites of the remains of the doctored porridge and both went for the water jug, eyes streaming. “Asides from that, there’s two oatfarls, a good wedge o’ cheese and some of my best blackcurrant cordial missin’ from the larder.”

Gonff grinned. “That’s a full breakfast an’ no mistake. I’m sure they’re curled up asleep in some corner, Goody-Mum. They’ll wake up with stomach aches.”

“They’ll go bang one of these days,” Martin said with a laugh. “Maybe they’re off playing soldiers. We’ll help you look. Have you let Bella and my mum know? They can help organize a search party, if it gets to that.”

“Don’t go a-botherin’ your old ‘ead, m’dear,” Ben said, pouring two good sized bowls of milk for Spike and Posy, who were still trying to recover from their first taste of hotroot. “Those two are like good button mushrooms, they always turn up at a good meal,” he finished, chuckling.

Gonff slung an arm around Martin’s shoulders, saluting with his free paw. “We’ll start looking around outside. They’ll turn up before too long, don’t worry.”

Goody nodded along with him, though her clear worry didn’t abate. “I hope you two are right,” she said, paws knotting and unknotting her apron strings until they got stuck. “Oh, Ben, get up and go ‘elp, won’t you? I won’t be happy until I see their mucky little snouts again.” Untangling her paws, she went off to ask Bella for help.

Soon, dozens of creatures were abroad in Mossflower, all searching for the pair of wayward hedgehogs. Squirrels swung through the canopy, eyes on the ground below them, otters combed the stream banks, moles trundled through last autumn’s loam. Rowanoak and Bella remained behind in case Ferdy and Coggs made their way back to Brockhall, while Chibb and Ballaw (hares being natural runners) worked to keep each search party abreast of developments.

Fates and fortunes willing, they’d find the pair none the worse for wear.

As it turned out, Kotir soldiers had found Ferdy and Coggs first.

Startled awake in the early morning when Cludd’s patrol collapsed their tent, the brothers were trussed to a spear and slung between two soldiers before they were even awake enough to tell up from down. Terror gagged their mouths and stilled their limbs as effectively as the ropes they’d been bound in.

The next few hours were the most harrowing in their young lives. Upside down and slung from spears, the two brothers endured the march to Kotir, knowing they were in more trouble than they’d ever been in before—indeed, more than they could imagine. Questions and fearful surmises whirled through both young heads.

Ferdy wondered if his parents knew they were missing yet. Surely they did. Surely they’d send search parties. Coggs was more concerned with whether the Corim would organize a rescue, and trying not to imagine how upset Mum and Dad were. If they were crying, or if they were out in the woods, looking too.

By the time they were hauled into Tsarmina’s personal chambers, each had come to the decision to show no fear, so that the other wouldn’t be afraid. They lay huddled together on the floor, pain shooting through their bound paws. Above them, the wildcat sat in her carved wooden chair, and watched imperiously as Ashleg cut the ropes and the filthy gags. They didn’t move or even whimper as the circulation was restored to swollen limbs.

Cludd used his spearpoint to prod Ferdy, who squirmed away from it. “Huh, they look fit enough, m’lady. What ‘ave you got to say for yerselves, eh?”

Coggs rolled over so he was snout-to-snout with his brother, and said, “Don’t breathe a word, matey. We’ll be brave like Martin and Gonff. Brave and silent.”

Fortunata kicked out at the prisoners and immediately regretted it, having forgotten about a hedgehog’s spines. Young as they were, Ferdy and Cogg’s both were hard and sharp, and she cursed as she nursed her footpaw. “Benighted, blasted—ooh, that hurt—”

Cludd stamped the butt of his spear against the floor, ignoring the vixen. “Silence, prisoners! Don’t you know you’re in the presence of Tsarmina, Queen of the Thousand Eyes?”

Heartened by Fortunata’s painful mistake, Ferdy curled his lip in defiance and spoke out boldly. “She’s no queen of ours! We’re woodlanders!”

The rest of the “interrogation” went about as well. Tsarmina tried to use their exhaustion and hunger against them, bribing the pair with food and rest, but made no progress. She was left with two sleeping baby hedgehogs on the floor, a ruined apple she’d embedded her claws in (in lieu of embedding them in said baby hedgehogs and losing a source of information), and absolutely nothing to show for it.

“I don’t see why you don’t just string them up and let them have a taste of your claws, m’lady,” Cludd said, prodding them again with the butt of his spear. “That’d soon get them to talk.”

“You would think that, idiot,” Tsarmina hissed at him. “They’re woodlanders, yes, but they’re only babes. They’d die too quickly for torture to be effective.” She glared hatefully at the pair, arms around each other and snoring softly. “Still, there are two of them. I may try that if things don’t change soon… Hmph. Later. Take them away. We’ll leave them in the cells for the day and see if they’re not a bit more talkative tonight,” she ordered, flicking her paw in dismissal. “Now go—I need to think.”

The sun was approaching its zenith when the woodlanders regrouped in Brockhall. Grim-faced, Gonff tossed a blanket and an empty cordial jar upon the center table. “We found that in a clearing ‘bout halfway ‘tween here and Kotir. Tracks all over the place, and it stank of weasel and ferret. Big party, I’d say.”

“Is there any other news?” Bella asked, though she didn’t sound very hopeful.

“I sent Chibb to Kotir,” Sayna said quietly. “I’d hoped I was worrying for nothing, but he heard Tsarmina interrogating Ferdy and Coggs. They’re unharmed for the moment, but they’re certainly captured.”

Murmurs of consternation rippled through the gathered creatures. “Mates, it doesn’t bear thinkin’ about, those two pore little ‘uns in the vermins’ brig!” Skipper burst out, slamming his paw into the mantel.

Columbine slipped her paw into Gonff’s. “What’ll we tell Ben and Goody?” she asked.

Gonff squeezed her paw in reassurance. “Tell ‘em we’ll rescue them straightaway! That’s what we’ll tell ‘em!” he declared, loudly enough for everyone to hear.

There was a roar of approval.

Bella had to shout to be heard, and a badger’s shout is very hard to ignore. “Please, Gonff! Be sensible!” Eventually, the hall settled again. “Yes, the Corim will mount a rescue operation,” she said, glancing at the other leaders and receiving nods of agreement. “But we must plan carefully so that more prisoners aren’t taken, and more lives lost. We must not run off and do anything reckless in the meantime.” She glanced at Martin.

“I haven’t done anything!” he protested.

“Yet.” Quiet laughter greeted Vurg’s dry comment, and even Bella was smiling in spite of the serious nature of the meeting. He continued on, looking at Bella. “All well and good to say we’ll rescue Ferdy’n’Coggs, an’ I’m all for it. But don’t forget, we need to get this spy business started, too.”

“Mask, brother?” Skipper asked.

Mask saluted with an almost lazy wave of the paw. “I’ve got one or two thoughts, Skip. I’m planning to slip in tonight—no, won’t say how, it’s safer that way for all of you. I’ll see which way the wind blows and figure out a way to get word back t’you through Chibb.”

Sayna nodded. “Having a contact on the inside would certainly help with any future escape attempt.”

