#she can forgive a lot but some things are beyond the pale!!!

[mylittleredgirl]

m*a*s*h set in present day: frank seduces margaret by gifting her flag-themed lingerie ($2.99 clearance at walmart) in a high-end designer shopping bag. she can't contain herself and drops hints all day about how ✨someone✨ is treating her like a queen and wouldn’t-you-like-to-know what he got me and from WHERE here's a hint it's on FIFTH AVENUE. it goes south when frank does something to inspire swamp rat revenge, so they stir up trouble by leaving evidence around that the original contents of the bag were for you-know-who instead. the last straw and last joke of the b-plot as she kicks him out of her tent is that "THESE ARE MADE! IN! CHINA!!!!"

[impossiblesuitcase]

Progeny

Dr. Erland does not die of Letumosis. When the dust of the revolution settles, he must navigate his relationship with Cress and learn how to be—not just her father—but her friend.

Dr. Dimitri Erland was not Dimitri Erland at all. He was a husk of man; his sanity ravaged, memory, sense, morality all lost to the decaying recesses of his mind. 

The mind of a brilliant scientist. The mind of a senile old man.

He remembered Logan Tanner, the head doctor at the Artemisian Medical Centre. Ever sharp, always well-spoken. Never that chummy with any of the other prominent doctors. Eyes perpetually set on galaxies far beyond their rock. He remembered seizing Logan by his collar, slamming him against the wall of an alleyway and demanding the location of Princess Selene. That man hadn’t been Logan at all. A limp rag doll lost to Lunar sickness, the creature inhabiting his body something inhuman.

Dimitri had never imagined himself becoming that way, but as he wrestled against restraints in a bed in the hospital wing of the Lunar palace, he began to understand why Logan took his own life.

He had managed to keep the visions at bay for years. But when he heard that his Crescent Moon had been stabbed, was half dead, all threads of sanity snapped.

He couldn’t forgive himself. He should die, not her. He hadn’t even mustered up the courage to tell her the truth. To tell her how much he loved her.

Dimitri existed in a daze. Emperor Kai visited him once, silent, hair unruly and eyes circled by the deep purple bags. His queen visited later, clutching her wound with a grimace, casting a worried gaze over his form. She told him that they were developing a prototype of Linh Garan’s device and that he would be one of the first recipients. We can fix you, she assured him.

Weeks or months or millenniums passed before he was informed by a chipper nurse that he would receive the device that afternoon.

Not long after she had left, the door cracked open. He wanted to ask for water, but these days any attempt at speech usually came out as a drunken slur, rambled and incoherent even to his own ears. 

It was not the nurse. Cress came to his bedside, hovering at a distance. Her brow was creased. She looked pale, a little gaunt. But she was alive.

Seeing him conscious, she gulped. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I…I heard you were unwell.”

Dimitri’s fingers twitched, desperate to reach for her but unable. Restrained by the bonds, and his own conscience.

Cress produced a flower from her coat pocket. It was a soft pink. He had no idea of its name. “These made me feel better when I was recovering. I thought it might help you too.” 

She set the flower on his bedside table, gazing at it, and for the first time in weeks, he truly spoke. 

“...Why?”

She jumped, startled eyes landing on him. “Wh–why what?”

“Why would you bring me this? Why do you care?” His voice was gravelly, barely comprehensible, as though wolfen soldiers had run their claws down his throat.

Her head tilted to the side as she thought. “I’m not sure. I know you did a lot of bad things, but I also know it took you a lot of courage to help Cinder. I think…you are a good man, with all you did for her.”

I didn’t do it for her, I did it for you.

She allowed a small smile. “She told me that you had a daughter, a shell, like me. And that you wanted to save her but couldn’t. I always dreamed that my parents missed me. I don’t think that anymore but…it’s nice to know that some people did care about us shells.”

Gratitude coloured her sky-blue eyes. With a final nod, she turned and began walking back to the door.

“Everything I did,” he wheezed, “was for you.”

She froze, glancing over her shoulder. “Uh—yes,” was her uncertain reply. “For us shells. Thank you.”

“No. Not for the shells. For you. My girl. My Crescent Moon.”

Cress bristled, something harsh invading her soft features. “How do you know my full name?”

All breath left his lungs. “Because I named you.”

———

It was confounding—not realising how blind you have been until your sight has been returned to you. As the device took fast effect, Dimitri now understood that he had been mad for many years. With this fresh clarity of mind he could recognise the gravity of what he had done.

Cress wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Cinder insisted that she was merely in shock and simply needed time to come to terms with this revelation. To expedite that process, she assigned him to join the Rampion Crew in distributing the Letumosis antidote to the American Republic. His medical expertise and knowledge of the disease would be crucial to eradicating it as soon as practicable. Being in close quarters with his reluctant daughter was simply an unfortunate side effect.

The first few weeks on board were awkward to say the least. Dimitri kept himself cooped up in his room most of the time, researching and writing, sharing his findings with the heads of Letumosis research across Earth—most of them old friends. They were understandably hesitant, knowing now of his deception all these years. But they needed his help and they didn’t have the luxury to not accept it.

Cress busied herself spending time with Miss Benoit, Mr Kesley, and of course, her boyfriend. For all his disdain for the young cad, Dimitri acknowledged that he was the captain of the ship, and in that, he would not question his lead.

As a beau to his daughter, his opinion had not changed.

Meals were the worst. Friendly comradery, joking and smiles. At some point, a gaze would unintentionally fall onto him, having forgotten that he was there to begin with, and their smiles would falter.

He began eating in his room. It was during one such meal that he heard a knock on his door. 

“Can I come in?”

Dimitri said nothing, yet Carswell Thorne entered all the same. “Hey Doc. Finished eating?”

“No, but does it matter?” grumbled Dimitri, already nettled by the boy’s overly casual address.

Carswell was undeterred. “I have a request for you for the next antidote run.”

He raised an eyebrow. Dimitri was the researcher. He hadn’t yet done much else.

“We’ve got to deliver the antidote by 10:00. But we’re also slated to pick up supplies for the ship at the same time. We need someone to go receive the order. Scarlet, Wolf and I are probably better suited to hauling antidote crates off the ship, so I was hoping you two would be willing to meet with the vendor for us.”

“Us two?”

“You and Cress.”

Dimitri sat up in his chair. “What? Have you told her this?”

He scoffed. “Obviously. Aces, do you think I go around forcing Cress into things without her permission? I’m not that bad of a boyfriend.”

Dimitri dropped his knife onto his plate with a clang. “If she agreed to it…”

Carswell sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Listen, Doctor, I have to respect you. You haven’t put pressure on Cress. I appreciate that. But one of you has got to fill this awful chasm between you. You both seem to deal with confrontation in the exact same way: avoiding it entirely.” He chuckled. “Must be a genetic trait.”

For Cress to be anything like him was a simultaneous bloom of hope and a dagger to his chest.

“The way I see it, if you don’t start trying to patch things up now, you’ll never have a relationship. You don’t want that, do you?”

“I want her to be happy.”

“So do I. But Cress seems to interpret the space you’re giving her as rejection, regardless of how I reason with her.” He huffed, but there was fondness laced through it. “She always wanted parents who cared about her. Show her that you do, and then she might start to believe it.”

Dimitri scrutinised the Captain, searching for complacency or condescension on his face. He could only detect sincerity.

“You love my daughter, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He knew it was true. Whenever Cress complained of pain around her stab wound, a stormy expression clouded Carswell’s face. Dimitri may not entirely trust the boy, but this he knew was fact.

He sighed. “I’ll go with her. But I won’t push her.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Carswell moved away from the doorframe, shrugging. “Try to be her friend.”

He sauntered away, appearing so confident he seemed eons older than Dimitri. For the first time, the doctor felt a flicker of begrudging respect for him.

If the Captain had succeeded in winning his daughter’s heart, perhaps Dimitri could learn something from him.

———

Dimitri had no idea what to say to Cress as they met with the vendor. Fortunately, she seemed to have endless questions prepared for him.

“Where did you grow up?” “Who were your parents?” “Did you have any siblings?” These were simple, safe questions, but as she broached into “Who is my mother?” and “What work did you do for the queen?” his responses veered into shameful territory.

Noting his hesitation, she said, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. There should be no secrets between us. Your mother is also a scientist. I believe she’s still alive.”

Her gaze was thoughtful as she approached the next storage crate. With their limited stature they both had to lean on their toes to peer inside. “Should we tell her that we’re both alive?”

Dimitri sighed, scratching his brow. “I don’t believe that would be wise, Crescent. She…she didn’t want you. The moment she discovered you were a shell she…” his mouth grew heavy with salvia, “she wanted you dead.”

Cress began to nod slowly. “Will you go back to her?”

“No. After you were born, I could never look at her the same way again. Every time she smiled at me, all I could see was her revulsion when she handed you over to Sybil.” He exhaled shakily. “I did love her, but I could have never loved her more than you.”

Cress was silent, busy marking items off the list, but her hands were trembling around the portscreen. “It’s okay. When I was in the dormitories, I contacted the parents of one of the shells with me, a boy named Julian. But they didn’t want him back. I suppose I’m lucky that I had at least one parent that wanted me.” 

When she smiled at him, his heart pounded.

It was once they had approved the order and begun the walk back to the Rampion that he ventured to ask his first question. “How did you grow up? You must tell me, please, what Sybil did to you.”

Cress did. She told him of her childhood, how she discovered her talent with electronics, her years in the satellite and her trek through the desert. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted falling in love with Carswell. She shamefully admitted her role in fueling Levana’s power.

“That was not your fault, Crescent.”

“I was her programmer,” Cress resisted. “I could have pretended that it wasn’t possible to spy on Earth. She would have never had the upper hand.”

“Yes, she would have,” he corrected. “Cress, I knew her. Nothing would have stopped her. All you did, you did to survive.”

She shook her head, eyes glassy. “So many lives were lost, and I was a part of the equation.”

Dimitri knew he should do something, say something assuring, but words would not reach through her guilt. And then, without second-guessing it, he gingerly laid a hand on her shoulder.

She blinked at him but did not pull away. 

“I created the mutant Lunar soldiers. I understand what you’re feeling.”

He admitted to her all his wrongdoing and she listened. His deeds of horror didn’t draw her away from him, rather, she asked more and more questions, all the way until they reached the Rampion’s docking hatch. She of course became distracted by Carswell and the others, and before they knew it, lunch and unpacking and dinner had passed and all parties were off in their rooms preparing for bed without the pair having ever formally finished their conversation.

It was a start, a great start. Dimitri repeated this as he trudged down the hallway to the bathroom.

“He’s done a lot of bad things,” he heard Cress say. His feet stalled beneath him. “But he has a good heart.”

The voice slipped through the crack of Miss Benoit’s door. “Well that’s good. Bad things can be made up for, but it’s difficult to fix a rotten heart,” said Scarlet.

Cress sniffled. “I know. It’s just—it’s still strange to have a father.”

He heard the rustle of bedsheets and imagined Scarlet taking Cress into her arms. “Trust me, Cress—there’s far worse fathers to have.”

———

Now, instead of tiptoeing around each other, Dimitri and Cress reached a comfortable understanding. Their conversations—although still sparse—grew more frequent by the day. Dimitri noticed a general improvement in his mood, a gentler lean of his speech. Even the other members of the crew had begun to fold him into their moments of revelry.

It was in one such moment that these bonds were tested.

Cress lay her hand of cards on the table. “And I win.”

All at the table groaned as Cress bested them for the fourth time. 

“How?!” Scarlet whined. “You have disproportionate luck.”

“I have the luck,” Carswell grumbled, dejectedly resting his head on his forearm. “I think she stole it.”

Cress giggled.

Dimitri straightened his cards into a uniform stack. He hadn’t won, though he was in the running for it if he had used some of his old tricks. Then he’d seen the glint in Cress’s eyes and knew with certainty that she was playing them all.

When Carswell delivered her a particularly petulant scowl, Cress held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t play the next round. Give your luck a shot.”

Carswell stuck out his tongue at her and gathered up everyone’s cards. The round proceeded as usual; Carswell’s smack talk, Scarlet’s serious look of concentration, Wolf barely paying attention, too busy idly twisting his fingers around her curls. Dimitri had an average hand, nothing special, but it was the perfect candidate for one of those old bluffs he had learnt back in his days on Luna. He and some of his fellow doctors used to play poker or blackjack; some would even bet using the money they earned from performing plastic surgeries for thaumaturges and Artemisian hopefuls.

Cress caught his eye. His mouth turned up on one side. She smirked.

When Dimitri won the round, the groans were even louder.

“Are you both cheating? I’m pretty sure you’re cheating,” Scarlet complained.

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy,” Dimitri and Cress said in unison. Their gazes flickered together with some surprise.

Scarlet thrust her cards away from her. “Oh who cares, anyway?”

“I do!” Carswell cried.

Cress rested her head against his arm, smiling up at him. “Captain, you know you’re still better than me at poker. But statistically, I have to win sometimes.”

He pouted. “You’re already a genius. This was one thing I could claim! Now what do I have to offer you?”

“Your love and affection?”

Wolf, Scarlet and Dimitri all stood at once as if sensing the tender moment and wanting to get out before things got gushy. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” she announced. “Wolf, you’re on chopping duty.”

Wolf trailed after her like a loyal puppy. Knowing that following them would lead to another equally romantic and uncomfortable situation, Dimitri rerouted to the hallway, catching the last tendrils of Cress and the Captain’s conversation as he went.

“It’s not just you. The Doctor beat me too! It’s like you’ve both got something against me.”

With a laugh, Cress said, “I guess it must be the family curse.”

———

“Is that all that’s left?” Wolf asked as he began hauling a crate of antidote up the ramp of the ship.

Cress checked her portscreen. “Looks like it. Only eleven crates were assigned to us.”

Scarlet, who was shifting the crates into a neat row, frowned. “That’s a lot less than our normal pickup. Are they running out of antidote?”

Carswell charged onboard, rubbing his hands together. “That’s Cinder’s problem. Let’s bounce, people. We gotta get a move-on if we want to make it to the Cali’s New Year’s fireworks tomorrow.”

Dimitri, scanning over the figures on the antidote allotment order, was not so quick to shrug off this irregularity. It was less stock than normal, and judging by the scheduled deliveries over the next month, they would only just manage to have enough.

He commed his queen that evening.

Cinder sighed over the link. “We’re running out. There’s still so much demand for it on Earth and Luna, and with the synthetic version still only in the developmental stage, our supply is dwindling.”

“Can you not enlist more shells to supply the ingredients for the standard antidote in the meantime?” Dimitri suggested.

“We have. Some of them have agreed, but most of the shells aren’t willing to donate. Most of them are only kids, you know.”

He clucked his tongue. “Then perhaps they are too young to understand what’s at stake.”

Cinder asked him to think over some alternative solutions and to get back to her with a response. Over the next weeks, Dimitri made this his sole topic of study.

They were about to land in Miami when Cress peered into the empty crates with worry. “I hope we’ll have enough left.”

Dimitri was alone with her in the dock, fishing through a new shipment of medical supplies. He looked up. “Enough for today, yes. For our entire planned run? Difficult to say.”

Cress twiddled her thumbs. “I can’t stand the thought of leaving without curing everyone.”

He sighed. “Until we fix the supply issue—”

“What supply issue?”

He blinked. He supposed he hadn’t made the others privy to his research. “Luna is running out of the antidote.”

She leant her back on a crate. “I thought they were manufacturing the synthetic antidote now.”

“It’s still only in the developmental stage. All we have is what was manufactured under Levana’s reign. Cinder has asked me to come up with a strategy to manage the limited supply.”

Cress smiled at him hopefully. “So…what have you got?”

He swallowed, pulling a diagnostic monitor from the box. It was a thin bracelet that could determine oxygen levels, blood pressure and heart rate. He slipped it around his wrist. “Well unfortunately it seems the only way we could manufacture more antidote right now is if we extracted samples from ungifted Lunars.”

Her smile fell. “Oh. Are there not enough volunteers?”

“Virtually none. Most shells are unwilling to donate samples.” 

“Of course. We’ve been test subjects our whole lives. It’s hard to trust that they wouldn’t just lock us away again.” 

He pursed his lips.

She lifted off the crate and sighed. “Well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

As she left the bay, the monitor beeped. He checked the reading. Heart rate 91bpm—higher than normal. He wondered if that was why he felt bizarrely nervous.

———

“Doctor, could I borrow your port? The overseer wants the antidote clearance code and Thorne took my port to comm Scarlet.”

“Of course, Cress,” said Dimitri, unclipping it from his belt and handing it over. Usually their job was to deliver the antidote crates and let the local authorities administer it. But the breakout here was so severe that the victims were waiting by the ship. The line spanned half the block, people coughing, crying, some slumped on the ground in a heap. Carswell had given Wolf and Scarlet the day off to explore Miami, but with the unexpected workload, he was trying to hail them back.

Dimitri took four vials and approached a young sickly boy in the front of the line.

“Hello there. I have something for you.”

He held out the vial to the boy, but when he was too weak to grasp it, Dimitri placed the vial at his lips and coaxed it down. The boy began choking on the liquid. Though Dimitri tried to force him to swallow it, the boy shoved away from him.

“You need to drink all of it, son,” he advised.

The boy shook resistantly, whipping his head away each time Dimitri steered the vial back to him.

After several minutes of struggling, he sighed and discarded the vial. “I can only hope that was sufficient.”

He proceeded down the line over the next hour. Carswell and Cress unpacked the antidote and passed it to him as he went. Scarlet and Wolf reappeared by the end and helped with the final stragglers.

Finally, they boarded their ship, near ready to drop dead into sleep. Dimitri only managed to prop himself up in a chair before he felt his eyelids flutter shut.

“Doctor.”

He peeled his eyes open. Cress was standing in front of him. Her hands were locked around his port.

“Ah, thank you,” he murmured, reaching a hand out to retrieve it.

Her expression was enigmatic but eclipsed with iciness. “What is this?”

She flicked on the screen and showed it to him. Once his eyes adjusted to the glare of the light, he read the title and paused.

“Well?”

“It’s, um”—he coughed—“it’s my findings in the project her Majesty requested me to research.”

“I read it.”

His face darkened. “It wasn’t yours to read.”

“I thought there were no secrets between us,” she said coldly.

She snatched the port back to herself, scrolling up and reading aloud a phrase, “I advise that the only means possible of maintaining a sufficient antidote supply is to legally enforce the retrieval of samples from ungifted Lunars, irrespective of their personal feelings and consent.”

Her voice spoke the words with a greater vitriol than he’d ever heard from her.

“Yes—well—”

“You want to steal their blood? Force them to volunteer?”

Her glare was poison. His lungs twitched.

“Crescent, I understand the ethical ambiguity—”

“Ambiguity? What’s not clear?” She thrust the port towards him. “That was perfectly clear to me. You just want to use us shells as lab rats.”

Dimitri pushed back into the chair. “Crescent. I can appreciate your apprehension. But they are mere children. They do not comprehend the gravity of the matter. Millions could die if we do not obtain enough antidote.”

“They were stolen from their families! Forced into suspension tanks. They had their whole lives stolen from them! And you think they’re being unreasonable?”

His breath hitched. “...Their momentary discomfort is an unfortunate sacrifice to made for the greater good.”

She scoffed, dropping the port in his lap. “Of course you’d see it that way. Taking the Lunar boys and turning them into soldiers. Killing cyborgs so you could find your princess. Did you ever think of their feelings?”

“I have hated every sacrifice I have had to make, but in the long term—”

“What about me?” Her eyes were glassy, her voice frantic. “Should I expect a comm saying I’m being shipped back to Luna next week to be harvested too?”

“No, of course not, you—”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Oh, I get an exemption because you care about me, unlike the other shells?”

“Cress, I—”

“I told you how I felt about this,” she said, voice quivering. “You say you care about me but you don’t.”

He shot up. “Crescent, you know I care about you.”

She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. “No. I thought you were better than this. But you’re still the same thief from Farafrah that bought me like I was livestock.”

Before his trembling lips could form a reply, she left.

Dimitri’s heart was tearing out of his ribcage, threatening to burst through his skin. Every sneer, every accusation replayed in his wretched mind on an endless loop. Still, his own indignation eclipsed the feeling.

He hated how he had made his daughter feel. And yet his mind was still not swayed. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to revise his assessment, yet he sent it to Cinder immediately. 

If he had learnt anything in his lifetime, it was that sacrifices had to be made.

Cinder sent back a response mere minutes later. No, I’m not going to force shells to donate their samples against their will. Are you crazy?!

———

It had been tolerable when the Rampion Crew ignored him. Now they avoided him and it was excruciating.

Cress had obviously told them of their argument, and it was clear whose side they were on. Wolf, who never spoke to Dimitri anyway, maintained his silence. Scarlet cast him severe looks. Carswell was the only one still to speak to him, but always curtly. Worse, he seemed disappointed in him.

And then there was Cress. Each time they crossed paths hurt and resentment flashed in her eyes.

It was beginning to dawn on him how gravely he had misstepped. The chasm Carswell had mentioned had split down the middle, torn apart by tectonic plates so deep that any hope of salvaging their relationship was burnt in the fire of Earth’s core.

Cinder imposed upon him the responsibility of finding an acceptable solution to the antidote crisis. His mind was so swarmed with the ramifications of his own crisis that nothing fruitful had been produced.

The ship landed in Des Moines, Iowa between antidote runs. The young ones were going to a shopping mall, intending for a ‘double date’—as they called it. Dimitri had the misfortune of requiring a new processing unit for his genetic testing module, and the only outlet with such supplies nearby was in that very same mall.

He practically melted into the seat of the hover as they pointedly ignored his presence.

Once inside the mall, they split ways. He overheard Scarlet saying something about attempting to find clothes to fit Wolf’s oversized chest and Cress instructing Carswell to go obtain snacks for the cinema.

Dimitri huffed as he followed the trail on his portscreen to the medical supplies outlet. If they were planning to watch a film it would be several hours before they intended to leave. Perhaps he could hail a hover to return him to the Rampion.

The part took no time to secure and purchase. He was already on his way to the entrance when suddenly Cress flew out of a store, her back to him.

He slowed dramatically, unwilling to overtake her and be noticed. She stalled in the middle of the busy walkway as Carswell approached her.

“Ready?” he asked, chewing through a mouthful. He didn’t notice Dimitri either.

“Yep,” she replied excitedly. “Scarlet said they would meet us out front in a few minutes. Whatcha eating?”

“Skittles,” he answered, poking out his multicoloured tongue.

She gasped. “Oh! I’ve always seen those in netdramas! Can I try some?”

He produced the bag from his pocket. She took it and glanced inside. Offence covered her face. “You barely left me any.”

He shrugged insouciantly. “No, I left the right amount.”

“What?”

He smirked. “Well you’re about a third of my size, so proportionately you would therefore be entitled to a third of what I ate.”

Indignation flared on her face. “What on Luna are you talking about?”

He braced his hands. “Hey, calm down, I’m just looking out for you—all that sugar isn’t good for your health, you know.”

Dimitri felt his own rage rise up to his temples. How dare he speak so crudely to Cress? To insult her so crassly? Oh, he’d always known that Carswell boy was a cad. He would break between the two of them and lambast the scoundrel until—

Carswell laughed heartily. “I’m messing with you, babe. Here—” He presented a second bag from his pocket. “This one’s yours.”

Dimitri’s hackles fell, adrenaline suddenly quashed.

Cress gaped at him. Then, regaining her senses, she smacked him on the arm. “Carswell!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he choked. “But you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

She rolled her eyes, but the ire had faded. “Well, you’re not getting any of this.”

“Of course not. It’s yours. Along with these.” He opened a shopping bag that was hanging from his belt, pulling out a bottled drink, a tray of doughnuts and a chocolate bar.

Cress blushed. “I’m not going to eat all of that.”

Carswell flicked her nose, slung an arm around her shoulders and led them forward. Dimitri, cemented in place, heard his fading, “Well maybe I was onto something with those portions, huh?” 

———

The next weeks were the most he’d every worked in his life. He poured every waking moment into his research, to writing and estimating and testing. With each antidote run he spent hours documenting the reactions of each patient, compiling as much data as possible into his arsenal.

Once he deemed it acceptable, he sent his new proposal to Cinder. It was underdeveloped to be sure, but he couldn’t face Cress until he’d done it.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, inhaling a breath of anxiety, he entered the cockpit bay.

She was sitting on a chair by the window, hand cupping her chin as she gazed off into the endless sea of blackness and stars. Hearing him enter, her gaze flickered towards him, and that perpetual hardness returned in full.

“May I speak to you?” he asked softly.

A beat. She nodded.

He approached her cautiously, unable to maintain eye contact. He looked at his feet. “I want to apologise to you.”

She stayed silent.

“Crescent, I know that what I did was incredibly wrong. I destroyed the faith you had in me. In truth, you never should have had that faith to begin with.” Inhale, exhale. “I have never done anything to repent for my sins of the past. I thought I was better now. I fear that I am worse. I’m so truly sorry.”

She folded her hands in her lap, face stricken.

“I do not expect you to forgive me,” he continued, “but I hope I can at least make you believe that I recognise my need to change.”

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “Maybe you’ll change once your law is passed and I get shipped back to Luna to be their blood supplier.

“There’s no law,” he rushed to say, “No shells will be forced to donate. It was wrong of me to ever consider that. I have submitted a different proposal; actually, it was inspired by your boyfriend.”

She quirked an eyebrow.

Over the past weeks, Dimitri had begun experimenting with apportioning the antidote to victims based on their age, height, gender and weight. His test groups proved that children and teenagers needed less of the antidote than adults to make a full recovery; women needed less than men; those who weighed more and were taller needed the full dose. Once he had enough evidence, he readjusted the metrics for each group and applied this to the number of remaining antidote vials. Instantly, their supply would last three months longer than initially projected.

Cress watched him carefully as he explained this. Eventually, she said, “That makes sense.”

He clutched his hands together behind his back. “I know it cannot make amends for what I did to you—”

“It’s a start,” she interrupted, sounding genuine.

Exhale. “I know I have acted wrongly my whole life. Truthfully Cress, I don’t quite understand the parameters of right and wrong. But—if you’re willing to again accept my company—would you please teach me?”

Her eyes returned to the window. Earth was edging into the corner of the glass, filling up the room with its swimming blue brightness.

“Okay. But you have to promise me something.”

A former Dimitri—the doctor, the mentor, the wise man—would have hesitated, but he was now a student. He would be teachable.

“Anything.”

Glimmers of a smile, the first directed to him in so long, crept up to her lips. “Promise to stop viewing me as the baby you lost sixteen years ago, and start viewing me as a person.”

Inhale. “I will.”

———

It took time for their interactions to evolve from nonexistent to tense, from manageable to cordial. The more and more Dimitri learnt about Cress, the more he mourned not knowing. He mourned not having the opportunity to raise her, to hold her hand as she walked for the first time, to drop her off and pick her up from school every day. But Cress had made him promise not to dwell on that. So for the first time, he took her in as the person she’d become.

Without his or anybody’s help, Crescent had raised herself to be a remarkable young woman.

Every new thing he learnt about her was greater than any scientific discovery he could have made. She was a genius, which was no surprise given her pedigree. But she had taught herself everything. To read. To write. To hack. She was an optimist and a daydreamer. She was a loyal friend. She had her share of weaknesses too, but they were only those common to mankind.

When he stumbled upon her in the galley, he learnt that she could sing.

No, not sing. Her voice soared, sweet as honeysuckle and clear as a trickling fountain. His little songbird.

She was standing by the bench, assembling a sandwich—to her an ordinarily mundane task. To him, it was a moment of reverence.

The words slipped out unprompted. “Your voice is beautiful.” 

Cress peered over her shoulder, and for once, she didn’t seem startled to see him. “Thank you.” And then, after a pause, “Did I get that from you?”

He barked out a laugh. “Certainly not.” Then his memory stirred. “But my sister had a voice like yours. She’s still alive. She has children—your cousins—and some of them have children around your age. I could…I could take you to meet them all one day if you’d like.”

Her smile was beatific.

Being a student of Cress was more challenging than all his years of medical school. Stripping back years of his own thinking and reasoning on matters was more than difficult—near impossible. He resented the thought he harboured deep inside that he could never change. But even worse was the niggling sentiment lurking in his chest, asserting that he was older, wiser and shouldn’t listen to a mere child.

With the unofficial ban on associating with him lifted, the crew tentatively reintroduced him to their activities. He regained trust to the point that when he assured them that he could handle a small antidote delivery on his own, they believed him and jetted off in the podships to the mountains for the weekend. 

The outbreak in Seattle was the worst he’d ever seen. Where in most places the line of victims was able to stand, these victims were all sprawled on the floor, shivering and drooling, with more blisters than actual skin.

“Why haven’t they been brought the antidote sooner?” Dimitri asked the overseer, aghast.

“We had been promised the leftovers from the outbreak in Tacoma. Then they had a surprise wave and used up all their supply. That’s when we called on you.”

Dimitri administered the antidote to as many people as he could, the rest distributed by the Seattle team. It was gratifying to see the light returning in the eyes of the victims. It was not enough to shake the sense of failure when two men—one in his thirties, one elderly—didn’t make it.

With a grim nod to the overseer, he stepped into a hover and programmed the address of the Rampion to the guiding system.

He checked his portscreen. Cress had sent him a photo of the four of them overlooking a sheer cliff.  They were all smiling, sweaty with exertion.

Half an hour into his trip, his port pinged with a comm from the Seattle overseer.

We’ve had 40 more Letumosis victims brought to the quarantines. Can you come back with additional antidote?

Dimitri reread the comm at least five times.

He was due in Portland in only a few hours time for a large delivery. The number of victims there was reported to have risen exponentially in only the last two days alone. But that was only this morning’s estimate. He had approximately 300 vials of antidote left. The victims there had been sicker for longer than these forty new cases. There wasn’t enough time for both.

His initial reply halted on his fingertips as the image of the light leaving the eyes of those two, withered men flashed across his vision.

Dimitri set up a voice comm to Cress. It bounced back. This portscreen is currently out of range.

He didn’t know how to trust his judgement anymore. But right now, he had no one else but himself.

He commanded the hover to stop. He thought and thought and thought for a good fifteen minutes. Then he sent his comm and directed the hover to his destination.

———

He met the others back at the ship. They returned glowing red and panting but exhilarated.

“It was amazing,” Scarlet sighed. “I wish we could’ve stayed for longer.”

“Not when we got a delivery in an hour,” Carswell said with an affected responsibility in his voice. “Unless we teach the doctor to fly and get him to do all the runs for us.”

Wolf was the only one who seemed impervious to the exhaustion of the hike. He read Dimitri’s face with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Cress, flanking Carswell and sipping from a water bottle, glanced at him curiously.

Dimitri rubbed his brow. “After I left Seattle, they commed saying additional victims had arrived and needed the antidote. I did not believe that we would have enough for them as well as for our upcoming delivery.”

“What did you do?” Cress asked quietly.

Dimitri took a seat, shrinking down. Voicing aloud his decision was nearly as hard as it had been to make it. “I…I knew we would need the antidote for Portland. We already have limited supply and we have no idea what state they’re in. So I—I rejected their request.”

“So what?” Scarlet accused, “You’re going to leave them until we get more antidote in a month’s time and those people are already dead?”

“I sent another supplier a comm requesting assistance. They promised to travel there by Monday.”

Scarlet softened. “Oh.”

“I can only hope the supplies make it there soon. They already had two people die this morning.”

Carswell shook his head, frustrated with himself. “We should’ve stayed and helped you.”

“No,” he dismissed, “there was already no hope for them.”

The silence in the bay was dense and heavy on his shoulders. The corpses still felt fresh on his fingertips. “I know it may not have been right. I tried to contact you, but I couldn’t. I had to make a decision.”

The others nodded assent and soon all were preparing for takeoff, the happy morning coloured sombre. Dimitri felt responsible for it.

And then as the ship was rising shakily into the air he felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw Cress standing behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. She was here to tell him what she would have done in this scenario, he guessed. Flashes of their previous argument clung to him; her anger, her disappointment. To have disappointed her again was a blow worse than insanity. 

But instead, she spoke, voice even and clear, “No. You made the right decision.”

———

Cinder commed him occasionally, asking him for advice and updating him on the gradual improvements to Luna. One day, she sent him a different comm.

He had a new assignment—to study the wolfen soldiers he himself had created and see if he could reverse the transformation.

It was optimistic at best, completely impossible in all probability. But he knew that he must dedicate the rest of his life to atoning for this sin.

It also meant that his tenure on the Rampion would soon expire. Being separated from Cress was a bitter taste on his tongue. So he prolonged his stay, asking Mr Kesley if he would be a temporary participant in his research. Wolf was initially hesitant but—eager to be fully human again—he agreed.

Months of research and experiments proved fruitless. Dimitri kept trying.

He pulled out his port again, thumbing it adamantly as the screen flickered and protested. He harrumphed. Setting it down on the table, he took a moment to stretch out his complaining limbs with a groan. It was late in the afternoon, though time was tricky when a glance out the window illuminated the perpetual blackness of space.

“Are you okay?”

Cress hovered by the doorway, her hands tucked behind her back.

“I’m all right,” Dimitri replied. “Just old.”

His port chimed. He picked it up, hoping for success, but it was merely a ping for a software update. He grumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong with your port?”

“I’m trying to transfer some of my notes from old files on Luna to my current files. I believe there’s a compatibility issue, given the original files are at least thirteen years old.”

Cress tossed from one foot to another. “I could help you, if you’d like.”

“Please.”

Cress came over and hooked up her port to his, running through the analytics as the system diagnosed the problem. When the file name Human-Lupine Mutation Trial #11 appeared on her screen, she hesitated.

“Do you really think you can fix them?”

Dimitri gazed at his feet. “I don’t know. But I will keep trying. I did this to them. I must try to undo it.”

She was silent for a beat, then in a low voice: “I’m glad you’re trying.”

Her port pinged as it completed its diagnosis and she got to work. It was amazing watching her fingers work, only just able to keep up with her mind. Her face was brilliantly scrunched in concentration.

“Okay,” she chirped, detaching the plug. “It will take a while for the files to load onto your port, but now at least they will won’t fry your RAM.

He took the port as she offered it back, eyes widening as he saw the notification on the screen. Override disabled from user: Crescent Darnel.

“Darnel?” he voiced softly.

She tucked hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I, uh, updated my records. I never knew my last name. I quite like it, actually.”

“Crescent Moon Darnel.”

Cress smiled. “Crescent Moon Darnel,” she repeated.

She looked at her own port, frowned, and showed it to him. Red text on the screen read: Connection disabled from user: Sage Darnel.

“Why don’t you use your name?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, we all just call you Doctor. But Cinder calls you Dr. Erland. That was your fake name, wasn’t it?” She listed her head. “Wouldn’t you prefer to be called…Sage?”

He took off his glasses and rubbed them on the end of his shirt. “Wouldn’t your wolfen friend prefer to be called Ze’ev rather than Wolf?”

She chewed her lip.