“Then it’s settled,” Bella said, putting a paw down on the table firmly. “Mask will infiltrate tonight, and we can hope for some word—when?”

“Tomorrow night at the latest,” Mask promised. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I ought to get ready.”

“Mask, sah,” Ballaw said, hurrying after him. “Not to tell you how to do th’ job, but the Players and I… Well, we’ve come up with a little somethin’.”

Mask shrugged, and gave the hare a quick grin. “Why not? I’ll take a listen.”

They walked out of the room with heads bent, talking to each other. Bella looked at Rowanoak and raised both eyebrows, demanding an explanation.

She just smiled. “Don’t worry, Bella,” she said, looking rather pleased. “It’s a good idea and won’t impede Mask’s mission at all. Just a little extra, to keep the cat on her toes.”

Amber grinned. “Well, I can’t object to that.”

Bella shook her head. “Neither can I, as long as no one gets hurt from it.” She rose and began to shuffle to the door. “Sayna, come with me. We’ll have to break the news to Goody and Ben eventually, and it’ll be easier on them if it’s us.”

Of all the assignments given in the army, guard duty was the worst. Stuck on a wall all night, nothing to look forward to, staring out into the trees, and doing nothing but waiting for somebeast else to come up and take your place… If you were paired with a mate, it wasn’t so bad, sure, but if not, then it was practically the road to Hellgates.

Skinnose and Mangeface were not mates. They’d also been given a double shift by Cludd for starting a fight in the mess, and so were stuck on the wall top over the main gate, together, for the entire night. The only thing weasel and ferret shared was the righteous indignation of the unjust punishment though, typically, this did exactly nothing to reconcile them.

“Huh, it’s probably gonna rain,” Skinnose muttered under his breath, shifting from one foot to the other. “Cold, an’ wet, an’ hungry—if you hadn’t started that fight, we’d both be inside and warm right now.”

“I started it?” Mangeface growled, taking his eyes away from the treeline to glare at him. “Don’t talk stupid, yore the one who kicked me leg. I was just defendin’ meself.”

“Me? Talk stupid? You tripped me!”

“I never—”

Glaring at each other, paws clenched around their spears and ready for all the world to thwack the other with them, Skinnose and Mangeface were only distracted by a call from below.

“Oi! Lunk ‘eads! Open the gate!”

Startled, both peered down over the wall top. While they’d been bickering, neither had noticed a figure leaving the underbrush. It looked like one of their lot, though his armor was scratched and dirty and in general he looked as if he’d been dragged through a thorn bush backwards.

“Whaddya want?” Skinnose called down.

“What d’I want?” he demanded, waving both arms irritably. “I want to get by the fire and warm up, idiot, and get some decent food in me for starters! Whaddya think I want, a gilded invitation?!”

“You heard ‘im,” Mangeface said, prodding Skinnose with the butt of his spear. “Go down and open the gate.”

“Why do I have to? You go down, I’m not movin’—”

The weasel below danced in place in frustration. “I’ve been sneakin’ about that maze of trees since last night, an’ if one o’ you doesn’t get that gate open right now, I’ll tell the queen you were sleepin’ at your posts when I came back!”

That got them both moving, and within a moments the small door next to the main gate was creaking open, the battered weasel limping inside, muttering under his breath as he went.

“Thorns an’ roots an’ that blasted eagle t’boot—I tell ye, mates, if I could pack it in an’ get out o’ here, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Not worth it, ’s just not worth it.”

“Huh, got that right,” Skinnose whined. “An’ us rank takin’ the blame when the captain does somethin’ stupid? ’S not fair!”

“All of Cludd’s lot got a half extra ration for dinner,” Mangefur grumbled. “Just for bringin’ in two spinebrats.”

“Cludd actually did somethin’ right?” the weasel scoffed. “Makes me wish I’d managed t’stick with his patrol, instead of slidin’ down a stinkin’ ditch.” He rubbed his narrow stomach. “Thanks, y’two.” He shuffled off towards the main door as the pair of guards returned to their post on top of the wall.

Boredom broken by occasional bickering settled back in before much long, and Skinnose and Mangeface soon forgot the minor diversion. It never occurred to them that they’d never seen the weasel they’d just let into the fortress—or that the weasel might not be a weasel at all.

Mask had made his first move into Kotir.

First Chapter : : Previous Chapter  : : Next Chapter 

[forged-through-trials]

The Imperial City was pretty quiet after that. With the guard-corruption squashed, and the grave-robbing halted, the city settled into something approaching peaceful. Which left nothing for me to really do besides hang out in my room at the Merchant’s Inn, and just drink the days away. Ruin insisted we get out from time to time. Yes, we did end up trying out the Tiber Septim Hotel for a dinner together. Ow, my poor coin-purse. Food was pretty tight, though.

Finally a whole week had passed. Seven days of me nearly going stir-crazy in my room, like I was on lock-down with the Peryite Flu. It was at last time to head back to the Arcane University to check on Boderi Farano and her progress. Boderi: “Some--” She teleported into the room, and stepped off the pad. “--BODY once asked “Me to translate books real fast “They had to get more evidence for their case “I said ‘yep, gimmie a week’ “’I’ll have all the answers that you seek’ “Now you can get back to the chase!” Trials: “...” Deadpan. “If you don’t stop singing, I will punch you.” Boderi: She frowned and reeled back a pace. “By Azura, you’re a grumpy one.” Ruin: “I assume you’ve made progress with the books we gave you?” Boderi: “Well, good news and bad news on that front. The bad news is that we can’t give them back to you. They contain forbidden knowledge comparable to necromancy and as such, we can’t let them out of the Arcane University. “The good news, however, is that we’ve copied an excerpt of the journal with all the important entries related to your case.” Ruin: “Was there anything in the other books related to our case?” Boderi: “Indeed there was. The Spell and Alchemy book contained various shamanic spells, most we’d already seen ogres use, but there were a few surprises to be had. “The other one was a gross cookbook, with recipes involving human meat and goblin brains.” Trials: “Eww.” Boderi: “All these books form the proof that the person you know as ‘Lord Baldor Varian’ is, in fact, an ogre who consumed the real Lord Varian’s flesh to take his form, and his brain to absorb his memories.” Trials: “Ugh, startin’ to wish I’d skipped breakfast, today.” Boderi: “Along with the journal entries, I’ve included an official letter bearing the seals of the Mages Guild and Arcane University to the authorities of Skingrad. It should be sufficient to have the guards arrest Lord Varian.” Trials: “Nice! Here’s hopin’ we don’t need two witnesses to the sun shining out of a dog’s arse to get the Skingrad City Guard to get their butts in gear.” Ruin: “You’re really not going to let that go, are you?” Trials: “It’s just so infuriatingly dumb!”