He switched off his port. “To be honest, Cress, I don’t think I am Sage Darnel anymore. Or Dimitri Erland. I am somewhat of an amalgamation.”

Cress thought this over. “Can I call you Sage?”

“If you want to.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I do. After all, we should share a last name, right?”

Sage felt a flicker in his chest, growing warmer by the second. “Yes, yes we should.”

———

Sage ambled down the Rampion’s hallway, idly browsing through the data on his portscreen. The report came from the Health Board of Minnesota—where they had delivered the antidote last month. The distribution of the antidote had put a significant dent in the fatality rate, but the disease was still spreading prolifically. We would greatly appreciate your expert opinion, wrote the chairperson. 

The options were limited. A statewide lockdown—the logical solution, but an economic reluctance. Or to immunise the greater population—presently infeasible with the limited supply. It would be months more before such a solution could be implemented, and the question remained: could they justify the continued loss of life?

New York had already completed a lockdown period, whereas Virginia had trialled immunisation in a small pocket of the state. Sage would have to compare the data before drafting his response. He headed to the cockpit bay. As they had been in transit between Earth and Luna, the connection had been too tenuous to send directly to his port. He would have to connect his port to the Rampion's mainframe to establish the link.

The ship was quiet. Mr Kesley and Miss Benoit were watching a net drama and last he’d heard, his daughter and the captain were doing a stocktake of the shipping containers. Sage found the door to the cockpit already open and the lights off. He crossed the threshold, switching his port off and glancing up.

His feet solidified beneath him. Carswell was in the pilot’s seat with Cress tucked into his lap, his arms around her waist as the two engaged in a languid kiss. Sage held his breath, very aware that he should leave immediately and in a way that he would not be detected. The couple seemed sufficiently distracted. 

Sage stepped back. They continued to kiss. Another step. His shoe squeaked against the floor.

The couple tore apart from each other, gaping at the figure at the door.

“Uh, sorry there kids.”

Cress sprung away from Carswell. “Dad!” she shrieked. “Uh—Sage! I—we…”

Cress was positively red. Carswell was blushing a little too, but he mostly just looked amused.

Sage nodded at them and backtracked further. “I'll leave you be.”

He hastened down the hallway, allowing a cringe to cover his face. Cress’s embarrassed groans followed him, along with Carswell’s booming laughter. 

Sage couldn’t help a smile. Not at the antics of the young couple—he had only just begun to tolerate his daughter’s relationship with the ex-convict, and interrupting them mid-makeout was really testing that boundary.

He didn’t care about that. Let his daughter be giddy and romantic all she wanted. He cared more about what she had called him unintentionally, a slip of her inner thoughts.

Dad.

———

Sage returned to Luna after eight months onboard. Part of him was devastated at the thought of again being separated from his little girl, but he knew that she needed to grow on her own. On her own—with her boyfriend.

Scarlet and Wolf had already returned to their farm last week. Sage needed to return to Luna to support his queen and fulfil his assignment.

His return to Luna was also planned as an opportunity for an antidote restock, so his farewell was not overstated. They hauled the shipments onboard, shared laughs and lunch with Her Majesty, and then filed into the docking bay. 

Cinder released Cress from a hug. “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?”

Cress squeezed her hands. “I wish. The captain is a hard taskmaster.”

Carswell nodded proudly. “Yep. This shipment is due in 16 hours. No time for dilly-dallying.”

Cinder rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug. “When did you get so responsible?”

“Cress keeps me in line.”

The three turned to Sage. Carswell approached him first. “All the best, doctor.”

Sage extended his hand. “Captain.”

They shook firmly. Sage buried his desire to warn Carswell about his conduct around Crescent. Carswell would treat her well. Sage trusted him in that.

When Carswell stepped back to Cress’s side, she tapped his arm and leaned up on her toes. He craned his neck towards her. Sage read “Give me a minute with him,” on her lips.

Carswell gave him a final nod, Cinder a wink and a playful jab to the side and sauntered up the Rampion’s dock, whistling as he went. 

Cress said nothing, eyes darting down at her feet. In his peripheral vision he saw Cinder discreetly stepping away.

Sage cleared his throat. “Take care, Cress. Stay safe.”

“You too.” She stepped forward. “Will you visit us? When we come back to pick up the antidote?”

He smiled. “Of course. I already look forward to it. I will…I will miss you greatly.”

It was the kind of statement Sage had avoided making, never wanting to pressure her or set a sense of obligation. But Cress nodded.

“I—I’ll miss you too.” She finally looked up at him, something of shame in her eyes.

“I wanted to apologise before we go. For being…hesitant. For treating you like a stranger instead of…instead of my father.”

Sage shook his head quickly. “No, Crescent, you didn’t know me. I can’t ever fault you for being distant. If anything, it’s my fault.” He shuddered. “I should have fought Sybil. I should have escaped to Earth with you the moment I discovered you were a shell.”

“I don’t think it would be that easy,” she replied, and he sighed, knowing she was right.

“But please, Cress, you are my daughter. I love you. But I will never, ever expect you to reciprocate that. All I ask”—his breath hitched—“is that we could be friends.”

Cress sniffled, eyes glistening. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, causing him to stumble off balance. “We are friends,” she whispered. “And I would like to be your daughter one day. I’d like you to be my dad one day.”

Tears sprung to his eyes. He chuckled shakily. “Thank you, my girl. Thank you.”

They separated with shared feelings and matching smiles. Because she had inherited it from him, he realised. 

Carswell slung an arm around her shoulders when she reached him on the ramp. They waved until the hatch folded up.

Cinder came up behind Sage and rested her metal hand on his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Doctor. And I’m happy Cress has you.”

“I am too, Miss Linh.”

The Rampion roared to life and stumbled out of the dock under the Captain’s unsteady hand. Sage’s heart clenched, already aching to be away from Cress. They watched until the Rampion was no more than a distant star in the infinite black sky and the aching was supplanted with relief.

His songbird had been freed and no one could ever trap her again.

Notes

Was anyone asking for a Dr Erland fic? Not a soul. But a writer cannot deny the howls of a tale unsung.

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @bakergirl13 @wassupnye @linh-cindy @therealkaidertrash21

[allwormdiet]

Parasite 10.1

Welcome back Taylor, missed you, glad we come back to immediately find you waist-deep in moral sketchiness.

Never let it be said that Wildbow doesn't know how to establish a scene. You can feel the desperation and despair in the mounting heat and filth of the city streets, and of course Taylor's power means she can clock that better than a lot of other parahumans.

There's something very sad about the fact that Angelica is the last dog standing from the original three, and that even then she's still fucked up from the damage Fog did.

And of course Rachel probably puts a lot of blame for that on having saved Taylor's scrawny ass at the cost of Brutus and Judas, plus the other six dogs. Even if she would've made that attack on Leviathan without Taylor there, I'd be shocked if that association wasn't there.

I swear to god the official word for this liveblog is "bleak," but I'll stop calling things bleak when they stop being bleak, how about that.

Siblings!

Yeah, what I said earlier.

The fact that Shadow Stalker actually seems to respect the Undersiders more for being hardcore as fuck is. A little funny. Like okay, I guess her worldview has some consistency.

Also yeah, gotta be weird to realize you were going to school with a murderous vigilante. Can only imagine how Winslow students would feel about realizing Taylor was goddamn Skitter.

I'll admit it, this feels bad. Sophia deserves comeuppance for being a violent murderer but what she's about to be put through is beyond the pale. Genuinely one of the most fucked up things that has happened in this story so far.

But we'll get to that later.

Siblings!

Tattletale managing to be the peacemaker for once, which is a little funny.

Grue being exasperated by Imp is funny, but then it gets sad again when he looks over at Skitter because. Yeah. They'd actually gotten along okay for the most part, until the kiss and the Nazi attack, and then Armsmaster tried to ruin the relationship further and mostly succeeded.

The fascinating thing with Taylor is that she's also pretty uncomfortable with the moral lines she's crossing and how fast she's crossing them, it's just that she's really good at not letting that discomfort slow her down.

Quick overview of the Undersiders' current states, courtesy of Taylor's goddamn panopticon abilities. Also: puppies!

This was scary as fuck on the first read-through, and this time it's more... I think Alec has a bad sense of humor. Again, raised in a cult, so it's hard to know what's appropriate for comedy and what's, uhh, using your bodyjacking victim to falsely threaten the life of a teammate, but still.

Freaky as hell.

Current Thoughts

Regent's "secret weapon" turns out to be the scariest goddamn power of any Undersider, so that's. Something.

The group's tension with Taylor is palpable, even if it's just Brian and Rachel who seem to be feeling it with any heat. I dunno if Alec is one to forgive things easily (doubtful) or if he's enough of a pragmatist to let Taylor back in with relatively little complaint. Maybe it's a mild thing compared to the trust and loyalty he's used to with Heartbreaker's kids. I'll be curious to see whether Brian or Rachel relent first, because I think it could go either way.

Hoo boy. This arc. Thiiiis arc. I can't believe I'm feeling bad for Sophia goddamn Hess, but we've found a way to do it.

[anime-fan93]

Hello! I’m here for an Encanto matchup please! Thank you so much for doing this by the way!

First things first, I’m an adult so I can’t be shipped with any minors, so no Camilo or Mirabel please. I’m also bisexual, so I don’t mind whether you ship me with a man or a woman. And by the way, I also have autism and stim by pacing if that means anything.

Physically I’m a really short adult, I’m only like 5’ tall (152 cm) because I have multiple disabilities, one of which stunted my growth. I have chronic pain basically everywhere but especially in my joints like my hands, hips, back and knees. Just today I’m wearing arthritis gloves, knee braces, compression socks and a scoliosis brace so I kinda look ready to be hospitalized lol. I also faint a lot because of blood pressure issues, and I have asthma and weak bones too. Medically I’m kind of a mess. Anyways, I also have really long wavy (and fluffy) brown hair, glasses and pale skin with lots of moles and freckles. I’m surprisingly muscular but still really slim. My style also switches between masculine and feminine a lot, and I even tend to combine the two. Today I’m wearing a long ankle-length skirt and also a biker’s cut denim jacket on top with a black t-shirt.

I have a bunch of little nervous habits like knocking on wood to prevent jinxes (like Bruno!), biting my lip when I’m nervous, pacing and flapping my hands, making little noises and humming to myself (kinda like Dolores). I’m also learning Greek and Spanish as second languages! I talk with my hands a lot, and I tell crazy stories from my life. I can imagine Mirabel complaining about Isabela and then I’m just like “My siblings used to put me in a trash can and roll me down the stairs” lol. I would also definitely gift Dolores some headphones because I can get pretty loud without really noticing.

I work as a librarian currently, but I’m also learning screenwriting in hopes of actually working at Pixar someday! I write a ton, I have a journal that I’ve kept going for years now, and I’ve picked up a lot of different crafts like sewing and leatherworking.

I’m very polite and extremely friendly, including being really bubbly and excitable. I feel like, maybe aside from the denim jacket, I might be the kind of person even Abuela would like lmao. I shake people’s hands when greeting them and am generally very polite and a little nervous. But it’s easy for me to make people laugh because I have a witty and sarcastic sense of humor, especially combined with my weird life stories. I’m really soft and surprisingly good at giving advice, I’ve often been called “wise beyond my years”. Unfortunately I can be really stubborn and am not quick to forgive, but that’s something I’m trying to work on. I also have a habit of always trying to stay busy and I don’t really know what self care is sometimes, oops.

But yeah, I think that's about it! Sorry if this was too long, I got excited haha. I look forward to seeing who you'll ship me with! Take care of yourself and drink lots of water, bye!

Thank you for requesting!

I match you with...

Pepa!

Even before you two started to date, you would always keep the sun shining and bright when you were around her! Your loudness and energy while talking would match her's, and she would always help massage the areas that were hurting you.

She would talk to you and do fun activities with you while you're nervous to distract you, and would be your No. 1 supporter. She would always stand slightly behind you and would be quick to catch and care for you if you fainted.

She would definitely understand you not being quick to forgive, but would know just how to handle your stubborn moments. She would also help you learn Spanish by having conversations with you in the language to help you become more fluent, and would try to learn Greek with you, the skies becoming more cloudy as she gets frustrated.

She would love your style, and would always adore when you talk with your hand, and would even pick up some of your gestures from being around you and thinking of you so much. Overall, she would absolutely love you!

I hope you enjoyed!

[illyanapryde]

Just me talking about how much I hate the MCU and how it’s ruining the comics because bla bla bla capitalism

One very major flaw of recent comics (I’m talking about the last decade-ish) is that, in hopes to benefit from the financial success of the MCU, comics began to change the personalities, looks, backstories, costumes, and aesthetics of their characters to match their MCU counterparts.

Before an MCU fan spouts some bullshit like “Well it shouldn’t matter because it’s still the same character and if you’re a true fan you should love them anyway,” I simply can’t help but struggle to enjoy seeing everything special about my favorite characters be retconned. It’s one thing when the MCU adapts my favorite characters and changes them beyond recognition, but at least I can live with that because I can simply not watch MCU content. It’s another thing when the MCU’s same shitty changes are made in the comics, effectively ruining that character.

A prime example is the terrible jokes. Before 2008, comics would mostly have little to no humor. And if/when they did, it would usually be the focus of the story (Deadpool’s entire character for example). But following the release of Iron Man, comics began to change to mimic MCU!Tony Stark’s silly little one liners that somehow gave Marvel Studios a blockbuster hit. What I’m about to say is just personal opinion, but I honest to god hate the “comedy” in the MCU. A couple movies pull it off by making it the focus of the movie (Thor: Ragnarok and Ant-Man 1+2), but for the most part, the inconsistent dry humor is awkward and boring. I didn’t realize this until The Batman, a movie that consistently maintains its dark aesthetic, came out and my mind was blowed by the cinematography. My best friend @gothictoxicc pointed out to me that that movie was so good because it didn’t ruin every dramatic scene with a dry joke that ruins the vibe. Anyways, I fucking hate that I can’t read a new Avengers comic without finding several random jokes that ruin the seriousness of the situation at hand.

Another example of an MCU fuckup that dripped into the comics is Wanda Maximoff. Oftentimes when a character is adapted to the MCU, their 616 version is subsequently drawn to look exactly like their MCU actor, despite that character clearly looking very differently for decades prior. Now if you’re an MCU fan you may be wondering why this is so frustrating for a comic fan, and I’ll tell you. It’s because of whitewashing and lightwashing. Wanda’s been around since the 1960’s and often has a distinct look (kinky/curly hair that’s either auburn or brown depending on the illustrator, and sometimes other ethnic features such as a hooked nose, tan skin, and dark eyes) yet once Elizabeth Olsen was cast in the role, Wanda began to be drawn like this in the comics. The erasure of Wanda’s ethnic features for the sake of pale skin, straight hair, and green eyes matters because Wanda is Romani. However now, her whitewashing is more easily excusable by MCU fans because “she looks white in the comics anyway.”

Side note for paragraph above: The same thing has happened with many other characters such as Natasha Romanoff, and although it’s not necessarily bigoted in any way to draw Nat like Scarlett Johansson in the comics, it does make me want to cry every time I see it.

While we’re on the subject of things that make me want to cry, let’s talk about Clint Barton. In the comics, he’s rocked a lot of funky (honestly the best adjective for them) and colorful costumes that make him stand out and look easily identifiable in comics. However, since the MCU is goddamn boring, they put Jeremy Renner in all black and called it a day. Following that, 616!Clint started dressing like a boring loser. I personally can never forgive the MCU for stripping Clint of his camp (I’ve never used that word but it feels right) outfits.

MCU influence changing the comics: Honorable mentions:

- The entire GoTG team being changed to fit their MCU counterparts in both looks and personalities. I’m talking Gamora, Peter Quill, Nebula, Groot, etc. Literally all of them.

- A younger Black Nick Fury was introduced to the comics following Samuel L. Jackson’s popularity in the MCU (which I have no problem with because who doesn’t love Samuel L. Jackson)

- Loki is now portrayed as morally grey rather than an evil little slut

- Magneto and the Maximoff twins suffered that atrocious retcon where they were revealed not to be Magneto’s children, nor to be mutants at all. This happened as a result of the dispute between Fox (daddy company of the x-men movies) and Marvel Studios over rights to the Maximoff twins, whose terms were unclear because Fox claimed rights to mutant characters while Marvel Studios claimed rights to Avengers characters, and the Maximoff twins were both. To simplify things, the twins had their origins changed in the comics so Fox wouldn’t be able to claim them. Ultimately, the two companies agreed that Marvel Studios could include both twins but had to kill one off, and Fox could include the twin that would be killed off.

[esther-dot]

I've been in a lot of different fandoms over the years, and what I have noticed is that there will always be that one character that a huge majority of the fandom hate to the point that they'd go to blogs that actually like said characters and harass them for it. They'd also flood tags of said character with how much they hate then when the anti tag works perfectly well for that purpose.

And it's always the female characters that get this kind of fandom treatment. The men could be doing massacres and other atrocities and the entire fandom would call them misunderstood cinnamonrolls.

It's weird. It's toxic. I just don't get it.

I haven't been involved in another fandom, but that's certainly true for the ASOIAF and GoT fandoms, and it is so weird. I don’t know what to make of it.

I seems like people have an instinctive, sympathetic response to pain, and since many villains have painful backstories, it makes sense we're drawn to them as characters, even if they do horrible things. That's certainly the case for Tyrion, the Hound, etc and in contrast, the initial introduction to Sansa is that she is beautiful, perfect at everything she does, and will have everything good that life has to offer, so people have no immediate "this poor thing" reaction. However, very quickly Sansa's life becomes hell—

This time the knight grasped her beneath the jaw and held her head still as he struck her. He hit her twice, left to right, and harder, right to left. Her lip split and blood ran down her chin, to mingle with the salt of her tears. (AGOT, Sansa VI)

"Thank you, ser." Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. When they told him that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, his rage had been a fearsome thing, and he had sent Ser Boros to beat her. (ACOK, Sansa I)

Ser Meryn Trant seized Dontos by the arm and flung him brusquely away. The red-faced fool went sprawling, broomstick, melon, and all. Ser Boros seized Sansa.

"Leave her face," Joffrey commanded. "I like her pretty."

Boros slammed a fist into Sansa's belly, driving the air out of her. When she doubled over, the knight grabbed her hair and drew his sword, and for one hideous instant she was certain he meant to open her throat. As he laid the flat of the blade across her thighs, she thought her legs might break from the force of the blow. Sansa screamed. Tears welled in her eyes. It will be over soon. She soon lost count of the blows. (ACOK, Sansa III)

—and she is threatened with rape, molested, forced to marry into the family that murdered hers, had to watch her father die…she suffers a lot, yet most of the fandom fails to sympathize with her, many believe she needs to atone for some prior sin, and some hardcore antis claim she is beyond redemption. So the sympathy people feel that makes them excuse problematic actions doesn’t extend to every character.

It may generally be fans judging male/female characters by different standards, but during and after s8 we saw this happen with Sansa and Dany too. People seemed to draw a moral equivalence between Sansa breaking her promise to Jon and Dany burning KL. Obviously that makes no sense, but someone suggested to me that the reason this was the case is that those great big evils are (for most fans) so removed from our daily lives that we don’t have the same “muscle memory” that we do to say, a girl picking on us which is why some fans may never forgive Sansa for making Arya’s life hell (she didn’t, but in their minds she did), but can overlook a man slaughtering a boy. I guess we just see this kind of thought process over and over:

I suppose another factor is that the people who are going to be involved in anything (fandom, politics, etc) are doing so because they really love something or really hate something, sometimes both (I adore Jonsa, hated Jxnerys). And on the internet vehemence gets attention so we feed into extreme views. So, rather than a problematic fav being treated with nuance, fans are rewarded for explaining away all those issues and acting like he is a cinnamon roll (“Dany was just a girl asking a boy to love her”) whereas the character they hate is painted in the worst light (“Sansa told Jon’s secret because she’s a power hungry bitch!”) and the fervor of love or hatred doesn’t allow the application of equal standards. The point is validation, rage clicks etc, not intellectual engagement.

We all have emotional reactions to things that transcend our criteria for good or bad, it’s just…I suppose it would be nice if we left it at “I don’t like that character” rather than formulating arguments why they’re responsible for other’s actions, or conversely say, “I know they’re evil, but evil has never looked so good,” rather than trying to act like there’s a moral good in mass murder. I like Cersei, clearly I enjoy evil characters too, but the way people genuinely convince themselves that atrocities can be committed for the greater good does worry me because I think some of that goes beyond fandom and moves into their real world thinking.

I’ll never understand the harassment and tagging stuff incorrectly to be offensive. If I don’t like the character or ship, why would I deliberately seek out ways to interact with their fans? Makes no sense!

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

For each member of the Cullens, what do you think it would take for them to realize the extent of how unhinged Edward is and what do you think they would do about it, if anything?

Well, we’re going dark places today, aren’t we?

Alice

Alice is already fully aware of what Edward is, she simply doesn’t care.

There are visions that Alice misses, Edward thinks Alice misses the vast majority of Biology due to being hyper focused on Jasper (and likely missed the school massacre that Edward was seriously planning) but there is a lot she doesn’t miss.

Every time Edward thinks about how great it’d be to smash Mike Newton’s head like a watermelon, every time he considers devouring Bella, every time he enters her room unannounced to stare at her while she sleeps unawares, the time Edward considers genocide of the Quileute Tribe because of Jake’s telling Bella a story he doesn’t even believe, Alice knows.

It changes nothing for her.

She roots for Edward and Bella’s relationship, not because she knows for a certainty it will work out, but because it might. And that slim might, where Bella Swan might survive and become Edward’s lover as well as her own Barbie is worth everything they put Bella through to get there.

Also damningly, Alice cares very little for how good Edward is for Bella just as she cares very little for Bella period. Bella is Alice’s excuse to party and a dress up toy, but Alice will cut contact with her to a) please Edward b) prove a point to Edward.

Worse, Alice will take Bella to Italy, a city where she knows Bella will be killed with a 90% chance upon entry, on the slim chance that they might prevent Edward’s suicide. Yes, she vaguely explains the risk Bella’s taking, but she doesn’t say it in clear terms nor does she waste much time arguing.

Edward is far more important to Alice than Bella.

What I’m getting at is, thanks to her gift, Alice is intimately aware of just what Edward is capable of. She doesn’t care. And yes, there’s something to be said that Edward, more often than not, does not act upon these futures and he shouldn’t be condemned for choices he does not make. However, he does make some of them, and Alice knows.

There’s nothing I think Edward could do to either inform her that she was gravely wrong in how she perceived him or drive her away. Alice would be disappointed he’s thrown the family into such disarray but most likely would try to steer him away from whatever choice would cause such a rift.

She would aid, abet, and enable him because that is what will keep the Cullens together. Which is something Alice very much wants.

Carlisle

Carlisle lives in a river in Egypt, the water is made of double think. There are strong hints that Carlisle’s family is not quite as gung ho or altruistic about the diet as he is. Instead of being appalled, Carlisle quietly lowers his standards, and gives enthusiastic applause when Edward does things like choose not to brutally murder the serial rapist who nearly raped Bella. This is big growth for Edward! He also takes measures like sending family members who have accidents to their victims funeral, in the hopes that something, maybe, might make them see humans as people worthy of life.

If you asked him though, he’d talk about how amazing his family and the Denali are for the diet, and how he’s so proud to be a part of this community that values human life. LOOK HOW MUCH THEY VALUE IT.

When it comes to Edward, I think Edward holds a special place in Carlisle’s heart. He was not only the first person he turned, but Edward left and came back, to Carlisle this signaled that he’d found meaning and purpose in preserving human life. More, Edward... is very good at hiding what he is and is desperate that Carlisle above all others never see it.

Rather than have a conscience, most of the time, what stops Edward from “you name horrific action” of the day is the thought of “What would Carlisle say?” 

My point being, from the outside, especially to Carlisle, Edward truly does look like a noble soul. There are... flags, but they’re easily ignored or written off as issues with Edward’s emotional maturity.

Where Carlisle starts getting concerned is with Bella. Edward leaves for Alaska, great, Carlisle’s proud he was able to make that decision and know his limits. ThEn EdWArd CoMeS BaCK.

Edward comes back, in a week, nothing has changed, and he refuses to leave. Carlisle talks to him, Edward’s thinking he’s better than Hamburger and he can’t let her win, what he actually says to Carlisle is something along the lines of “I can’t run from my fears” Carlisle does an upside down smiley face then says, “Yes, you can, please do” And Edward doesn’t.

Things with Edward and this girl get progressively weird, but Carlisle is very proud that Edward sees the value of human life and not murdering a girl for being nearly hit by a van (this is how low Carlisle’s standards have become), and then Alice goes, “Oh, by the way, Edward is in love with this girl!”

Carlisle just sits there, “Alright then” and quietly puts aside his dreams of moving to a town where Edward doesn’t eat Bella Swan.

But I’m getting off track, this isn’t about canon where Carlisle can explain Edward’s actions away as noble but extreme, emotionally immature, and misguided.

Eating Bella’s not enough. Carlisle will see this as a tragic accident, something he foresaw, but something he assumes will haunt Edward for eternity. And, as it will haunt Edward for eternity (though not for the reasons Carlisle assumes) there will be nothing to make Carlisle question Edward’s character. He was young and foolish to think his limits were endless, but this was a tragic accident.

And it’s something, that in canon, Carlisle is hoping won’t happen but expects with helplessness.

I think there are a number of things that could do it. Had Edward eaten Biology, had he decided to defy Volturi law by eating Saint Marcus’ Square, but staying closer to the realm of possibility...

Had Edward forcibly aborted Bella, murdering her and her child in the process, or else if Renesmee didn’t have her gift, and Edward murdered her after her birth (assuming Jake didn’t get to it first).

Those actions cannot be excused away nor cannot be seen as tragic accidents. They are premeditated and evil, and yes evil is a strong word, yet here we are. This is Carlisle staring in the face of madness.

And that’s what it will take.

If Edward cheats on Bella, then while Carlisle is sad and disappointed, affairs happen and passion fades. More, Edward and Bella married awfully young and barely knew each other, this perhaps isn’t surprising.

If Edward eats a human Bella on the day she’s supposed to be turned, in very suspicious circumstances right at the last minute. Carlisle will know, deep down, but never allow himself to believe it. He’ll think Edward is utterly devestated and had let his guard down on that last day in anticipation of Bella’s turning.

This though, there’s no denying this.

I don’t believe Carlisle can kill Edward. Murder is not in his nature, and more, Edward is so dear to him. And now that this has happened, Carlisle would blame himself in part because surely, the human Edward Masen would never have become this. 

He’d likely reach out to Aro. Eclipse has happened, but not Breaking Dawn, and more everything is in question. He has to know the truth from a man who has seen Edward’s very soul. He goes in person, likely tells Edward his plans, and Edward rages but that doesn’t stop Carlisle.

Rosalie (more on her below) would never forgive Edward, ever, she is done. She and Emmett likely go with Carlisle to Volterra to hear the truth of what Edward is. Esme stays behind with Edward, torn in half, but unable to leave his side in this time of crisis. With that, her and Carlisle’s marriage completely dissolves on the spot. Alice stays with Edward as well, which means Jasper does to, though this likely starts the gears in head and he begins to contemplate leaving his wife. Though I imagine he won’t act for some time.

By the time Emmett, Rosalie, and Carlisle reach Volterra the coven is broken.

If Bella survived, if Edward murdered Renesmee while she was out of commission for three days, then I imagine she too goes to Volterra. Not for truth, but so that Aro can murder her, because there’s no point in living anymore.

Emmett

It would have to be beyond the pale extreme because Emmett gets more hints than most of the family (i.e. Carlisle and Rosalie).

Edward doesn’t really confide in Emmett, per se, but he does say some pretty damning things on their hunting trip in New Moon and give off varying vibes of crazy. Rather than realize that Edward, perhaps, is dangerous, Emmett only gets the feeling that Edward might not be alright in the head. Mostly, Emmett doesn’t want to think about it.

So he gets to listen to Edward raving about how Bella could be crushed by a meteor, wondering why Edward even cares when two days ago he didn’t give a flying fuck about this rando tasty human.

To Emmett, Edward has been laughing madly to himself for days, is now a  paranoid wreck, and is starting to creep him out but... Maybe if he ignores it, Edward will go back to normal?

Not helping is that Emmett doesn’t care about human life. He’s constantly telling Edward to treat himself and eat Bella, in a manner that suggests he vicariously wants to live through the delicious experience (as well as get Edward to calm down). 

If Edward eats Bella, Emmett will slap him on the back and say “Good job, bro!” If Edward eats Bella after the whole “love” thing, well, that’s weird, but, uh, “Sorry, bro?” If Edward murders all of Biology...

Then Emmet might do a double take and think, you know, maybe something’s not right with Edward.

I think he’d suggest he and Rose take a very long vacation and wait for things to calm down. Hoping that, if he ignores this, it will go away and Edward will return to a... saneish person.

What Rose thinks is a different story.

Esme

There is nothing on this planet that could tear Esme away from Edward. Esme’s purpose in life, the thing that gives her joy each morning and each night, is her family which you can condense down to Edward: the best and brightest of all of us.

We see it in canon.

The day after Edward decides he’s in love he acts like a lunatic. The car smells like Bella, as he kidnapped her for a ride home (Bella did not realize she had, in fact, been abducted. Edward does for two seconds then says to himself, “No, no, this is--completely necessary. I’M A MONSTER”

Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett get to ride home in this Bella smelling car. Edward keeps laughing, like he’s in an opium den, it’s fucking weird. Edward offers no explanation, the car always smells like Bella, what are you talking about?

Edward then skips to the piano, giggling to himself, and sits down to compose. An action he hasn’t done in years. He’s still grinning and giggling to himself, by the way. Alice joins him at the piano, being equally cryptic and weird as usual. For some reason, Rosalie leaves the room in complete humiliation and shame. This is never explained to anyone watching.

Esme is sitting in the room, taking this all in, and thinks nothing. Instead she smiles, at beautiful Edward, and asks him to play the song he composed for her. She’s so glad to see him filled with joy again. She tells him that he is the best and brightest of all of them.

Esme later gives Edward her pretty much express permission to eat Bella if the girl is causing him such pain and misery. Luckily for Bella, Edward’s in love. So he passes on that and assures Esme the most wonderful thing has happened, he is in love.

My point being, Edward could drop the corpses of the students he murdered in Biology so he could more efficiently eat Bella at Esme’s feet and she wouldn’t blink. It wouldn’t even process for her. Esme would continue carrying on as Esme, nothing changing, while the rest of the family stares agog at the city Edward just murdered.

There is nothing Edward could do or say that would ever change Esme’s mind and she will always treat him as her favorite child.

Jasper

With his gift, I imagine Jasper suspects. Edward loathes Rosalie, despises him, and his feelings for others are... strange. He holds indifference and contempt for mankind and when it comes to Bella. Woof, what a cocktail.

He has no proof though, but I imagine if the smallest thing comes into his lap, that suspicion would become a certainty.

As for what he’d do, it’s hard to say.

I think, in most scenarios, he’d look the other way. Yes, Edward is a monater, but Jasper to is a monster if for different reasons, he has no room to judge. More, Edward is in many respects the heart of the Cullens, far more than Japser himself is. If Jasper goes causing strife, making accusations the others may or may not believe, then the coven could collapse.

This place, these people, are what Jasper thinks he’s been searching for all his life. For the first time, he knows peace, and is trying to live a life where he doesn’t persist in agony every time he succumbs to eating. Jasper is not going to risk that falling apart, even if he finds Edward unpleasant.

And if Edward keeps it to himself, or if the occasional human is the victim, then that’s a price Jasper is willing to pay.

Jasper might actually get concerned when it comes to Bella. For all Bella’s not very close with him, he holds her in very high regard. He nearly devoured Bella, and she forgave him, she forgave him his monstrously brutal past and has never flinched from him. She is a reminder of what humanity can be and why it’s important.

If he realized the threat Edward is to Bella, not just in eating her, but on a level much darker than that, then he might start to act and would probably try to get Bella to leave while she could. However, he also likely knows Bella would never listen, because she doesn’t see what Edward is and nothing would convince her otherwise. Not to mention, as soon as Jasper knows, Edward will plot against him so that no one in the family will ever listen to a word he says.

Not to mention that Alice, of course, must know and doesn’t care. That will be quite the blow to Jasper taking any action.

Barring extreme circumstances, Jasper does nothing, he just watches and waits to see what the others do.

Rosalie

For all that Edward doesn’t bother to be nice to Rosalie, and is ready to lay into her at a moment’s notice, he’s very dear to her. He is, in all regards, her brother and she cares for him deeply as she does the family as a whole.

Rosalie has no idea what he truly is and it would take a lot for her to accept it. More, unlike Carlisle, although she prizes human values and tries to hold herself to human standards her morals have slipped enough that she genuinely advocates murdering Bella Swan in her sleep so that Rosalie won’t have to move.

Murdering Bella won’t be enough, Rosalie will see it as the accident that could have been avoided if Edward hadn’t insisted on being a fool. 

I think, for Rosalie, the best way to drive it home would be a sexual crime. Had Edward forced Bella’s abortion in Breaking Dawn, that would have done it. First, it’d be such a messy, bloody, affair at that point and would look like a horror show (which means Edward’s more than likely to eat Bella in the process). Second, this would be Edward taking the child that Bella wanted, tearing it from her and murdering it, and performing the most vile action that Rosalie can likely even contemplate.

I don’t know what she’d do, I don’t think Rosalie’s capable of killing Edward, she cares for him too much, even after something like this. However, I think she would make an ultimatum to Carlisle “either he goes or I go” and then would never speak of Edward again, he’s dead to her.

[jiminrings]

why do i feel like even if tae is the one who's injured AND caught between stem koo and senior oc's tension, jungkook would STILL be the one who's crying

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

there's fINALLY some sort of peace and redemption between them

taehyung has never been indirectly involved in a palpable situation like this

the last time he was involved in anything remotely close to this, it had something to do with his field trip in second grade

whew god that was a rEALLY pressuring experience for him

it was a split vote to whether they should go to a strawberry field or a newly-opened futuristic kid-friendly interactive dinosaur museum SLASH theme park!!!!!!!

then taehyung picked the strawberry farm that was about 70% dirt

tae's put into a situation again and he doesn't know how to act lmao

"y'okay sweetheart? what's your relation to them?" the kind nurse that's obviously the maternal figure of the emergency ward asks him as she assesses him, a bit of a queue before he could get his leg patched up

he is beyond glad that she asked :D

tae's here to get his leg casted and entertain himself for the meantime!!! his fun isn't exactly correlated to that brooding fucking stem nerd's definition of it!!!

taehyung points to you directly, a cheeky grin on his face as you tilt your head in alert from your seat beside him

"she's my girlfriend!"

you chuckle at his playfulness and even the nurse does so with how proud he sounded, about to scribble it down on her clipboard when someone clearly sounds panicked about it

"she's not his girlfriend," jungkook rises from his slouched position on his seat, wide eyes fixated on the nurse as he shakes his head, trying to make her believe him

it isn't true!!!! that's misinformation!!! that's a crime!!!!

tae snaps his fingers, solemnly shaking his head

"right, my bad!! the two of us aren't in a relationship. actually, the three-..."

god oW

jungkook can't help but whack the back of taehyung's head, their boundary from being semi-strangers in your year you see like twice a day now crossing into semi-friends who aren't reserved with each other jUST because of kook's smack

that's a silent understanding, basically

tae smacks jungkook right back, only stopping on bickering when you intentionally clang your watch on the bedframe to spook them, exiting from the curtain so you could talk with the nurse

being caught in the middle of things cOULD really be fun!!! tae should get involved more often

"so tHIS is why you were outside y/n's dorm when i gave yoongi the cookies!!"