I took a look at the notes Boderi provided. They were exactly what Boderi described; excerpts from an ogre’s journal, and an official-sounding letter for the Skingrad City Watch. The journal described the slow progression of the ogre mage. How he’d discovered the recipe to steal memories from cooking and eating the brains of his victims, and similarly learned the recipe for stealing the form of a victim from consuming their flesh. A gross, grim tome, as the ogre mage progressed from experimenting on rats and imps, to goblins, and finally to people. It was when the mage started hitting people that he vastly increased his knowledge and ingenuity. After a few victims, he was able to perfect the recipes through experimentation, growing his intellect and increasing the duration of the effects. Eventually, he schemed to enter the “human city,” presumably Skingrad, to have a steady supply of human flesh. By luck, he happened to capture the real Baldor Varian, and proceeded to kill, cook, and eat him, obtaining his form and memories. He then proceeded to take Baldor’s place as a nobleman of Skingrad, and one by one, consume Baldor’s servants. Eventually, he had to travel to another province to finalized his arranged marriage with Lucy, and take her back to Skingrad. That’s where the abuse began, just as Lucy described, and it seemed that the ogre’s need to keep up appearances was the only thing that saved Lucy from being eaten. Shortly after getting her back to Skingrad, Lucy fell ill. This is likely where Baron von Zarov got involved. The fake Baldor called Doctor Helsong, again, trying to keep up appearances, but Lucy ‘died’ of her illness shortly there after. The fake Baldor then left the cave to his brother--I guess that was the ogre Ruin and I found in Grayrock Cave--and that was the end of the journal. With these in hand, it was time to return to Skingrad. While this isn’t quite bringing Baron von Zarov to justice, this is the next best thing. The Ogre-Varian needed to be stopped before he killed again.

It took a few hours, but we hiked it quickly from the Arcane University directly to Skingrad. Once there, I found the nearest guard, and presented them with the Arcane University’s writ. Trials: “I have proof that Lord Varian--” Private Janora: “Stop right there, criminal scum! I mean, citizen! If it concerns the nobility, this is way above my pay-grade. Captain Dion is the one you want to see about this.” Trials: “Why can’t you just take the writ to him? Do I look like a courier to you?” Private Janora: “Yes! I’ve seen you delivering packages around town.” Trials: Deadpan. “...well, very astute of you.” So our next stop was to seek out Captain Dion. We found him near the chapel. Trials: “Ho, Captain. Remember me?” Captain Dion: “Yes, I do; you riled up the town-eccentric into a murderous frenzy until I had to put him down.” Trials: I tugged at my collar awkwardly. “Ooph, yeah, those were crazy times... two months ago... “Anyway, today I come to you with proof that Lord Baldor Varian is an impostor!” I passed him the writ from the Arcane University, and he took a few moments to read it. Captain Dion: “These are serious charges. Your evidence is in order, but concerning a noble of Skingrad, I cannot act without approval of the Count. I’ll need you to go to the castle and seek his confirmation right away.” Trials: I rolled my eyes. “Oh for Hist’s Sake, am I just going to get bounced around all day? Next, I’ll go to see the Count and he’ll be like; ‘Oh, sorry, I can’t help you. Go run your tail back to the Imperial City and get word from the Emperor.’ “And then I do it, and the Emperor will say: ‘Sorry, can’t help you. Instead, I’m going to refer you to Talos.’ “And then I meet Tiber-gods-damned-Septim, and even he tells me; ‘I’ll help, but first, you gotta get permission from my friend, Todd’.” Captain Dion: “...who the hell is ‘Todd’?” Well, there was nothing else for it. Ruin and I schlepped it over to Skingrad Castle, and spoke with the steward, Mercator Hosidus. Hey, I wonder if he knows Mercator Saccus from A Fighting Chance in the Imperial City? Mercator Hosidus: “The Count will not see you now. Not now, not ever. He sees no one. I’m Mercator Hosidus, his steward. I believe that’s all you need to know.” Trials: “...” I rolled my eyes. “Tell him a ‘No Soliciting’ sign would be both cheaper, and just as effective. “Anyway, we have evidence that Lord Baldor Varian is an impostor. So tell the Count to get his shoes on and get down here to see it.” Mercator Hosidus: “These are serious charges. May I see your evidence?” Trials: I presented him with the Arcane University’s writ. “Right here! Signed and sealed by the Council of Mages.” Mercator Hosidus: He examined the writ, and gave a solemn nod. “Ah, excellent work. Accusing a Lord of Skingrad without any backup evidence would have led you nowhere. Thanks for taking the precautions of making this all official. The Count will be pleased that you handled this like you did.” Trials: Deadpan. “...gee, thanks. How fortunate for me that I did ninety-percent of the work for you.” Mercator Hosidus: “Stow the sass, lizard. I’ll talk to the Count as soon as possible, and I expect there’ll be an arrest tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to watch it but you mustn’t intervene. This is a matter for the guards.” Trials: I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather I finish up that last ten percent for you?” Mercator Hosidus: He grit his teeth and sneered. “Look, I don’t need your cheek. I’m already busy ghost-writing the Count’s book where he teaches children to count bats. I’ve got to figure out a way to transliterate his ‘Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.’ laugh by this afternoon!” Trials: “He’s writing a children’s book? Aww, that’s sweet of him. Does he need anyone to write the forward for it?” Mercator Hosidus: “Nah, it’s already presented by the letter ‘þ’.” Trials: Confused. “...the hell is that?? The bastard-child of a ‘b’ and ‘p’? Mercator Hosidus: “I think it looks like a pregnant ‘I’.”

Oh goodie, more waiting! Well, we had a few hours to kill before Hosidus had everything in order and we could arrest Varian, so I hit the shops. It was in “Hammer And Tongs” that I spoke with Agnete The Pickled. Agnete: “I’m PICKLED AGNETE!” Trials: “...” I burst into laughter, huffing and wheezing. “...by the gods, funny stuff!” Ruin: “...I don’t get it.” Trials: “But Ruin, she’s Agnete the Pickled! It’s the funniest name I’ve ever heard!” Ruin: “I still don’t get it.” Agnete: “Welcome to Hammer and Tongs. What can I do ya for?” Trials: “Browsing, mostly. Oh, also, before I forget, I’m representing a ‘Thalonias, late of Balmora,’ currently residing in Weye. He’s looking for someone to supply his shop, and I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to cut a deal?” Agnete: “This sounds like a very good deal -- I could expand all over Cyrodiil like this! I’d just need a little capital to cover the first shipment. Say, two-hundred and fifty Septims.” Trials: “Ow, that’s like a whole dinner at the Tiber Septim Hotel!” I groaned and slumped. “Fiiiiine! But only because you made me laugh with that ‘Pickled Agnete’ bit. I sure hope Thalonias appreciates the sacrifices I’m making for him.”