"... you know?"

kook freezes at the possibility that for some way he can't think of, taehyung somehow knows what happened between the two of you

was that why he just hAPPENED to drop by cookies when he was talking with yoongi??

yeah uhm not really

"no. i just know that yoongi hung you out to dry," he snorts because as he recalls it, jungkook looked as pale as a ghost

he didn't really plan to arrive at that time either!!! taehyung just wanted to knock on your door and hopefully drop you his treats then he'll be off his way

he didn't exactly expect to walk in on yoongi looking like he's gonna deck jungkook if only he hadn't yelled out his senior's name

see? it's like the universe just wants taehyung to be at the right places at the wrong times in order for them to eventually fall into place

okay he kinda did take a major L for having his ankle busted but that only means that you and jungkook (even if he doesn't know anything) better make up!!!

“is it bad that i wanted yoongi to punch me that time?” jungkook wonders out loud and he almost wishes he hadn’t, getting an immediate reaction of agreement

“i’ll fill in for him!!” tae half-jokes, getting yet another smack to his shoulder and at that rate, they’d be brothers by tomorrow lmao

“anyways,” he sighs as he leans back to his pillow, keeping his foot elevated. technically, this isn’t his business at all, but what could he do?? he’s sort-of-involved now and jungkook looks like he’s gonna cry out of all people, “you just want yoongi to deck you because that’d absolve you of your guilt.”

kook sighs at that, gripping his hair to keep himself from crying

“but i already know i’m guilty. not only with yoongi, but y/n especially!!”

he whistles at that, getting a mental image with your fists balled because he’s hung around enough practices to photograph all of you for the school paper, knowing that you dO pack a lot of power

“so them decking you is the only way you would feel guiltless?”

jungkook shifts at that, murmuring his answer to the question he’s got thrown

“w-well getting my apology accepted by them would be much appreciated.”

taehyung practically spoon-feeds the answer jungkook need to hear, shrugging carelessly as he watches the boy’s turmoil

god what does he dO?? this is his first interaction with you ever since the incident and he doesn’t know how to act

of all places and scenarios, it just hAD to be in the hospital because stoopid taehyung here decided to run to you while in the rain

as if on cue do you return to the curtained area with a nurse, forms between your fingers

“time to get your x-ray done, tae,” you almost sing-song to him in cheer, being relieved that things were picking up faster than you intended it to

you pat him on the head in an attempt at affection, oblivious to the curious glances that jungkook gives you while he assists the nurse in transferring taehyung to the wheelchair

it’s not until the curtain closes again and taehyung’s gone that you move, hand outstretched to give something to jungkook

.... which is just his share of taehyung’s forms that he needed to fill out so you could get on faster

the two of you are sitting beside each other, chairs close but not exactly close, clipboard in hand and taehyung’s phone at the middle edge of the hospital bed so you could copy his information

jungkook kNOWS he should be focusing on writing tae’s blood type right now, but the spur of the moment nudges him on entirely

"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

he squeaks and he has to breathe out after that

well there it goes :-)

you knew that the day wouldn’t have finished without jungkook’s input, having avoided him long enough that you didn’t know what to feel

were you expecting an apology from him??? uhm not exactly

are you commending him for apologizing??? not at all!! thanking someone for apologizing over what they’ve done to you in the first place is just a new low

“i know i can’t take back what i said now, but i truly didn’t mean it. i-i was just so confused but — b-but i’m not making excuses!! what i did was beyond shitty of me.”

oh hold on a second

that’s the first time you heard jungkook cuss

you wring your hands as you try to absorb his apology as much as possible without feeling awkward

ok you’re not as good for tHIS type of confrontation

it’s not the first time you’ve been wronged but this is perhaps the first time someone owned up to their wrong and apologize for it face-to-face

,,,,,, and not just because yoongi gave them a piece of his mind

yoongi likes fighting battles for you at times, even if you don’t necessarily ask him to

you appreciate it, but you kNOW he did not get jungkook off the hook so easily!!!!

you honestly thought that with his temper, he would’ve punched jungkook even if it was gonna make you mad

“it’s totally up to you if you don’t want to forgive me, b-but i figured i could die trying, y’know? you can reject me a couple hundred times and i’ll retry a couple thousand.”

jungkook adds and it makes the corner of your mouth raise in the tiniest most miniscule way

he knows that not only does he need to apologize with words, he also nEEDS to make it up to you with his actions!!! that’s why he plans on-

you pause your writing on the form, the act of you doing so making him freeze all the same as you try to carry on with speaking as inaudible as possible

"well you know now. i like you, that was my fault," you offer in response to his apology, coughing when you realize your mistake. "i liked you, i mean."

ok he deserved that

jungkook knows you probably figured out the hyeji situation already through yoongi, cutting his explanations down because you don’t even wanna hear her name

was it the truth? do you really not like jungkook anymore?

....

......

.........

you simmer in the own silence you’ve created, only being broken when jungkook shyly murmurs

"can't you like me some more?"

you snort at what seemed to be his playful suggestion, chuckling to yourself

jungkook was only hALF-kidding and he bows his head in embarrassment over your reaction, the pen in his hand feeling extremely light with how his hand’s trembling

you resume your writing wordlessly, not even daring to look at your right because jungkook’s trying to make himself as small as possible too

the words are just dying to fall out from his mouth, an unhinged trap he could no longer regulate when it comes to you

"you're loveable. extremely loveable."

jungkook says out of nowhere and you falter at writing taehyung’s supposed food allergies, a quiet curiosity to your words

"how would you know that?"

there’s no thought process behind it as he speaks surely this time, only taking the slightest bit of courage to look at you from the corner of his eye

"because it's you."

,,,,,

HOW are you supposed to react to that,,,

the curtains peek open and a grinning taehyung on a wheelchair estatically waves his hand

you and jungkook split from each other even if you haven’t been that close enough immediately, thankful for the welcome interruption

tae outstretches his arms for you to hoist him up the bed and you agree instantly, oblivious to the fact that he’s sticking his tongue out to jungkook who’s giving him a mean glare for his playfulness

his x-rays are all finished and he’s just waiting for the doc to come and interpret them (even if it’s beyond obvious that his ankle’s broken!!!!) so he could get on with wrapping his leg with a cast

jungkook takes this as a chance to rise up from his seat, snatching the opportunities he can within the timeframe

"what do you guys want from the cafeteria?"

tae beams at that, grateful because fINALLY someone’s asked him

"ooh!! i want-"

"what would you like, y/n?"

jungkook continues as he effectively interrupts taehyung who’s squinting and looks beyond offended ay the moment

his motive is buying <3 you <3 dinner!! not mr. ankle-breaker over here

you catch on to what he’s trying to do immediately, rolling your eyes with a hint of amusement when you plop back to your chair

“i'll have what taehyung wants.”

huh....

so he has no choice then but to ask,.,.,

jungkook clears his throat, his lips curved to a smile but his eyes looking the furthest thing from friendly

"what would you like,,,, taehyung?"

the boy pretend to be deep in thought just to waste kook’s time even more, even throwing in the humming to sell the idea

he’s been humming for half a minute now

“pasta. i want pasta. like, the most expensive pasta they have,” he nods at the amazement he has for himself, sneaking a look to a narrow-eyed jungkook

“c’mon, kook. think about y/n. she’s getting what i’m getting!!”

jungkook’s eyes instantly become brighter, realization sweeping over his features as he tries to hurry because you might be hungry at this point

“right, of course!! i’ll even get dessert :D”

well wasn’t tHAT easy hee-hee

hey maybe getting your ankle busted does lead to better things!!!

jungkook’s never been more excited to pay for overpriced pasta in cash (!!!) and carry up multiple paper bags of food and drinks on the stairs because the elevator’s taking too long

he’s only slightly confused when he walks to your spot that taehyung wasn’t there, even kinda being relieved actually

tae was whisked away for the second and final time to have his leg wrapped up, leaving you and jungkook alone once again

“that looks expensive.”

you remark the moment you see the fancy paper bags, bringing your wallet out to atleast take out a few bills that you think would cover the cost for this hospital dinner

jungkook incessantly shakes his head no, instead making you sit in place so he could turn the area to be a cozy dinner place as best as he could

"i mean it. i'm gonna make it up to you, i swear."

he speaks sometime in the middle of your silent meal, waiting for the time that it’d feel more sincere and not a little forced

ya know he didn’t want to make it seem that buying overpriced dinners correspond to him making it up to you!!!!

"i know."

you answer truthfully because you might have saw this coming, knowing in the back of your head that you wouldn’t put put it past jungkook to be sincere

you hear a noise of surprise when you reply, jungkook immediately putting his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie to fish out something

“your eyedrops, by the way. i meant to give it back to you earlier.”

your eyes skim on the dainty-looking handmade origami box on jungkook’s palm, a fond look he could atleast distinguish

you take it from him nonetheless, unaware at the multiple layers you have yet to know inside said box

“i can always buy a new one.”

he shakes his head at that, scrunching his nose as he mindlessly pokes at the chicken

he thinks back to what he put inside that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t just buy you a new stock in the first place

“i like giving back.”

giving back as in returing feelings too or whatever maybe!!!!! just maybe

he waves you off when you thank him for giving it back, his next words becoming a little weighted on your mind

"open it up when you feel like it. it's up to you."

that was that then

okay maybe not

you’re almost finished with your dinner and you know that you’re about to come home anyway, getting a text from tae that he’s done being wrapped up and is just waiting for his reminders now

why not say what you want to anyway??

"thank you for the lunchbox yesterday, by the way."

jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard this time, choking on his rice briefly before questioning you wITHOUT looking pathetic

"h-how did you know it was me??"

your hand only skims to the right of him, having to slightly lean against him to get what you need

it’s tae's record that jungkook had to fill up

you’ve just realized it a little while ago when jungkook was downstairs buying from the cafeteria, the distinct way of how he writes his A’s and curves his Y’s being embedded into your mind

:)

"because it's you."

[wing-ed-thing]

Click (Part IV: Rock Lee)

Synopsis: You invited everyone out to dinner. You also audibly clicked. People had opinions about this.

Word Count: 2,228

Warnings/Tags: Attempt at Humor, Fem!Reader

Part I: Shikamaru, Part II: Shino, Part III: Neji, Part IV: Rock Lee , Part V: Naruto, Part VI: Kiba, FINALE, The Message in Click

Notes: Come get y’all juice! For all of y’all who only like this series for Shikamaru, I can safely say that he will make an appearance in all six (6) parts. I don’t know why I always write Ino and Kiba as jerks when I need them, but I’ll be writing some much deserved love for them soon!

Rock Lee felt completely and utterly mortified. Absolutely destroyed beyond any reasonable measure. In fact, he might as well have curled up right there in the dirt right where he stood. He stared, wide eyed, tears near brimming in his waterline.

“You a-are, you are serious, Shikamaru?”

Shikamaru’s hand draped across his face, pulling at the skin below his eye. He glanced around in search for a way out of the conversation he got roped into, but to no avail. He would definitely need a smoke after this. Shikamaru huffed, shifting his weight to his back leg.

“Well, yeah, but it’s really not a big deal though Le-”

“I missed our dear friend’s birthday! Oh, Shikamaru, how will she ever forgive me?” Lee lunged forward, grasping at the shadow-user’s hands in desperation. Shikamaru nearly toppled over. He held out his wrists in front of his body, an effort to keep Lee at bay.

Shikamaru couldn’t help the helpless expression that crinkled his brow. Afterall, this was his own fault. He should have known that bringing up your birthday to Lee could only end in disaster. He didn’t even mean to mention it, it just slipped out before Shikamaru could completely foresee the consequences.

“I’m sure she’s already forgiven you.” Shikamaru reassured the practically melting ninja in front of him. Lee shook his head wildly from side to side.

“No! I must rectify this!” Lee exclaimed, eyes flaming.

Before Shikamaru could say anything, Lee bolted off. Shikamaru sighed, hand retreating into his pockets. Unfortunately, he was someone else’s problem now.

***

“How could you not tell me?” Lee cried, a stream of tears flowing down his cheeks. A contrite look of complete and utter sorrow overtook his face. Neji and Tenten looked at their teammate blankly, unsure as to what exactly it was that they were supposed to do.

“Tell you…?” Tenten waved her hand in a circular motion in front of her. Lee nearly burst into tears as he cried your name loudly.

“Why did you not tell me that her birthday was yesterday?!” Tenten stiffened, diverting her eyes down to the side. She clenched her teeth, eyes widening. Neji paid no attention, but per usual frowned anyway.

“Did you really call a team meeting to talk about this?” He questioned flatly. Tenten crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very small.

“I-” She drew out the syllable. “-didn’t know about all that. About the birthday thing...”

“I did not either!” Lee exclaimed, lunging at Tenten for a supportive hug. She quickly dodged out of the way.

“I did.” Neji put promptly, crossing his arms as well. Tenten turned to him in surprise.

“You did?” She asked, still fending off an energetic Lee. Neji’s scowl deepened.

“Yes, why else did you think she was asking everyone to come to dinner with her?” Tenten’s lips formed a line. Her thumb repeatedly brushed over a patch of skin on her upper arm.

“D-doesn’t she do that all the time though?” She chuckled nervously, the rubbing becoming more frequent. Neji scoffed.

“Please, Tenten. Did you see the dress she was wearing? There’s n-” Neji stopped. He cleared his throat, moving his hands to his hips as he looked up. He hoped that the slight tint of red would quickly drain from his cheeks. “I mean, she was obviously dressed for a special occasion.”

“A very special occasion indeed!” Lee declared, oblivious. “I guess it is better late than never to get a birthday present!” He looked at his two teammates with expectation.

“I’m not too sure that’s necessary since a day has already passed. It might be a slap in the face ‘cause you’re practically telling her that you forgot her birthday when it mattered. I think she’ll understand if you just leave it.” Tenten let out another anxious laugh. Her heel made circles in the dirt. “I didn’t get her anything. Neji didn’t either, right, Neji?” Neji quirked a brow.

“I did, actually.” Lee shouted at the statement as his hands came up to his face. Tenten stared up at the Hyūga.

“You did?”

“What did you get her?” Neji tilted his head up again, inwardly cursing his fair and pale complexion.

“None of your business.” He glowered.

“Then I will ask around to see what everyone else got her!”

And before either teammate could say anything, Lee was gone. Tenten tapped her foot, looking into the distance after Lee.

“It’s not like I knew it was her birthday.” She pouted.

“You still blew her off.” Neji muttered. Tenten pivoted quickly.

“So did you!” She pointed a finger before throwing her hands in the air. “We always blow her off ‘cause-” Neji held up a hand.

“Correction. I almost blew her off.” It didn’t seem physically possible, but his frown deepened. “It’s true that she hardly shuts up, but she’s actually… quite kind.”

***

Much to the fortune of Lee (and the misfortune of his new victims), he found Team Seven and the rest of Team Ten together. Ino and Sakura chatted animatedly together as Naruto and Choji brainstormed their plan of attack on the local eateries of Konoha. And Sai, well... Sai liked to be included.

Lee landed in front of the group causing the two women to nearly knock him out where he stood. If there was one thing that none of the Konoha 12 could ever get used to, it was Rock Lee’s random appearances from random places. It was a stealth undetectable by the sharingan and unseen on missions. Truly a phenomenon. He screamed something incoherent, per usual. Ino stumbled back.

“Lee!” Sakura scolded, eyes closed as she tried to compose herself from the scare. Steam poured from her nostrils. “What did we tell you about appearing out of nowhere?” She seethed. Ino marched up to the taijutsu user.

“Someone better have died for you to make an entrance like that. I swear, Rock Lee, I swear.” Lee sheepishly scratched the back of his head, bowing shallowly in apology.

“I apologize. I report no deaths. I simply have a question of the utmost urgency!”

Naruto peered over the shoulder of his teammate.

“What’s going on?” He questioned. Sai had already appeared by Ino.

Once again, Lee screeched your name aloud abruptly, causing the group to jump in surprise.

“I completely forgot to get her a birthday present!” Lee announced and his fellow ninja tilted their heads in varying degrees of confusion. Lee blinked, waiting for a larger reaction. His knees bent, hands held out with palms facing upward. “You know? For her birthday. Yesterday.”

The lot exchanged looks, wide eyes and circular lips abound.

“That… explains a lot.” Choji cringed, for one letting his bag of chips lower. Lee looked on in confusion at his ninja pals, not understanding the same pained looks that Tenten wore earlier. Sai leaned forward.

“Eh… the day of one’s birth is typically celebrated, correct?” He whispered, but Naruto immediately waved him off. Sakura exhaled forcefully and put a finger up to her lips.

“I assume that she invited the rest of you out?” She squinted one of her eyes, seeming almost afraid to ask. A pause.

“Yep...”

“Eh, yeah...”

“Yes, she did.”

“Uh-huh…”

Sakura crossed her arms, letting her head bow. Both of her eyes clenched shut now.