With that done, Ruin and I retired to the Fighters Guild to rest up for the following morning. We rose with the sun, and eagerly raced down the street to Baldor’s estate, spying a battle-mage accompanying two members of the Skingrad City Watch. The battle-mage approached Ruin and I, and spoke to us. Albeci Calleius: “So, you’re the one who gathered the evidence, is this right? Well, this is a job for the local city guards now, so you stay out of the way, alright?” Trials: “Sure I can’t just pop in and finish what I’d started? I’ve been on this case for a month.” Albeci Calleius: “Commendable, but I can’t allow that. Only city guards and legion soldiers are authorized to make arrests.” He directed his men to move in, and the two guards slipped into the manor. I could hear shouting from within the building, then crashing, as the obvious noises of struggle could be heard coming from within the manor. A guard exited after a moment, and spoke up to the battle-mage in command. Skingrad Guard: “Sir, he’s changed into an ogre, and he’s using magic! I don’t think we can handle this on our own.” Albeci Calleius: He gave a firm nod to his subordinate, then turned to Ruin and I. “It seems we have the final piece of evidence to back up your accusations. My men need assistance. I’d better go in so my magic can support them. Unless...” Trials: “...” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Oh, here we go.” Albeci Calleius: “Do you still want to help?” Trials: I shrugged. “Last ten percent it is, then!” Albeci Calleius: “Alright, in you go! I had wanted to take this imposter alive, but it seems that is no longer an option.” Ruin: “We’ll try to leave him as intact as possible.” Trials: “Oooh, someone is confident today!”

We rushed into the manor, and spied “Baldor” on the second floor. He came rushing down the stairs at us, but I came prepared. I’d been carrying Poisons of Silence to deal with Vampire Mages, and thought this an opportune time to pour one out over Light of Dawn. That took care of his spell-casting, and from there, the ogre only had his fists to rely on against us. The last time I fought an ogre head on, I was pummeled to a pulp and barely survived, and all I had to show for that instance was a few broken ribs and a basket of bread! This time, I was stronger, faster, and smarter than before. I dodged those huge, meaty fists like a pro, and moved in, even as the Ogre leaped up, looking to axe-handle slam me from above. I pointed Light of Dawn up, and the ogre came down onto the blade, his own weight forcing the blade through his tough hide, impaling him on the sword. The ogre roared, flailing those huge limbs, as I quickly drew Light of Dawn out of his gut, and with a quick slash, took out his throat, finally putting an end to the false Balor once and for all. Once we’d dealt with the ogre, Ruin and I exited, and met with Albeci Calleius once more. Albeci Calleius: “I take it you were victorious, then? A pity we couldn’t arrest the ogre mage, but you did what you had to do.” Ruin: “Congratulations, Trials. You can finally close the book on this case.” Trials: I paused, contemplatively. “Well... almost... not quite...” Albeci Calleius: “Well, my part is done, here. The castle steward may offer you a reward for your part. You should come up there and see them when you’re able to.”

We retreated back over to Castle Skingrad, but the whole walk there, I had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Sure, we’d stop the Fake Baldor, but Baron von Zarov was still at large. Once we arrived back at Castle Skingrad, we were met by Steward Hosidus. Mercator Hosidus: “Word of your deeds have proceeded you. Congratulations! It is my great honor to give you this reward for all your efforts in this dramatic case.” He passed me a large purse of gold coins. “It is especially the way you handled the situation that you are to be commended for. You went to great lengths to gather evidence to prove the case, and stopped a monster from preying upon the people of Skingrad. For that, you have the gratitude of the whole city.” Trials: I sighed, unable to appreciate the gratitude. “Well, thank you, but... but this case isn’t quite ‘closed’ yet. There’s another wrinkle to iron out.” Mercator Hosidus: “Oh? And what ‘wrinkle’ is that?” Trials: “It’s about Baron von Zarov. I have reason to believe that is a vampire.” Mercator Hosidus: He gave pause for a moment, then broke into laughter. “Ah hah hah! That’s funny! Lord Varian is an ogre, and Baron von Zarov is a vampire? I guess the other lords are werewolves and the ladies are liches! Ah hah hah hah hah!” Trials: I grit my teeth, wilting under his mocking laughter. “But it’s true! I’ve been working this case for a month, ever since the body of Lucy Varian disappeared! He’s a vampire!” Mercator Hosidus: “This isn’t funny anymore, kiddo. I know you’ve done a service to the city, but I can’t just act on your word alone. Especially not after we were duped by the last ‘Vampire Hunter’ to come waltzing into town. You’ll need proof.” Trials: I flailed my arms in frustration. “Then let me get the proof you need. You know I can do it. I just need the key to Zarov’s manor.” Mercator Hosidus: “Fine.” He took a moment to search through his keychain, before producing the key to Zarov’s manor. “Here’s the key. You’re free to enter the Baron’s house for the time being. You mustn’t steal anything, but only take the poof of his culpability. And report to me directly.” Trials: I offered him a salute. “Righto. I’ll be back in two shakes of my tail!” We rushed back into town. You know, Gentle Reader, it is such a shame that the Fake Baldor took the evidence I’d found the last time I broke into lawfully entered the Baron’s manor. Who knows what the ogre likely did with them? But there’s bound to be more evidence to be found at Zarov’s manor. Ruin and I entered, and began the search. I immediately rushed to the second floor, where I tugged upon the candelabra... only to find it wouldn’t budge. I tried again, and again, but the damn thing was stuck fast. Trials: “Th-the secret door won’t open!” Ruin: “It seems it is no longer possible to prove there was a secret entrance from the Baron’s house into the sewers.” Trials: “Nnngh!” I fumed, but calmed myself and wiped the sweat from my brow. “It’s okay. We can still salvage this situation. We just need to get into the city sewers.” Ruin: “What about that skull on the shelf? Is that not evidence?” Trials: “Nah, that’s only proof that he shares a crap-sense of interior decoration with most of Cyrodiil.” Ruin: “If grave-robbing carries the death-penalty, why is it legal to just display a skull on one’s bookshelf?” Trials: “Because Cyrodiil is a clown-province full of lazy guards and nonsense-laws.”

We rushed back through town, heading to the south tip, where an old abandoned house lie. A month ago, when I scrambled, screaming and damp with sweat--and other fluids--from the city sewers, I popped up in this run down hovel, so I knew there was an entrance back into the sewers from here. We just needed to get in, and get down there. We were down there once more, and the stench of those sewers was a familiar, if unwelcome, hit. The odor was enough to sting the eyes and nose, and I groaned as I struggled through the sewers, pacing ever forward. Eventually, I led Ruin through the sewers. With a combination of memory, and the knowledge that the Baron’s home was vaguely north of the abandoned house, I found the tunnel that led under the Baron’s manor, and we strode forward. I crossed the bridge over the pit, and found the wrack that once contained the Baron’s bottles of spare blood. ...and was currently empty. Dammit! I turned back toward the pit, and climbed down into it... only to find it, too was empty. Unlike the vampires of Fort Carmala, the Baron didn’t believe in leaving rotting corpses lying around as decoration. Trials: “Dammit! The evidence is gone!” Ruin: “Zarov was one step ahead of us.” Trials: I grit my teeth, and shook. “It’s... it’s okay! We can still salvage this!” Ruin: “...how?” Trials: “I... Miaren Girendas! Over at Magh-Gra’s Tack and Supplies. She could at least confirm that the Baron left here with Lucy Varian.”