“And…” She started. “Everyone ignored her to go out with Kiba?”

A chorus of confirmation echoed around her. She cursed to herself under her breath, head snapping up towards the sky as her hands moved to her hips. Sakura shifted to one side as she sighed. Lee continued to watch on in puzzlement. Sakura covered her face, groaning.

“Do any of you have ideas for a gift?” He asked enthusiastically, but was ignored. The four ninja were simply too wrapped up in their own world and Sai, well… Sai just didn’t have a good idea.

“If I had known, I would’ve gone.” Sakura exhaled.

“Yeah, me too.” Naruto huffed. Ino and Choji remained quiet, exchanging looks between themselves. Sai looked on, expressionless.

“Well…” Ino pursed her lips. She took a deep inhale. “C’mon, are we really making a big deal out of this?” Lee’s brows furrowed together.

“Of course! It is a big deal! We forgot our comrade’s birthday and we-”

“Can I say what everyone’s thinking right now?” Lee paused. Ino looked around. “I don’t really think it’s a big deal.” She shrugged and crossed her arms.

“What do you mean?” Lee exclaimed, hands waving rapidly. Sai cleared his throat.

“Well,” Sai prompted with a smile. “It’s not like any of you liked her anyway.” Naruto widened his eyes in shock. His jaw dropped lightly.

“What?” He gritted, turning to Sai and grabbing him roughly by his collar. “Why would you say something like that?”

“No, no.” Choji cut in, stepping in between the two. “I hear what he’s saying. There’s no point in feeling guilty. Like let’s be honest here, it’s not like any of us were really her friends. Like really, Naruto, can you name a time that you actually talked?”

It went quiet. Lee had since lowered his head, his bangs covering his eyes.

“I should be going now.” And with that, he disappeared before anyone could say otherwise.

Naruto stared blankly at the spot Lee stood, lost in thought and pensive. Sakura’s green eyes flickered from the spot to Naruto’s face to his clench fist. She motioned for their three friends to continue onward. Choji opened his mouth to interject, but Ino pulled him swiftly away. Sai followed behind. Sakura put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Naruto shrugged her hand away.

“Naruto,” She spoke softly. “We’ll make it up to her, okay? Don’t beat yourself up.” Naruto shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Sakura. I gotta go.” Sakura called after him as he left, but didn’t chase after him. She knew better.

***

Rock Lee found you just as you were exiting the market. He jumped down in front of you, though you could hardly tell that it was him. Petals blocked your vision completely as he thrust the bouquet in your face. You recognized his voice.

“Happy belated birthday! Please forgive me!” You peered over the flora. Lee bowed deeply at the waist in front of you. He gripped the stems with both hands, stretching his arms out past his head. You gingerly took them from his grasp.

“Oh, thank you, Lee.” You blinked. “What are these for?” Lee struck another dramatic pose.

“Please accept these flowers as my sincerest apology!” You peered down at them, taking in their sweet scent. You brushed over the stems with your fingers, slowly piecing everything together in your mind. You looked back to Lee, whose determined eyes trained on yours. A smile broke out across your lips. A laugh fell from them.

“Lee, you’re so silly!” You giggled and for yet another time that day, Lee was once again very confused. You clicked happily. “This is too much, you really didn’t have to get me flowers.”

“It was the least I could do! Please, allow me to continue making up for forgetting your birthday!” You rocked on your heels, grin wide.

“Well since you missed dinner yesterday, how about you join me for dinner right now?” You offered, not intending to take him up on his offer for the some-odd punishment he likely had in mind. “Come on! Let’s get these flowers in water.”

Lee gladly followed you, and so, you led the way home.

Lee was sure that he had seen most everyone’s apartments, but he most definitely didn’t recognize yours. It appeared more like an elongated closet than any studio apartment he’d ever seen. As soon as you opened the door, Lee could see straight through your kitchenette into your bed area. A small table sat in between the two spaces. A door, which he assumed was the bathroom, existed to the right. He could tell that it was also small simply by the slimness of the doorframe. The memory of his earlier conversation with Team Seven and Ten flashed across his memory. Perhaps he didn’t know you as much as he thought… or liked for that matter. You didn’t notice his momentary dip in energy.

You slipped off your shoes at the mat by the entrance and Lee followed suit, closing the door as he did so. You padded across the small kitchen and plucked open one of your cabinets to reveal a small, glass vase.

“Um…” You turned to look over your shoulder as you filled the container. “You can take a seat. Table or my bed, whichever is comfier!” Lee eyed the basket full of ingredients from the market that rested on the small counter. You placed the vase on the table.

“Surely you are not planning to cook for me.” Disappointment flooded your eyes. Your shoulders dropped. You fiddled with your pants.

“Well, uh… I mean I was. Is that a problem?”

“No!” Lee answered with a certain amount of urgency. “But I should be the one to make dinner for you, not the other way around.”

“You cook, Lee?” You clicked. “You should join me!”

But Lee did not cook. He often tried but for whatever reason, he could never seem to make it work. Nonetheless, that didn’t curb his enthusiasm.

“Yes! I would very much enjoy that!”

He joined you in the kitchen. The flowers sat on the table.

Notes: It’s not entirely from Rock Lee’s point of view, but tired to sprinkle in some language that reflected how I thought he’d think. Good jokes? I thought I wrote at least one banger line 😂

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[jumblejen]

Going to Hell in a Handcart

Suptober21 Day 12: Hellbound

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34460572

“Well hello young man.”

“Hello!” Jack raised his hand in greeting to the older woman settling herself on the bench next to him.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is. Though I think we need rain.”

“True, true. Makes my bones ache though, so I’ll enjoy the sunshine.”

“That makes sense.” Jack pulled a milky way out of his backpack hoping the chocolate hadn’t gotten too melty in the warm air. It was a nice day though. Warm breeze, puffy white clouds to break up the endless blue of the sky. He savored the sweet of chocolate and caramel and nougat on his tongue. Cas said it was important to really taste things when you had a chance.

They sat in companionable silence, Jack enjoying the nougat and the woman enjoying the sunshine. Not seeing a trash can when he was finished, Jack carefully tucked the wrapper into the pocket of his jeans.

“So young man. Do you work around here? I see lots of people take their lunch breaks in the park.”

“Oh, no. I don’t have a job.”

“No job? Hm. Are you looking for one?” Her eyes narrowed.

“No. I’m meeting someone here.”

“A girlfriend,” the woman’s sour expression had turned sweet once again.

“She’s a girl. And she is my friend.”

“But not a sweetheart?”

“Oh Dean says I’m too young for that sort of friend.”

“Who’s Dean?”

“He’s one of my dads.” Jack smiled at the woman, his hair flopping over his brow.

She shifted a bit farther away from him on the bench, eying him with much more suspicion than she’d had before. “Just how many dads do you have?”

“Three or four? It’s depends on how you count.”

“Depends on how you count? Young man, I don’t think you understand what sort of danger you are putting yourself in.”

“This park is very safe. At least three of my dads agree on that.”

“No, no, no. You must be careful.”

“I am careful! The park really is well protected. And Sam, he’s sometimes one of my dads, he made me an emergency kit.”

“It’s not the park you should be concerned with.”

“It’s not? What should I be concerned with?”

“Why, your immortal soul! You don’t want to go to hell do you?”

“Actually that’s why I’m here.”

“Here?”

“On this bench. I’m going to hell any minute now.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Of course. Cas says we should forgive when we can.”

“No, I mean, did you, did you just say you are on this bench to go to hell?”

“Yes. The bench is comfortable while I wait. I’m a little early.”

“Early.”

“Yes. I find it better to not keep the queen of hell waiting, so I’m early.”

“You’re expecting the queen of hell to come meet you at this bench?”

“No, she doesn’t come out here very often. Something about the sun not being good for her skin. I think she just doesn’t want to deal with my dads. Even though they’re all friends.”

“Your ‘dads’ being friends with the queen of hell makes sense. Wait, isn’t it the king of hell?”

“Nope, definitely the queen. Some of the demons wanted to petition for her to be a king of hell since they’ve had kings in the past and they thought gendered language might confuse some of them, but she didn’t take it well and she’s still queen.”

“Satan is the king of hell!”

“Nope. A lot of people get that wrong.”

“I did not get that wrong! I don’t know what kind of weird filthy lies you’ve been taught but you shouldn’t have so many dads and there most certainly is a king of hell and that is Satan.”

“You seem very upset about this.”

“You are mocking me!”

“I don’t think so.”

“You tell me you’re going to die on this bench and go to hell and…”

“I’m not going to die. I’m just going to hell for the day.”

“For the day?”

“Are you alright? You seem very pale all of a sudden.”

The woman put a hand to her chest, her mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out beyond a few squeaks.

“Well, it looks like it’s time. I hope you feel better soon.” Jack gathered up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he walked towards a sleek black car parked at the edge of the park’s lot.

“You’re going to hell in that?!” she sputtered incredulously.

Jack turned and tilted his head. “Yes. Dean keeps hoping that it will be a handcart one of these days, but so far it hasn’t been. I don’t get that joke, but he is very fond of it. Goodbye.” Jack turned back towards the car and continued walking. The door opened and he got inside and the car pulled away.

“Enjoy that little conversation?” Rowena leaned forward in the seat.

“Is it wrong to feel happy about making someone upset?”

“Sometimes. But people who insist on judging strangers that are just existing in the world get what’s coming to them.”

“Would Cas agree with you?”

“Tweety pie would tell you to be better than that. Rise above and all that tosh. But he would also have kissed Dean on that bench if he had been there instead of you.” Rowena sat back against the plush leather interior, smiling. “Come on Jack. Let’s go to hell.”

Jack smiled. “Rowena?”

“Yes dear?”

“What’s a handcart?”

[spiltscribbles]

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed  this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

.-

Prompt Smash Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜   |  A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

.-

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

.-

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary  weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive. 

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation  for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade  when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on. 

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings.  And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers. 

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him  any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year. 

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago. 

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard,  leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything  through the heavy weight around him, the one  cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room. 

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale. 

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and  how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes. 

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud. 

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together. 

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face. 

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?” 

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you  want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught 

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making  some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her. 

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth. 

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what. 

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

.-

[nanamismoonchild]

chapter 3- entrance

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: this chapter is chill :D

wc; ~1.6k

Summary:   You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.  

A/N: ngl im starting to love oc/reader persephone. what do yall think?

prev/next

The journey to the Underworld was quicker than you had imagined it would be. Possibly because of Jungkook rowing quickly across the Styx in a hurry to meet your demand. The ferryman was afraid of going any slower than he usually did in case you decided to feed him the other drachma that hung from your ear.  It was not as pleasant as you expected it to be. You could hear the agonizing moans of the Wraiths who lurked around the river Styx. They were doomed to be there for at least one hundred years as a result of not being able to pay the dreaded fee. 

The boat rocked back and forth, some of the water sloshing onto your feet. It was cramped and you could feel your backside begin to hurt from falling and from sitting on the bare floor of the dingy boat. 

Thankfully, the ride was over soon. The blue man helped you off of the boat while Jungkook was forced to glance at everything but you.  Probably because you were now wet and naked, something you hoped to remedy soon. 

“The entrance to the Underworld is just beyond the hill. I’m afraid your friend will meet Hecate as soon as he crosses the threshold. I am very ashamed of how I treated you Persephone. I beg your forgiveness,” Jungkook’s hoarse voice pleaded. He knelt down in front of you and kissed your feet. 

How sweet. 

“I will think about it. I still have to meet your ruler. Where would he be located?”

“In the throne room. He’s usually always there. I-I will escort you there.”

“There are too many dead people waiting to be taken across. I will guide myself. A throne room should not be hard to find. Consider yourself dismissed.”

You took the blue man’s hand and marched towards the entrance to the Underworld. It was strikingly brighter than the rest of the domain. The symbol of Namjoon, a large cornucopia that spilled its bountiful contents while a scepter was embedded into it, was the golden highlight of the door.  It was most definitely the only welcoming sight you had seen thus far. 

You could hear growling on the other side. 

Your mother had told you many stories of the land of the dead. They had been as dull as a well-used sword. The sheer boredom from listening to your mother tell the tales had put you to sleep as a child. Hearing the growls of the multiheaded dog named Cerberus, who guarded the entrance into the Underworld, made you wish you paid more attention to them. You had no idea how to pass the guard. Killing it was surely not an option. You had no plans to upset the God of the Underworld with any of your reckless behavior.

Unless it was in self-defense. 

Cerberus’s growling became louder as you neared the golden door. The energy from the door was making the Blue Man shake with nervousness. You were shaking as well, but it was mostly from the cold air that wrapped around your naked body. Hopefully, someone in the castle would offer you something to wear. That or you’d simply just steal the clothes off of the nearest servant.  

“How do you even open this door? It’s huge!” You exclaimed as the both of you stared at the door. 

The Blue Man shrugged and gestured a pushing motion.  He hadn’t spoken since the two of you dropped down into the Underworld. Perhaps he was afraid of you after the stunt with the ferryman. Good. 

“You want me to push the door? By myself?” The Blue Man shook his head quickly.  “That’s what I thought. We’ll push together on the count of three and once it opens, even a little, I want you to peek over and see if the guard is near. I do not have the time for running for my life in the Underworld.”

The Blue Man nodded again and placed his hands on the door, putting himself into a lunging position, prepared to push on the door with all of his ghostly might. You mirrored his stance. 

“On three, one, two, three, push!”

Both of you pushed and immediately fell faces first into the threshold of the entrance. The door might have seemed heavy, but it was the entrance to the underworld. It was as light as a door to a home.  

Groaning, you sat up on your knees and took a peek at your surroundings. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen but his growling could still be heard in the distance. 

The door had spilled you and the blue man onto a pathway that forked into two paths. The ferryman had mentioned Hecate, and if you remembered correctly, the goddess ruled over crossroads among other things.  The fork was obviously a crossroad but where was the goddess?

“Dear Persephone.  There are many crossroads here in the Underworld. This is the one your little friend is supposed to see,” the goddess’s voice echoed as she appeared behind you. 

You startled and swiftly spun around to face her. Hecate had a knowledgeable smile on her face. 

“He knows what he must do. I have set up a nice set of decisions for him. He can choose to live and be reborn in Elysium. He has done many good things in his life. Or the other option is to live as a servant to Namjoon. Perfect right?”

“I do believe that is as fair as it comes. You are very generous.”

You turned towards the man who was turning a lot less blue. You could just make out his facial features. He was handsome for someone who lived poorly. His hair was nicely combed into a fashion that men wore these days-a side part that showcased his broad forehead.   His jaw was set in thought as he pondered his decision. This was his fate. 

He took a hesitant step towards the path as if he were weighing the benefits and outcomes of each path. You could only imagine what he could be thinking about. 

He could be reborn, but what if his new life was even harder than the last. He wouldn’t remember his old family, his children, his wife. He would have to create new memories, good or bad,  if the new life let him. 

On the other hand, who knew what the ruler of the Underworld would have him do. He could live out his eternity behind in the castle walls, bowing to every command. He had possibly about the kindness  Namjoon showed his servants and the freedom they were allowed. He only requested they complete their duties.

 Could he live with that? Could he live with knowing that he would be allowed to remember his old family, and possibly see them in the future when they grew old or died an early death such as he did?

The man took several more steps before he was bounding towards the path that led to the right. And then he was gone. 

“What a wonderful choice he made,” Hecate sighed dreamily at your side. She was holding a torch that had manifested in her hand as the blue man’s light disappeared.

“What choice did he make?”

“I cannot tell you, Persephone. But I do think you’ll find out soon. The throne room is just beyond that same path. I’m sure Namjoon is waiting for you. Goodbye.”

After answering and not answering your question, Hecate disappeared leaving only a white mist in her wake. Fortunately, she did leave the torch that floated in her place. Grabbing it, you straighten your shoulders and step into the same path the man had taken only moments ago. 

The man had simply vanished but the path before you seemed to stretch on for the gods know how long. 

“Of course, it would be hard for me. It isn’t my crossroad to walk on,” you muttered to yourself and continued on. 

You were beginning to regret not turning around (a first for you) before you heard the murmuring of voices. You started running in the direction of the voices.

Please, please, please, let there be a fire or something. My body is on the verge of hypothermia.  

The murmurs were becoming louder and you could make out a faint glow. 

Finally. Finally. 

You burst out into a crowded room. The murmurs had been coming from the servants who were surrounding something in the middle of the room.  They were all dressed in a mix of black, white, and grey clothing. There was a fire near where you had come from, so you snuck over to get a little warmth and to eavesdrop.

“Oh wow. Someone new!”

“He could take over my extra duties.”

“No mine!”

“Why did someone so handsome choose to become a servant?”

“Everyone, shush! Our King is coming.”

The crowd quieted down as loud but calculated footsteps resounded through the room. Everyone was holding their breath, including you. You had never met Namjoon in person as he preferred to stay in his domain.  

Nothing prepared you for the man in front of you. Your mother had always made it sound as if he were the most average man alive. 

He was nothing like that. Namjoon was exceptionally darker than the proposed pale that your mother had told. He held himself with an aura of royalty.

Namjoon made his way up to his throne where he stood tall and proud in front of his audience. 

“We have a newcomer today,” his deep tenor resonated through the room, “Please come up and introduce yourself to me before I sit.”

The man who you had journeyed with kneeled before Namjoon. He was dressed in the servant’s clothing and his brown hair was pulled back into a bun. 

“My name is Kim Seokjin. And it was an honor to serve you today, by leading the woman who you have been desiring to you.”

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Thoughts on the ship Rosalie/Bella?

While it’s a nice thought, sadly, I don’t think either Rosalie or Bella are what the other would ever seek in a partner.

Indeed, I think the other would be too close of a reminder to what they see in the worst of themselves. So, even in better circumstances, I don’t think they’d choose each other.

Let’s break that down.

What is Rosalie Looking For?

Rosalie’s past is one filled with brutal trauma, betrayal, and heartbreak. She has been violated by men in the worst of ways, betrayed by the man she thought would be her husband, and then has the surreal experience of being turned into something that, while alive, is not human.

She romanticizes the human life she could have had, clinging to it, never acknowledging that circumstances were such that she never would have had it.

Rosalie never was going to get that simple future of being a humble, good, simple man’s wife with beautiful children and a comfortable life. She was raised in society, uncommonly beautiful and charming, and was set to marry the wealthiest man she could. It might not have been Royce, she could have married a good man, but she would have married into this wealthy world and not ended up with someone like Emmett.

I think this is very telling.

For very understandable reasons, Rosalie has never confronted nor truly gotten over her trauma. Oh, she murdered her rapists and murderers, and put their deaths behind her, she married Emmett and has a (fairly) good relationship with him, but she hasn’t taken her full final steps to recovery.

I think this in part shows in her ending up with a guy like Emmett.

Emmett’s not bad, don’t get me wrong, but it’s very telling in what he loves of Rosalie and that Rosalie loves him for it.

He worships her beauty above all other things and is described as a very simple but pleasant and laidback guy. I think Rosalie is at the point where she wants to be worshipped, especially for the quality that was most valued in her human life, her beauty.

She wants to be with someone safe, someone who loves her, and that someone is definitely Emmett.

I think in the short run this works out very well for the pair of them and perhaps even in the long run. I think both could have chosen a better partner.

Rosalie is complicated, she’s not the shallow vain bitch Edward complains she is nor is she what Emmett seems to see her as. Emmett doesn’t really get his wife, or defend her all that much, he’s in love with her beautiful cheerleader persona. Rosalie, similarly, is in love with this man whose greatest attribute is his love of her. I’m sure there are moments she finds Emmett rather boorish and slow on the uptake.

What Do I Think Rosalie Needs?

To be honest, of all the characters where I raise my eyebrow at Meyer putting them with someone of the opposite gender, Rosalie’s one of the ones where they raise the highest.

Even Carlisle, when Rosalie drags in this man’s bleeding carcass, goes, “Oh, is this your cousin?” And has a “Him?!” moment when Rosalie explains this is her new husband.

I always would have expected, especially after her experiences, for Rosalie to be with a woman. That said, I do think her society’s prejudices and expectations would be a huge barrier for her and she’d have to do a lot of character growth before this would ever be possible. And I mean a lot of character growth, as in, Rosalie hasn’t reached this point even post Twilight saga.

Right, regardless of gender, I think Rosalie needs a partner who a) understands her b) does not value her looks c) accepts the good and the bad parts of her.

Like all of us, Rosalie is flawed. She’s a very impressive, down right intimidating, woman who has an iron clad will and gets what she wants. She has a deep love for her family and a great capacity for compassion. However, there are times when she’s the sixteen-year-old girl who has very much not escaped her society’s mindset. She fully advocates Bella Swan’s murder so the family won’t have to move, not realizing until Carlisle points it out that this is a heinous thing to do. Rosalie says vicious, racist, things to Jake likely never realizing exactly what it is she’s saying. She’s stubborn, proud, and as Edward put it a bit pig-headed.

Emmett tends to just go “Yeah, she’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch”. Which... great, thanks Emmett, that’s very helpful.

Bella Swan is Not That Person

Bella per the start of the series is a seventeen-year-old girl with cripplingly low self-esteem, huge parental issues, and a dangerous inclination towards depression.

Bella shows serious interest in women sexually (her relationship with Alice has some serious homoerotic undertones) but she’s also very intimidated by them. Rosalie, especially, makes Bella evaluate and feel worse about herself as she knows she will never be as beautiful as this teenage blonde goddess.

In other words, this Bella is not in a position to be the kind of person Rosalie needs. She’s too caught up in figuring out who she herself is, cares very much about Rosalie’s appearance and using it to compare against her own, and isn’t stable enough to be what Rosalie needs.

And by the end of canon... Well... Bella’s left the planet and will soon join Esme in being a hauntingly strange person entirely divorced from reality.

What if we’re in a slightly AU world?

Well, we’re banking on a lot of character development for Bella that I don’t believe can happen with Edward around. Either Bella shows interest in Edward or, well, he eats her. (No, seriously, this is canon, both Alice and Edward confirm as much.) 

And if the family packs up and leaves during New Moon and never comes back... Well, of all the people Bella might end up with after that, I think Rosalie might just be the least likely (not to mention Rosalie would not be down for hanging around Edward’s stupid human girlfriend).

What is Bella Looking For?

Bella’s looking for validation of her very self. She wants to be loved, more than that, she wants to be worth something.

Bella has such a low opinion of herself that, at this point in her life, she needs this feeling to come from elsewhere. She finds this in both Edward and Jacob.

And it doesn’t matter how scary they are (and both are, indeed, very scary towards her), it doesn’t matter what it is they value, just that they both seem to want her even though she’s a foolish, clumsy, pale, ugly, human, nobody, loser. 

That’s all Bella wants.

Edward’s a perfect storm in that he’s inhumanly perfect, beautiful beyond all comprehension, and completely obsessed with her. In Edward’s eyes, Bella is not just perfect, she’s fascinating.

And then, of course, she’s not and it utterly destroys her. 

Basically, Bella’s is a very sad life.

What Does Bella Need?

Bella needs time to grow up and find out who she is and how to value that.

Bella is your very typical teenage girl. She’s precocious, has a lot of issues growing up with her mom, but she has a lot of issues many teenage girls do have.

I think, before Bella can find a truly good partner, she needs to learn how to value herself.

This will be painful and take a lot of time. In New Moon, I think Jake actually sets her back as she uses him to find value in herself for her (essentially replacing Edward).

Only after Bella discovers who she is, reaffirms why she is important and worthy of love, can she find someone.

What does that person look like?

Well, it sure as fuck isn’t Vampire Patrick Bateman, otherwise known as Edward Cullen. Nor is it Jake Black who sexually assaults her, tells her to kiss him or he’ll kill himself, then tells her that her dying is pointless as it means he and Edward fought over nothing. 

It also isn’t Alice, who treats Bella a lot like she would a life-sized Barbie Doll rather than a friend and a human being.

I’m not sure who it is, to be honest.

Someone who recognizes who Bella is, certainly, the good and the bad. Someone who is able to... reconcile her with the world she truly lives in. Maybe, circumstances changing around a bit, it’s Carlisle Cullen? (Though that would certainly be a dumpster fire of divorce and despair with Edward and Esme) Maybe it’s Jasper (also a dumpster fire of divorce and despair with Edward and Alice)? 

I really have no idea here. Unlike Rosalie, I can’t even tell you what this person would need to be like.

What I do know is...

Rosalie is Not That Person

Just as Bella views Rosalie as a threat, as something to measure herself against and feel unworthy of in every way, Rosalie does the same.

Bella is a pretty human woman who captures Edward’s attention in a way she never can. Rosalie, at the time we start canon, for all her accomplishments and all she’s done is still insecure enough that she needs to be the prettiest woman in the room. 

Just as Bella’s not secure enough to be what Rosalie needs, Rosalie is not secure enough to be what Bella needs.

Rosalie also doesn’t see Bella for what she is. Rosalie sees, at first, a normal boring human teenager and dismisses her. She falls into the typical Cullen trap (for all but Carlisle) that they forget humans are people too. Later, Bella discounts Rosalie’s very earnest advice and Rosalie never forgives her for it. This is understandable, Rosalie lays her soul bare, but she forgets Bella’s a teenage girl and more can’t see what Bella herself is battling with.

Bella thinks being human is worthless because Bella thinks being Bella is worthless. Children and a human future mean nothing to her.

It would take a lot, A LOT, of character development for Rosalie to be someone that Bella needs in this situation and even then... Well, they’d have to deal with the horrifying shit show that is Edward. Because if Edward/Bella isn’t happening...

It’s lunch time.

TL;DR

I’d say pin your hopes on Alice/Bella, except that one’s not happening either for all that they do have their very homoerotic friendship.

[writtenvisionary]

Rooftop Riddles

Read on Ao3

WC: 5.1k

Summary: One riddle changes everything. Dramatic identity reveal, oneshot, ladynoir/adrienette | trigger warning - depression, self-harm, abuse/neglect

The breeze was nothing short of refreshing as she sat next to her partner in crime. He was silent for the time being, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would start saying something stupid. So she took in her surroundings while there was still silence between them.

It was dark; street lights illuminated all of Paris. Shadows bounced from wall to wall as civilians took their nightly walks, either from work or just around the block to get some fresh, cool air before they go to sleep. There are also those pathetically trudging toward their place of employment for their overnight shifts, and Marinette felt for them. Being Ladybug was all too taxing on her, and she often felt like she worked 24 hours, but in reality it was just all of the extra exercise that made her so exhausted every day.

Looking over at Chat Noir, she takes in his appearance. His hunched back, drooped cat ears, slow breaths. He’s looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. Her eyebrows furrow.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her partner beats her to it.

“Wanna hear a riddle?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Okay. What do you call a sad watermelon?”

Ladybug had to think. Biting her bottom lip, she pondered an answer.

“Um... I don’t know, what?”

“Melon-choly.”

A smile lit up her face.

“Oh!” She laughed.

“Here’s another. It’s kinda long, so get ready.”

She nods, shifting in her seat.

“A single father took care of his baby, and he was rich so the baby had a lot. Food, clothes, excessive stuff. What didn’tthe baby have?”

Marinette frowns, some weird feeling rushing through her veins. She sits up, narrowing her eyes at the boy clad in a black leather suit. He sits with his legs pulled up to his chest, looking straight forward. Not even a tiny upward lift of his lips, making her worry.

Something about the way he delivered that riddle was… ominous. It didn’t seem like he was disconnected from the story he was telling. It’s almost like he could relate.

She gulps.

“A mother?”

He nods, then hangs his head for a moment before pulling it back up and flashing an obviously fake smile in her direction.

“Bingo,” he says dryly.

Her frown deepens.

Why did that riddle sound like something personal? Is he rich?

That sounds like someone she knows. And the riddle boy’s mother was gone… that sounded like him too.

No, there’s no correlation. It’s just a random riddle.

“Alright, last one.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“I am twisted from what I was, to hold the weight of others. Yet tie a knot, and my use to this world is gone.”

Her heart plummets down into her stomach. She loses her breath and has to look back at the city of Paris to think.

If it was possible, this riddle sounded scarier than the last. Chat Noir must really be in a bad mood because normally he puns, not riddles, and the jokes he tells are stupid and funny. These are just... depressing. Her concern is growing by the minute.

She needs to give an answer.

Twisted… Hold the weight of others… Tie a knot… My use to this world is gone.

Tie a knot? What?

“I—“ she licks her lips and shakes her head.

“I’m at a loss. I don’t know.”

Chat hesitates before whispering the answer.

“A noose.”

Her eyes widen and she suddenly feels like she’s been punched in the face.

“Just kidding, it’s a paperclip.”

But he didn’t seem like he was kidding. She was officially scared.

“Chat, you’re worrying me.”

“What do you call a dead pine tree?”

“Chat.”

“A never-green.”

“Minou, I —“

“What do you call a broken pencil?”

“Chat Noir.”

“Pointless,” he laughs darkly.

“Chat Noir!”

Finally, he looks over at her and her mouth falls agape.

His complexion is so pale, lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are glistening.

“What?” He asks, voice breaking on the word.

Carefully, she places her hands on either side of his face. She stares directly into his eyes.

“You’re worrying me,” her voice shakes. “Please tell me whatever’s making you upset so I can help.”

“… I-I’m not upset.”

“Kitty. You just told me a riddle about a noose.”

He shakes his head, scrunching his eyebrows.

“It was a paperclip, milady. Can’t you appreciate a good joke?”

“Chat, all of the jokes you’ve cracked tonight have been nothing short of depressing.”

Frowning, he pulls away from her hold, avoiding her gaze.

“So? New to dark humor?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But that’s not normally the humor you have, Chaton.”

He’s quiet for a couple seconds before responding.

“Just wanted to try something different—“

“I’m not going to take these bullshit excuses, you know?”

Chat Noir raises an eyebrow, not used to such language coming from his lady.

“They’re not excuses—“

“YES they are!”

She softens her voice.

“Please,” she begs. “Talk to me.”

It’s almost as if she didn’t say anything, how he continues to stare into the distance, silently appreciating the view of Paris. She follows suit, not knowing what else to say. Instead, she decides to wait it out. Hopefully he’ll talk. Eventually.

And he does.

“My mother died about a year ago.”

Her jaw slackens, but she stays silent.

“Father has always been very… strict. But lately he’s been putting a lot on me. Stuff that… stuff that a normal, average sixteen-year old shouldn’t have to put up with,” he sighs.

He calls his dad father? The only other person who does that is…

Alarms go off in her head.

“He makes me take so many lessons beyond school. Chinese, fencing, piano— and he didn’t even let me go to public school until four months ago. I was homeschooled by my father’s assistant, I mean she’s a good family friend—“

Wait.

“And the only friend that was ever allowed over was the mayor’s daughter, and she’s snobby and hangs off of me like I’m her fucking property when I’m NOT and—“

Chloé?

“Father doesn’t even have dinner with me. I mean, maybe once every two months if I get lucky—“

Her eyes widen. He couldn’t be…

“But most of the time it’s just me and the family friend, and she’s not even eating! She’s looking over my schedule to make sure it’s as jam-packed as it was the day before. I swear I never get a break.

“Sometimes it feels like Father is always disappointed in me, no matter what I do. I feel like I’m trapped in his bubble, like I can’t get out. My house is like a fortress. Or a prison. Being Chat Noir is my escape but I just… It’s getting to be too much, milady.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

She feels like she lost her voice. Her brain is on overdrive.

If all the pieces are adding up, my akuma-fighting partner is also my crush who is also a world famous model and—

Focus, Marinette.

“It sounds stressful, A— uh, Chat.”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“Did I say too much?”

She bites her lip. Yes.

“No?”

It comes out as a question. He must suspect that she’s lying.

He tilts his head in admission, then looks down.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Um… I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

Slowly, Chat Noir—Adrien—meets her gaze once again.

His response was hesitant. “Yeah.”

She has to sigh; she doesn’t seem to be getting through to him.

“Minou, you are loved and wanted and I want to make sure you know that.”

Chat Noir chews his bottom lip.

“Thanks, bugaboo.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, just peering down at the streets of their city. She wants to ask him more questions because it seems like there’s more he’s not telling her, but decides against it. She doesn’t expect him to tell her everything, especially since opening up that much was already hard enough for him (and she really shouldn’t have been able to figure out his identity because danger! but she supposes she’ll forgive him since he’s literally the love of her life and he needs someone to be there for him either way).

A small movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks in Chat’s direction, noting how he’s holding a hand over his left wrist. Her frown deepens. It’s not like she wants him to notice that she’s staring, but she can’t look away. Warily, she watches his face twist in pain.

“Does your wrist hurt, kitty?”

He startles, but shakes his head.

“It’s good.”

“But,” she challenges, “you’re holding it. Looks like it hurts…”

Chat Noir clenches his teeth, turning to look at his lady with fire in his eyes.

“I said it’s good, Ladybug. Leave it.”

Marinette flinches at the use of her superhero name instead of one of his usual nicknames for her. His tone is uncharacteristically harsh, as well.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

The last thing she wants to do is upset him more.

She clears her throat, at a loss for words. The atmosphere had suddenly turned tense and she wasn’t fully enjoying his presence anymore. Of course, he wasn’t dangerous or anything, but she really didn’t want him to snap at her again.

Ladybug likes a happy kitten, not a bitter one.

She wishes she knew what to do.

“Well,” Chat speaks. “I gotta head out; get back home before my father’s assistant notices I’m gone and I get taken out of school.”

He stands, getting ready to extend his baton and hop from building to building for as long as possible in order to procrastinate his return to the large, lonely mansion where he resides.

Ladybug hops up so quickly that her head spins, but she ignores it in hope of saying one last thing before he leaves.

“Hey, Chaton?”

Said cat boy looks in her direction, letting her know that he’s listening.

Instead of speaking, she just leans forward to press her lips onto his cheek. When she pulls away, she offers a smile.

“You and me against the world.”

He plasters a (fake) grin onto his face, “Thanks, bugaboo. See you later.”

Then he bolts away, leaving his Lady alone on a rooftop.

Life had gone on as normal for both Adrien and Marinette. For the next two weeks, the superhero pair had not spoken about Chat’s home life or his internal struggles. She wanted to give him some space and he simply wanted to forget that he even showed so much vulnerability around her.

Granted, Adrien didn’t care that she knew. In fact, he was pretty happy that she had been willing to listen. Usually she never allowed rants from the either of them because she knew that it was easy to slip up and say something that could lead an unwarranted identity reveal.

Marinette wanted to talk to him, come to a mutual agreement, and then officially tell each other who they were. She knew it was unfair that she knew and wasn’t telling him, but in all honesty, she wasn’t even sure her suspicions are right.

(She’s ninety-nine percent sure).

Her eyes had been on Adrien for those two weeks, subtly checking to make sure that there weren’t bags under his eyes (there were), that his smiles weren’t forced (they were), and that he was eating enough (she had no way of knowing, but he hadn’t asked for a macaron in a few days and she was starting to get worried).

He was doing somewhat alright, from what she could tell. She didn’t expect to see anything different today.