We rushed out of the sewers, and darted as quickly as we could over toward Magh-Gra’s, whereupon we found the Dark Elf in the corner of the shop, tending to her duties. Miaren: “Good day to you. Can I help with something?” She sniffed the air around us, and then covered her nose. “Ugh, perhaps by pointing you to the nearest bath?” Trials: “Yeah, sorry, we just got out of the sewers. Anyway, we need to talk about Baron von Zarov.” Miaren: “...what? What is it you’re saying?” Trials: “...” I grew increasingly irate. “Baron. Von. Zarov!” Miaren: “Never heard that name before. Who is he? Your master? Does he have an order in our shop?” Trials: “...” The hope audibly drained out of my voice. “You... really don’t remember, do you?” Miaren: “Sorry, remember what?” Trials: Defeated. “You don’t remember at all.” Miaren: “Let me check for his name in our ledgers. I’m sure that if we have an impending order it will be in the books.” Trials: Defeated. “It won’t.” Miaren: “Oh really?” Trials: Defeated. “Do you... not remember me, at all?” Miaren: “Not at all. Should I? When did we meet?” Trials: Defeated. “...never mind.” Ruin and I stepped out of the shop, and I hung my head, dejected. Ruin: “All of the evidence has vanished. The Baron must’ve known you were onto him and cleared everything. Even Miaren very memories!” Trials: I slammed a fist into the near wall. “It’s... we can still salvage this! I just need to find a way to time-travel back to two-months ago and--” Ruin: “My friend, let it go. The Baron outwitted us, this time.” Trials: Defeated. “Ugh... you’re right.” We carried back over to Skingrad Castle to report in. Hosidus was about as helpful as you might imagine; with no proof, he could not take action against Zarov, so we were effectively stonewalled. The Baron won this one, it seems. Well, at least I nicked his rare wine bottles!

[tmnt-brave-new-world]

So, what exactly do you guys do now? Like, what occupation do the four of you have to afford the high life? I mean, I get the broad aspect of it. I guess I just really want to know more. My mun is being mysteriously closed lipped about it. And......do you guys really get driven around?

Good evening Miss Vicky,

Leo: “We each found our interests and talents opened up a several viable options that had lead us each to a “unique” position.” Leo led as he gathered his thoughts. “Keep in mind after we managed to stop Krang and those who worked closely with him, the world was vulnerable. As far as my brothers and I were concerned, we had fought too hard and for too long for someone to simply slip into the power vacuum we had created and to continue to harsh reality Krang had created for Earth’s inhabitants. Due to this we each chose to do what we knew how to do and could most easily adapt as challenges presented themselves.”

He paused for a moment as he thought about the hardships, they had each faced and managed to overcome as they slowly helped right the world and returned her to standing on her own. A shimmering blue jewel among the galaxy and other worlds that had become familiar with the planet and its amenities.

“During our years in the resistance we managed to acquire wealth and assets. We were able to accumulate quite the little nest egg using those. Along with our acquired influence it opened many a door which in the old world would have remained not only closed but permanently locked to us.”

“I became a strategic investor. Buying the remnants of properties, businesses and services and either helping them to return to what they once were or repurposing to better suit the needs of this new era and turn a profit. It proved to be very profitable and allowed for me to continue to churn out profits which allowed for me to seek other properties and businesses to invest in or connect the right individuals with each other in away that led to my ability to offer the initial capital for a small percentage of the quarterly earnings. It helped people to create jobs and led to a lot of normalcy for those who desperately needed.

One hand washes the other, and this in its essence has lead to my own sector of the Tartaruga brothers incorporated. I have a multi-billion dollar operation on Earth and several branches operating throughout the universe currently.”

 Donnie: “As Leo has said,” Donnie commented calmy, “our time resisting and fighting lead us each to our own talents. I spent a lot of time wearing many hats, which included, chemists, doctor, surgeon, agronomist, engineer, electrician, etc. to put it simply I spent a lot of time learning how to save lives, human and otherwise, and the best way to stretch our available resources in a way which led to people surviving. I also had to learn how to create medications which were so commonplace that many died without having them available. Most antibiotics don’t have a very long shelf life and when those ran out initially, we were in constant jeopardy of losing lives to the simplest of bacterial infections. My knowledge, and subsequent research lead to significant improvements and branching into many other factors, and shall we say break throughs.

Needless to say, the value of others wants, lead to my ability to fund the needs of the many. In my sector, I have several leadings areas including pharmacy, medical research, agrarian development, as well as generalized research and development in multiple fields from domestic to military. For obvious reasons, more detailed information is strictly classified.”

 Raph: Raph chuckled as Donnie glossed over his closely guarded research. He was willing to kill to protect his research and continue to control the aspects that allowed him to fund the bulk of his interests and common welfare of those he blanketed with his programs. “They ain’t lying. After the world came back from going to shit, it took awhile to get it back up and going. Additionally, there were a lot of people, generally those not from this world that were way too determined to make sure we failed. This led to a lot of infighting and groups struggling for control. That tends to lead to a lot of shady business if you know what I mean, and it wasn’t like we had any type of social services such as police, fire fighting, or anything else. I initially took charge in areas like these.

I took a lot of care to train groups so that they worked together and were prepared to handle whatever problems came. It took a lot of time to cultivate proper training programs and help prepare people on how to help a traumatized world get back to functioning in a healthy way. I still help do this on planets and areas that are in recovery.”

“That being said however, my primary interest and “job” if you want to call it that, is training mixed martial artist prize fighters for the world federation galaxy league. Simply put we aren’t the only species that likes to watch trained athletes test their skills against one another within their respective brackets, or on specially contracted prized fights. I used to fight for the league and earned a lot of titles and prestige. I won most fights and was often the favorite to win after a while. I’m semi-retired and only occasionally enter the ring now days. However, I take and train promising talents for the league and other groups. I have also trained personal bodyguards for a variety of individuals.  Different specialties come with different specifics and contracts as well as costs. It takes a specific might set for each, and a lot of time to drill into a thick skull.”

Mikey: Mikey laughed at the turtle in red, “Oh yeah, and you were the king of thick skulled back when we were young, and dumb.” He barely dodged the throw pillow that was chucked at his head.  “Let’s see for me personally,” Mikey flashed a big grin, “I happen to be a master of many trades. During our days in the resistance, I learned a lot of different tricks to help make the food rations we had on hand not only palatable but nutritionally sound while feeding a literal army of people! So when it was possible I spent a large amount of time learning how to take fancy old world recipes and revamped them with food sources that were still available or recreated them with off world goodies. I also still paint, and love to collaborate with others to create amazing new concepts!”

His face darkened for a moment as he thought back to the early days of the resistance. “There were so many people who in the blink of an eye had lost everything, and unfortunately it was insanely common to find kids who had either been separated from their families or were the only survivor. In a lot of instances they were traumatized and it took a lot of creative thinking to coax them out of their shells and help to reteach them on how to live. This happened fairly frequently with adults as well. Because of this and what seemed like a never ending shortage of textiles, I had to learn and create new ways to make things and often times help find things that brought the sparkle back to peoples eyes. Because of this however, I have a multimedia conglomerate that allows me to work in a wide area of creative outlets. The fashion world is a flippant mistress, but there are a lot of ways in which one can compete and stand out. It’s led to a lot of lucrative contracts with those who are “starving” for the next amazing piece of creatively, or at least that’s what they tell me. The great thing about taking high end contracts and commissions is that a lot like my brothers, the revenue lets me continue to reach out to others. I fund a program that includes shelters called “Uncle Mikey’s” for those who are missing, exploited, or just need help. I also teach cooking, and practical skills for those who need them, and they are streamed to community centers such as local libraries, after school programs, and the like, to try and continue to help those who never received a chance to learn to do things due to the world kind of going through an apocalypse level event.

 We hope this answers your question Miss Vicky. From the Tartargua Brothers collectively

[goddessofphilosophy]

The Opening of the National 9/11 Memorial & Museum was a success. Visitors flocked from all over the country. There were a lot of millenials who were admiring the exquisite works of art depicting the terrorist attack that robbed some lives, fifteen years ago. The New York Times didn't miss how Andréas empathized with the survivors. He even called Hyacinth on the stage and introduced her as the biggest influence in his life who made him a better person simply by loving him right. She was extremely delighted at his bold declaration of affection in front of an audience, it was the first time. She kissed his cheek and this was the photo in the headline of the newspaper the next day, in a special edition. Hyacinth has taken cared of their family's publicities by controlling the media. She was after all the Chief Operating Officer of The New York Times. This helped them maintain their social status and protect their secret. Any of her family members was never under the scrutiny of the public eye. And this is how they have managed to live peacefully in New York City. A few celebrities and politicians tarried to exhange pleasantries with them. Some are Hyacinth's clients when she was still a full-time attorney at the law firm, before she passed on the leadership position to Leah. There were also business partners of the Houghton Enterprise and Descartes Corporation. They were all glad the proceeds will be donated to charity. Druella, Astoria, and Amberleighn were too busy with Fashion Week and never had the luxury of time to take even just a glimpse of the artworks. Keeva dropped by on the fourth day, congratulated her parents and updated them about the whereabouts of their grandkids. Later that day, Annicka freshly arrived from the airport and brought Japanese goodies. The Descartes-Houghton couple had to excuse themselves and go home early in order for Annicka to rest. On their way back to the Descartes Mansion, Hyacinth received an e-mail from Andrei, her youngest son. Andrei Heinrich is currently finishing his degree in Psychology in Harvard University located in Cambridge, Massachussets. He is a bright kid, graduating this semester, after only three years. There was no need to hurry but he was so excited to take Masters and Doctorate degrees while practicing his profession. And she was way too supportive in acheiving his dreams. Andrei: Hey Mom! Thanks for arranging our accomodation at The Ritz Paris. You're the best! Our flight's tomorrow afternoon. I know you're too busy, don't surprise me at the airport. THAT IS UNNECESSARY. It's funny I don't miss Paris at all. How many years has it been since we left? And oh yeah, how was it being the curator at the 9/11 memorial museum? Haha! Just kidding! Tell pops I'm proud of him. Love you both. She read it silently and asked herself the same question: How many years has it been since they left? How many years had passed since he returned in their lives? How many years had gone since she sold that apartment full of Andrei's childhood memories? She never came back to Paris. She wants to forget what happened in Paris. Andi realized her change in demeanor, "Who was it?" She needed to repress her emotions, "Oh it's Andrei. He said he's proud of you," and smiled. "So is he coming to visit on Friday after his class?" "I don't think so," she responded leisurely. Before he can ask why, they were already home. Fortunately or unfortunately, she didn't have to explain ... yet. Annicka went straight to her room and reminded them to wake her up for dinner, "I've been missing family dinners for such a long time!" She had three hours to sleep. It was too early to retire but Hyacinth wasn't feeling well. She also went straight to bed after kicking off her shoes. She decided to send a reply to her son. Hyacinth: No worries, not coming at the airport, you spoiled brat! Never knew being a curator is so much fun! Are you sure you don't want to drop by and see the paintings for yourself? Enjoy your weekend at Paris! Call me when you get there. Missing you! We love you too! xx After checking her other notifications, she placed the phone in her bedside drawer. She was staring at the elegant ceiling when Andi laid beside her. The silence was defeaning yet comforting. He stretched his arm to cuddle and kissed her shoulder. Then he whispered, "Thank you." He wanted to say more. He wanted to say thank you for supporting him in this project, for understanding the nature of his work, for patiently waiting for him to come back home, for giving him another chance, and for giving him a wonderful family. Truthfully, the list is endless. "No, thank you," she responded fervently. "You were saying Andrei won't be able to come and visit, why?" "He's going to Paris this weekend," she stated, a little bit worried because Andrei is such a playboy. "Why is he going to Paris though?" "I honestly don't know but that's the trend nowadays: millenials exploring the world." "Alright. It's good he wants to see the world like you do. But who's he with?" "With his friends, I guess." "Where is he staying?" "At The Ritz, I've booked their rooms." "Doesn't he want to stay at your apartment there? Where he grew up?" That was it. She was done entertaining his questions. He didn't know she sold the property. She remembered the last night she was in Paris with a six-year old Andrei. Hyacinth loved Paris the most. She had countless happy memories of his father in its lovely streets. Nothing compared to the magnificence of Paris, not Madrid or Prague or Amsterdam or London. She loved the gothic churches and the legends behind their names. She loved the museum and the rich culture they hold dear. She loved the history of the courageous people inhabiting the city, how they fought for liberty. She used to love Paris more than anything in this world. And that love was tainted with misery when she returned with a baby inside her womb, fatherless. Andrei was frustrated they had to move, "Why are we going to New York City, Mommy?" She was restless, "To see your father." "But why can't he come here to see us?" She was taken back and stopped what she was doing. It was an innocent question from a little boy and she didn't know how to respond. "Come here," she instructed him. She hugged him tight and whispered, fighting back tears, "Because he can't." "But Mommy, he can't just be my father when it's convenient for him. So why did he abandon us? Why isn't he here with us? I have never seen him all my life. Is that how it works? He can leave and come back when he wants to? What if he leaves us again?" She was speechless. It was overwhelmingly heartbreaking to hear those words from her son. "Why don't you ask your son?" she snapped, walked away and slammed the door behind her. Andrèas was utterly shocked at her reaction. He tried to follow her but she was gone. She took her car with her but she forgot to bring her phone. Good thing she had spare shoes in her car. She went to the law firm and was greeted by one of the interns. She learned that Leah was still on a meeting so she decided to leave a note for her. Meet me at The Raines Law Room, it says. Urgent. While waiting for Leah, several men offered her drinks and struck a conversation. She was so used it: boys thinking she isn't married, without kids, still in college or recently joined the workforce. They were bewitched by her beauty. She politely turned down each one of them if they ask her to go somewhere else, "I can't, I'm waiting for somebody." After an hour, Leah finally arrived. "I have ten missed calls from Andi. What happened?" she asked, making it sound like Hyacinth did something wrong. "Stop accusing me of starting trouble in paradise for once," Hyacinth retorted. "Damn it, Cinth," she glared at her. "Just talk to him, okay? You are smarter than me, my goodness!" Hyacinth suddenly felt stupid she went to Leah but who else would she confide with? Of course, Andi knew all the possible places she might go to or all the people she would contact. They were both silent for a moment. Maybe she just needed time to think, Hyacinth thought. She requested for two glasses of white wine to the bartender and handed a glass to her friend, "Sometimes I wonder why I married him, despite his being away all the time." Leah sighed, she knew Hyacinth needed someone to listen, not comfort her or tell her what to do. "Sometimes I wonder if he's only doing those sweet gestures as an apology, to make up for all those years he was not around. Do you think he'd leave us again? Is he doing it on purpose? But why? It's just a matter of time, Leah. I better be prepared this time if one day he doesn't come back, right? All those years I asked myself if I failed to read the signs. I kept wondering what I did wrong. Am I not a good wife? "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision to take him back. I was fine in Paris with Andrei. I was damn fine on my own, without him. But my mother kept telling me how important family is. She's so traditional it's bothersome sometimes. I can't blame my mother though, after what he put me through, he was still the only person I loved so damn much. "Sometimes I wonder what if I aborted Andrei then? We won't have any reason to stay together. I can say to all our friends that our marriage failed. That we loved each other but it wasn't meant to be. That love was never enough and we couldn't make things work. That some things are meant to fail. And people like me can't have it all. "Sometimes I wonder if I should file a divorce. He would probably hire you as his lawyer. And Leah, remember this, that if you accept his demand, our friendship is over. I will take the law firm back. But then I see him with my siblings and my mother, how he respects them and think where would I get someone better than him?" It was not new to Leah that Hyacinth keeps on blabbing when she's so upset. Overthinking is her drug. She could practically finish a novel. "Are you done with your declamation piece? Here's your husband on the other line," she handed the phone to her. "Hello?" Silence. "Hello, love?" Silence. "Where are you?" She was both surprised and irritated he asked. "Love, please." No, she won't cry. "I can hear you breathing, please." She needed to stand her ground. "Talk to me, please." How does one stop the tears from falling, she thought. She did not want to say a word. She did not want him to know she was crying. "Just please come back home," he was pleading. And she did. She faintly smelled of alcohol but he didn't mind. "I prepared dinner, your favorite," he smiled sheepishly. She wanted to say she's sorry. She's sorry she can't forget the things she needed to forget when she kept forgetting where she put her glasses or her phone or her keys. She's sorry she's still afraid he'd leave them one day, for good. Also, she's sorry, no matter how trivial it is, that she doesn't know how to cook. But she didn't say a word and they both ate in awkward silence.

[spoonlesstheory-blog]

Where “we” began.

What an appropriate time to create a blog when exactly 366 days ago I drove a whopping 1 hour away to pick up the oversize potato you see in my header, and hoped with a little bit of time and pixie dust that he would become my "independence". I put quotes on that considering I'm a strong independent woman that don't need no man, although I do need a dog....and just so happened to have a man. I may possibly need him too. So who am I? Well I am Jae, pronounced like the 10th letter in the alphabet, because I 10 out of 10 recommend you try talking to me and then back away slowly in a considerate amount of time so you don't hurt my feelings once you realize how much I talk about dogs and potatoes. And no, the two are not mutually exclusive. I'm a girl (or WOMAN) entering her 20's that just so happens to have a chronic "invisible illness" and manages it by mellow dramatically whining to my husband on a daily basis about my knees and waddling around the streets with my service dog, Hemingway. Also occasionally asking him to pick up my phone for the 10th time in a day and politely ignoring him while he tries to tell me my blood sugar is low...I'm working on it, okay? Who is Hemingway? I don't even know. Some kind of rotten avocado on stilts perhaps? I was told he's a Great Dane with a little bit of Labrador but I'm starting to think he's just some kind of mutated pepperoni with a semi-functional brain. A service dog had been a strong consideration between me, my doctors, and loved ones for a long while. It wasn't until just over a year ago I decided who needs a super convenient fully trained "program dog" when my half-functional-ass can go buy a puppy and raise it myself? Spoiler alert, 2 weeks later I realized my mistakes and enrolled us into a program. I swear I'm a strong independent woman it was just one time! Sadly, not every dog is created equal, only very few dogs have the tempermant and drive to enter this field of work. So of course I spent weeks researching this magical mixture of traits to ensure I didn't end up being dragged around Target by Cujo at the end of the leash. The day finally came. There I was standing in front of the puppy. Ready with my treats and bag of goodies in hand to tempermant test the best fit. But then the soccer-mom that volunteered at the shelter for 2 weeks because she "wanted to give back to the community" after a rough retirement kicked in full force. I'm talking about that inner Debra we all have in us. And I saw 30lbs of scared puppy, accented by a puddle of urine around him as he screamed because a stranger was looking at him, and I told myself that I just have to have that one. I wanted to be one of those 20 second clips you see on The DoDo about "Determined Debra rehabilitates neglected puppy". I skipped to my car, buckled him in, drove 5 feet away, looked at his scared (literally) shitless face aaaaaaaaaannnnnddddd instantly called my husband on the phone crying and snotting about how I just made the dumbest decision of my life. I'm sure I’ll get around to all the in between moments but fast forward 366 days later and somehow it was the best decision I made. So here's our blog. The daily life of a girl that's kinda just winging it from one potato stand to the next with some weird dog. Oh, and don't worry, this will probably be our longest post.....probably. Don't quote me on that one.

[cruisador-blog]

The Nick Names

As I had just mentioned I had remembered one final thing about the Charleston trip. After Steve and I finished our "quickie" and Barry was at the Farmers Market, I had crawled back into bed on the sofa and fell asleep. When I woke up Barry was back from the Farmers Market with all sorts of goodies. The best of which was Pralines, although there were cookies and some other sweets. He had a flyer with him that he had picked up about a craft fair in Foley Beach. On the map, it looked close to where we were. I said that I would love to go and said I could be ready in no time. I got up once again buck naked and grabbed my bag and headed for the shower. I soon realized I had forgot to pack one or two things, my underwear. I had underwear from the day before but it was black and I had just bought a white sundress with yellow polka dots. There was a store across the street that I figured I could go and purchase something from over there. I was a little nervous about going outside. Not because I was thinking that there were Private Investigators waiting for me, but because when I was about 15, I was expecting something in the mailbox from my uncle.  When I heard the mail truck I went running to the mailbox in gym shorts and a tee shirt. My mom was waiting for me at the front door yelling at me because I went out without a bra. She was telling me that they would start calling me "Nipply Nancy or high beam Hannah" or something stupid like that. I was 15 and flat as a board. She had a habit of being at the wrong place at the right time. I had ended up packing a wig. It was the wig that my ex and I used when he wanted me to be naughty. There were a lot of times when I felt naughty and would put it on before he came home. I had brought it this time as a disguise.

 I was 99.9% certain that I was not followed but for some reason felt more comfortable if I wore it. The plan was that Barry and I would go to the store across the street and Steve would pick us up outside. It was quite the interesting walk to the store. I had never gone out without a bra, oh and I didn't have panties either. When we got to the store it was not open yet. When Steve pulled up, we got in the car and headed for the craft fair. Sometime during the show they said to me, "You look just like the girl from Peggy Sue got Married." The rest of the day I was known as Peggy Sue. Actually, from then on out I was referred to as Peggy Sue. Eventually when I got an email address it had Peggy Sue in the address.

We got back to the hotel and exchanged phone numbers. We said our good byes. When I got back to the house, It was like nobody knew I had gone out of town. A few weeks later I spoke with them on the phone. 6 months later I got a Christmas card and four months after that they called again and asked if I wanted to come to Myrtle Beach for a night the following month. I said I would get back with them, but didn't think I would go. I had been seeing someone and didn't think it would be appropriate. A few days later I started thinking about our night in the Charleston and as time went by all I could think about was just getting to the coast again. I bet for 3 months after our rendezvous in Charleston I had thought about that night every single day. About 2 weeks after I wrote 2 pages front and back about the entire experience. I decided that I would meet them down there and while nothing could compare with the year before, It was still incredible. The following year I agreed to meet them overnight again. We went back to Charleston.

ATLANTA 1995

In the summer of 1994 I had gone back to work for the University. I had been working on my Thesis for a while and was hired as a Professor. The Professor I had been under was leaving and he had contacted the school and told the school that I might be a good candidate for his position when he left. They gave me a year to complete my doctorate before I was a full fledged member of the faculty.

I got my yearly call from "the boys" in April and with the new job had to tell them that I couldn't make it this time but maybe we could do a weekend at the end of the summer. 

I had read an article about some new research that had been done and thought it might lend itself to what I was doing at the University. I asked my supervisor if he new anything about it. I explained why I was so interested and the potential I thought it had on my work. About two months later I saw where the guy was giving a seminar in Atlanta and a few other cities. I only saw Atlanta when I read it. I approached my supervisor and asked if the school would flip the bill for me to attend the seminar. As I was still very new, he stalled, but I wore him down in the end and he asked for my estimates on the cost. I was given my estimates back with most of the items scratched off. If I remember correctly they would pay $300. I submitted bills for twice that. They would pay for the hotel, no airfare but they would pay for my mileage to drive at so many cents a mile, and the cost of the seminar. No meals, parking, incidentals, etc.

At the time I had been seeing a guy for almost a year. He travel extensively and one night we were talking about my trip to Atlanta. I told him what the school was willing to pay and that I was being forced to drive while I wanted to fly. He saw what I had given to the school and he said that I should be able to fly and do everything for that amount of reimbursement. He got on the phone with the airline and then the hotel. By flying in a day early and staying over a Saturday night the flight dropped substantially. It would mean another day at the hotel but I knew I could probably stay with the boys on the Saturday. I did want to stay at the hotel the night before the seminar. I couldn't take the chance of coming in late or missing it because we had car problems or anything. Two nights with the boys would have been too much anyway. In the end I wound up out of pocket twenty to thirty dollars and I didn't have to drive.

I arrived at the airport early and was excited about the trip. Right before boarding a lady came in on crutches and sat across from me. We started talking and she was a retired teacher that had been visiting her grandkids and had fallen over one of them and tore something in her ankle. The boarding started and I had the seat right in back of first class so I was one of the first to board. After most of the people had boarded the flight attendant came up to a few of us sitting there and asked if anyone would be willing to change seats. Right in back of her was the lady on crutches and I would have felt bad if I said no. The seat I was in had a little more leg room than the seats with a chair in front. So off I go following the attendant toward the back. All the way back to like the third seat from the tail. The attendant said they would comp anything I wanted and I jokingly said, "like Bloody Mary's" ? Right before beverage service she came to me with a Bloody Mary. At the end of the flight she gave me an airport voucher worth $10. It took forever to get off the plane that far back and when I was on my way to find the hotel shuttles I decided to use the voucher and get another Bloody Mary. I knew if I didn't use the voucher it would go to waste. What I didn't realize at the time was the guy I had been seeing had gotten up early and had driven to Atlanta to meet me, I guess at baggage claim as a surprise. He had made my flight and my hotel reservations so he knew everything about my trip. Although he didn't know I had cancelled my Saturday night hotel reservation. That could have been a disaster. I found out about it later when I got home and heard all of the messages he had left on my answering machine.

Barry had gone into work to do a little and I took the shuttle to his hotel. He used the opportunity to parade me around as his girlfriend. He was not out of the closet and I had done this stunt with him before when he lived in my apartment complex. I went to their Christmas party and a corporate picnic as his date. That would have been 10 years earlier. After he had made sure everyone had seen us together we headed off to where Steve was working and we sat at a table in the kitchen. Steve was being his typical culinary professional and was giving us sample of this and that and of course letting us sample a lot of wine. Between the Bloody Mary's and the wine I could tell I was feeling no pain.

We were at their home in no time. They lived on the outskirts of the city and entering their neighborhood I could see downtown and easily count the floors of the buildings. They had been talking about a water park and also washing Steve's new car. He had gotten a deal on a 1975 Monte Carlo with around fifty thousand miles. He had always wanted a classic car and this one was pristine. I remember it had swivel bucket seats. That's another story that I wont get into. So the water park and car wash was actually in their back yard. Steve backed his car out of the basement garage and they had 2 black hoses attached to sprinklers on each side of the car. We were all in our bathing suits washing his car. The water coming out of the sprinklers was hot and we were having a good time talking and having fun in the water. Steve was up front taking a tooth brush to the front grill and I was soaping up the back trunk. Barry comes up from behind me and grabs my hand and says, "wax on, wax off". Some people will know that movie line but then he pressed up against me and I turned around and he was completely naked. Being that close to downtown it was secluded. They were on a flood plain as it was all woods in the back and being on a cul-de-sac offered some privacy also. The next thing I know he picks me up and puts me on the trunk and pulls down my bathing suit. Steve was completely oblivious to what was going on and all I could do is stare at the corner of the house waiting for the neighbor, or a delivery driver, or a group of Girl Scouts to come around the corner while he was fucking me. He calls out to Steve and that is when I hop off of him. I was not going to have a threesome in the back yard. We finished washing the car and went upstairs. Steve said we should do a shot. I knew what the shot was about. He wanted to put me over the edge so they could have their way with me. So by now, I had 2 Bloody Mary's, probably 3 glasses of wine at the restaurant and another glass at their house. The shot was not a good idea. It was called a "Coma" and it had a shot of cherry cough medicine, a shot of Bacardi 151 and 2 other liquors. It was like drinking candy but it made me sick and I asked to go lie down. I had been drinking since before 10 am and did not have anywhere near enough to eat. I laid across their bed on towels and passed out. A couple hours later I woke up and knew we were going to a friend of theirs new restaurant for dinner so I tried to get up and pull it together. I needed a shower and went into their bathroom and turned on the shower. There was a small stool in the corner and I put that under the shower head and sat down. I might had fallen asleep again. Next thing I know is the both of them are stepping into the shower with me. I'm still groggy and I have 2 penis at eye level. I ended up sucking them both off. They got out of the shower and after I had washed up I stepped out and they asked what was on my butt. I had been sitting on that stool for so long that the Cosco logo had imprinted on my ass. That's how I got my second nick name. CoCo butt. I guess the "S" was in my butt crack. That was the name that stuck and while Peggy Sue was used, CoCo was generally what they called me. When they had sent me an email, I would usually get a message on my machine asking if I had seen Peggy Sue. That was their way of asking me to call them back. It was great, if someone was there with me I wouldn't have to explain who was calling. They were looking for someone else.