Boy, was she wrong.

She had been passing out papers to the class regarding their next class trip, explaining that they needed a parent signature, as well as forty-two Euros by next Monday, in order to attend. When she reached Adrien, she paused.

He was rubbing at his left wrist — the same wrist that Chat had been holding in pain that night two weeks ago. His face was contorted painfully; familiarly. This brought about her worries.

Subtly, she placed down the papers in front of him, to which he looked up at her and sent an oh so fake smile in thanks.

As she walked away, Marinette just barely caught a glimpse of some red, scratch-like marks on his skin as he picked the paper up.

Her heart dropped.

She hadn’t realized that him holding his wrist earlier was a sign of self-harm. Apparently he was worse off than she thought. Now, it’s a whole different ball game — one that can’t have secret identities interfering with. She has no choice; she needs to stay in contact with him.

He needs to be okay.

Marinette tried to wait until patrol that night. Really, she did. But she couldn’t resist zipping over to his house and knocking at his window right after his fencing practice had ended.

He jumps at the sound, quickly ushering Plagg to hide in his shirt, before turning around to look at the super-heroine.

“Hi, Ladybug!” He greets with a smile. “Anything I can help you with today?”

She takes that as an invitation to leap into his room, then she allows her yoyo to snap close as she lands in front of him.

Her hands stay in fists as she brings them up to rest at either side of her waist. She grins brightly in his direction.

“Hi, kitty!”

It’s almost comical how his smile drops.

“What?”

In lieu of a response, she drops her arms to rest at her side. Then she takes a few steps forward so that she’s standing much closer to him.

“Your father is strict… he has an assistant… he makes you take piano, fencing, Chinese lessons…”

His eyes widen slowly as she speaks, his heart beating erratically.

Ladybug scoffs, “Honestly, Adrien? You couldn’t have been more obvious.”

He gulps in horror.

Then he narrows his eyes.

“How did you know that Adrien Agreste takes Chinese lessons? I’ve never once mentioned that in an interview…”

She stiffens.

“Uh. B-because you told me before.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“As Chat,” she supplies.

The model scoffs, “I’m not Chat Noir.”

Ladybug shrugs, beginning to stroll around his room.

“Okay. So why did I see you rub your wrist in class today, hm?”

Now it’s Adrien’s turn to stiffen.

“Y-y-you’re in my class? What?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes. I’m the class president.”

She says it so confidently that it scares her. He’s sure to figure it out by now. She can’t look at him as he comes to the realization.

“But my class president is Marinette— wait.”

He huffs, smirking.

“Are you Marinette?”

Finally she casts her gaze in his direction.

“In the flesh.”

She watches as his eyes light up. He approaches her with a smile.

“Oh my god. Wait, then I’m totally okay admitting I’m Chat Noir.”

Her eyebrow raises, “Oh yeah? And if I was, say, Chloé… would you have admitted it?”

He immediately shakes his head.

Ladybug doesn’t even try to stifle her laugh.

“Spots off.”

Adrien watches in amazement as a magical, pink light engulfs her entire body, leaving Marinette Dupain-Cheng standing in his bedroom.

When she’s out of the Miraculous, the first thing Tikki does is call Plagg.

“Plagg, get out here! I need to talk to you!”

Plagg phases through Adrien’s over-shirt and glares at his counterpart.

“Well hello to you too, Sugarcube!”

The other side of the room is then occupied by two magical creatures, allowing for Adrien and Marinette to have some time alone.

An awkward tension fills the air for the first couple moments, as the two recently-outed superheroes stare at each other, letting everything sink in.

Adrien is the first to speak.

“Wow, uh… wow.”

Marinette only nods, unable to comment on his reaction as she is overflowing with concern.

“Adrien, we have to talk.”

His eyes dim and his lips curve downwards. He nods, hanging his head.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “we do.”

He leads her over to the couch and gestures for her to sit down. Then he gets situated right next to her, positioning his hands on his knees. Marinette takes a deep breath.

“So… I saw the scars in class today.”

She shifts her eyes to his left wrist, uncovered and visibly scarred. He follows her eyes, frowning when he meets their destination.

Adrien simply hums, staring at the abused skin but not saying a word.

“Why?” Marinette whispers.

He shrugs.

“I’m fine. It’s just… Chat Noir gives me freedom, but sometimes it’s not enough. I promise I don’t do it that often.”

“The amount of times you do it doesn’t matter, kitty, it’s the fact that you do.”

“What do you care anyway?” He scoffs. “You weren’t paying me much attention before I was in a sour mood that day.”

“I’ve always cared, Adrien. Always. Just because I’m super level-headed doesn’t mean that I don’t pay attention. I notice when you’re sad. I do. This time you were really worrying me, though, so I spoke up.”

Adrien rolls his eyes, “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe I wanted you to ask how I was feeling all those other times I was sad?”

She quiets at that.

“I mean, I understand that you don’t want to get in my way, but I appreciate people caring, Marinette. It means a lot to me. I feel like, if I never gave away too much information, you would still be assuming things about me. Things like, oh he’s okay because he’s loud and cocky and cracks jokes all the time — maybe it’s just a bad day.”

He shakes his head, allowing a bitter laugh to escape his raw throat.

“Every day is a bad day, Mari. I’m just a good fucking actor.”

Marinette soaks in every word like a sponge, letting each and every one hit her right where it hurts, because it’s true. He is a good actor; she’s not good at understanding the script.

I’m sorry, she wants to say. The words dance on the tip of her tongue.

He’s not finished, though.

“I want the world to suffer some days, you know? I want everyone to feel just as pressured and exploited as I have been for basically my entire life. I want all my friends with a good family to see what it’s like to live in this large mansion, with their father closed away in his room, never to be seen again by his own son who just wants him to say I love you.”

When had he started crying?

Well, the tears are flowing and he can’t stop the river now. Not when he has more to say.

“I have the power of destruction wrapped around my finger, Marinette.”

His lip trembles.

“You should be glad that I haven’t tried to Cataclysm any houses, or street lights, or cars, or busses, or-or-or—“

He breaks.

He meant to keep going — to finish his sentence — but he breaks.

There’s not much more that Marinette can do, other than pull him into her arms and whisper soothing words of reassurance as he sobs uncontrollably.

She rubs his back, softly shh-ing him as he lets it all out of his system. She allows him to drown for the time being, all while reassuring that she’ll be there to pull him back to shore.

Each one of his sniffles was a subtle reminder that she was there for him; that no matter if his father comes around to finally paying him some attention, or not, he will always have her shoulder to cry on. Simultaneously, though, her heart twists at how unhealthily he’s been dealing with the trauma.

She had heard stories upon stories of teenagers resorting to self-harm because they had no other outlet, and she had been so thankful that no one she knew had taken those measures. Now, a statistic has become personal. She would be lying if she said that she knew how to handle it.

But she knew that no matter the circumstance, it had to be dealt with.

That meant getting her crush some professional help. A therapist, some medication, and plenty of cuddles. (Cuddles arescientifically proven to relieve anxiety, right? It’s a professional technique).

A quiet sniffle breaks her out of her thoughts. She glances down at Adrien as he slightly pulls away from her hold, eyes red and puffy.

Maybe that can all be dealt with later.

She ruffles his hair.

“Let’s go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Adrien peers up at her in confusion.

She just smiles and wriggles out of their position on his couch, then stands up with her hands on her hips.

“Ice cream always cheers me up. We definitely have to talk more about this later, among other things, but I can’t bear to see you sad any longer. So let’s go!”

The left corner of his mouth perks up, albeit only for a mere second.

“My father—“

“To hell with you father,” Marinette reaches down to grab his hand and hoists him up from the couch.

“We are going to get ice cream whether he likes it or not. You need to do what makes YOU happy, ‘kay?”

He concedes.

After ice cream, they return to the bakery and consult with Tom and Sabine. It had taken a lot of convincing on Marinette’s part to get Adrien to agree, but from there began the journey of his recovery.

They explained his home situation and mental health struggles in full, only leaving out the part about them fighting akumas. Both adults had immediately started searching for a good therapist (and lawyer) that would help Adrien get on the right track.

In the end, Adrien was glad that they had told her parents. Their concern for him and dedication to his cause filled his heart with long lost hope and parental love. It had been so long since he felt cared for. And now that he’s felt it once again, he’s not ready to let it go.

Thank goodness the Dupain-Chengs’ weren’t going to let him go so easily.

It was a unanimous decision that, until he feels comfortable going back to the mansion, he would stay. He didn’t want to burden them, but they insisted. So he had no choice but to accept the offer.

Before he even knew it, another two weeks had passed. A new routine was broken in by the members of the D.C. household — Marinette was getting real annoyed with Adrien’s constant comparisons of her last name initials to Marvel (her father had taken a liking to his puns, however, so now she just lived in constant pain) — and suddenly it was like he had always been there.

His first therapy session wasn’t great. He was riddled with anxiety (no pun intended) and Doctor Benson was too nice for his liking. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was just so off-putting, considering he wasn’t used to being treated with such kindness even by his own father.

Doctor Benson told him that a lot of the things he’s been experiencing aren’t normal, but his response to that trauma is. At first he had been confused when he was told that his father was emotionally neglectful and verbally abusive. He didn’t understand what his father was doing wrong. Once Doctor Benson explained that, “Abuse is a violent, repetitive behavior that has a negative mental, emotional, and/or physical impact on the victim,” it became more clear.

It’s still a concept that he’s getting used to — that he’s a victim of abuse. The thought makes his skin crawl and a shiver run up his spine because he never considered himself to be part of a statistic. Now that he knows he is, he’s not sure what to do.

Marinette keeps telling him, “Even agreeing to go to therapy is a huge step in the right direction, and I’m so proud of you.” Then she goes on to tell him just how special he is to her and how important him and his life is and all of this crap about how he’s worth more than he thinks.

He has to believe her, too, because she’s the one that found him at his worst and instead of judging him, picked him off the ground and took initiative. She’s the one that brought him to her parents, helped him hide from his father, and even got him a part-time job at the bakery. It’s only temporary until he is able to access his earnings, but he will admit that he likes it way better than modeling; that had just been because his father wanted him to, anyways.

Everyone tells him time and time again that he should not be living for his father. He wants to disagree, because that’s what he’s been conditioned to do for so long, but he ultimately chooses not to. Because they’re right; he’s a young adult who should have the freedom to make his own decisions.

In the end, if he’s not happy, there’s always more opportunities. He knows that now.

And there’s no better way to figure out what he wants than to explore, and reach out for help.

A black cat and a ladybug sat atop a roof.

Marinette has her head tucked into the crook of her partner’s neck, eyes closed as she feels the wind blow past her. Adrien’s head lays on top of hers’ and eyes are trained on the full moon above them.

It had been a long day; one akuma attack and three tests, plus their friends wanted to hang out. Exhaustion had taken over hours before, and sleep was creeping up on them. They cherish the view of Paris at night while it lasts, before they have to go home and do it all again the next day.

When she lifts her head to look at her favorite kitty, she’s relieved to see a soft smile resting on his features.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

He glances at her before turning back to the stars, then hesitates.

“Can I tell you a riddle?”

Her face pales and stomach plummets.

“N-no, I don’t want to play this game again.”

“I promise its a good one, nothing too sad.”

They lock eyes. She can tell there is sincerity within those dark green orbs, so she reluctantly nods.

Adrien licks his lips, not breaking his gaze.

“I visit you every night, even if you don’t call me. I’m lost every day. What am I?”

Jokingly, she wants to say “Chat Noir” but their identities are known now, and she sees him every day (so, admittedly, it wouldn’t be that good of a joke). Then she looks up at the sky and she has her answer.

“The stars,” she whispers.

She’s not looking at him, but she can almost hear his smile widen. So she looks back to him, because she loves to see her kitty happy.

Sure enough, a grin — genuine, not forced — is playing on his lips. It’s human nature to copy social expressions, so she lets her mouth curve into a matching grin.

Then she leans in.

Their smiles fade as they inch closer, focused on the next task at hand. His gaze drops to her pink lips, and she stares into his eyes. She can see the thirst, the want, but she can also see his hesitance.

Experimentally, she pauses to see if he’ll close the gap, but he simply stops in accordance with her. She wants this so bad, but he’s very shy when it comes to romance; despite being so outwardly confident as Chat Noir.

He had told her that it was a mask to hide how scared he truly was. His advances towards her were genuine, although deep down, he was afraid of rejection (to which she will forever feel guilty for putting him through). He wanted to break his façade sometimes, but he chose not to for the sake of not worrying her. The media might have noticed his change in behavior, too; granted, he never cared what the public thought of him anyways.

So, to save them both the trouble, she takes the leap and closes the gap, capturing his lips in a fluid movement.

It’s pure ecstasy; electricity pulses through his veins, but at the same time… he’s calm. He’s not sure how to describe the feeling, in all honesty. It’s just perfect.

Well, not perfect, he corrects himself. Enjoyable, but not perfect.

They don’t move in perfect sync and his lips are chapped so she’s probably wondering why the heck are his lips so dry?and her mouth keeps opening and he isn’t sure if it’s a mistake or if he should do something but he’s not ready for the tongue yet, and so their heads are tilting at an awkward angle trying to make sense of the situation —

— but she smells like pastries and her lips are so soft and he can’t help but crack his eyes open because she is so beautiful in every single way oh my god I love her and nothing makes this better than cupping her face with his right hand and feeling just how smooth her skin is which calms him immensely and he just doesn’t want this to end.

When they finally pull away, with heavy breaths and big smiles, little giggles and red cheeks… he’s happy.

Maybe he’s not perfect. Neither is she. Nobody is, and Adrien is just starting to understand that.

Years of conditioning is hard to unlearn, but he is so grateful to have a support system he can count on. Marinette’s parents honorarily adopting him as one of their own, Doctor Benson offering coping mechanisms he hadn’t even known existed, his bodyguard protecting him from the  father  sperm donor he’s still afraid to talk to (one day soon, he’ll have to, but he’s planning on crossing that bridge when he gets there), Ms. Bustier’s unwavering faith in his abilities, and his friends’ insistence that he is more than enough — all of this support is overwhelming, to say the least, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Most importantly, there’s Marinette. She has been his rock for the past three years and it’s more true now than it ever was. She is family, in every sense of the word.

“Hey, Mari?” He says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Chaton?”

The nickname rolls off her tongue in a teasing manner, and he has to laugh.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

[inkdemonapologist]

Tfw it’s like 6am and your penpal shows up at your hotel room but he’s like partially a demon and also won’t stop smiling????

Hi again Allison we’re all Very Normal

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

ANYWAY HAVE SOME, OUT-OF-CONTEXT QUOTES for Session 6!!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[GM] You said you were there for... inSPECTION?? [Jack] In hindsight, that must've been a HECK of a Fast Talk considering half the group is in pyjamas.

[Henry] It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to sacrifice Henry.

[GM] *about Sammy's sacrifice attempts* He was very polite about it. [Sammy] Yeah, he was! [Henry] He was very polite, he gets points for politeness. [GM] And then he got yelled at, so unfairly! By someone. [Sammy] And then melted! So everyone was on the whole very rude about it. It's your own fault he's like this now.

[GM] We'll say it's ajar, how about that? [Joey] Oh, I thought it was a door.

[Sammy] You can spend Luck!! [Jack] Do I want to use Luck points, though? Here's the problem, I'm the person who finishes the JRPG with twelve thousand healing items, and has used TWO. [Sammy] Here's my counterargument: if your Luck gets really low, you start failing Luck checks, and bad things happen to your character. [Jack] ...that's a perfect counterargument, I'm going to do it.

[GM] You both spot the hat with the press card! Lying on the floor, over by one corner of the sliding doors. [Jack] Oh that's BETTER than taking sanity damage! [Sammy] EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!

[Joey] There's another jug of space juice. [Sammy] I don't want space juice!! I WANT PAINT.

[Henry] *tired* Hey, Sam. [Sammy] What providence, my little sheep! [Henry] ...Good to see you too.

[Sammy] Go into the other room and introduce yourself! [Joey] With two hats on. [Sammy] ASSERT DOMINANCE!

[Jack] Jack is going to take the hat. He's going to have, uh, at least one emotion. [Jack] Maybe more [Jack] Imagine

[Joey] Joey is immediately going to clamp his hand onto Sammy's shoulder, and ask him if he can feel it. [Sammy] UHHH? His... hand...? [Joey] Not-- No, the stone. [Sammy] OH

[Jack] Jack, how are you going to communicate this if one of your hands is taken up by a hat? [Joey] Interpretative dance! [Sammy] Put hat in elbow while writing, you can juggle stuff, [Henry] Put the hat on. Over your other hat.

[Sammy] Sammy will scurry with or without the sheep, but they are his navigation system, so,

[Joey] That is a place we are known to be by the people who tried to... murder us?? Or something. Snake us??????? [Jack] (Snurder.) [Joey] Snurder us.

[Henry] We're just gonna grab our stuff and head out and... let you finish dealing with the sNAKE, I guess!! [Jack] (the snake has already been dealt with!) [Henry] Okay, but the aftermath of the snake! The snaftermath.

[Sammy] In case we get grabbed by an Angel [Sammy] the much less well-liked sequel to Touched by an Angel,

[Sammy] You traitorous sheep, this is not what I asked you for! [Joey] Do you want to die. Is that what you’re interested in?! Just, sacrificing yourself, without doing the proper rituals, not getting anything done--?! [Sammy] What do you know of proper rituals?! [GM] (....quite a lot, actually,) [Joey] Yeah! Much more than you do! And I will make an intimidation roll! [Jack] Boys,... you’re both pretty,... it’s okay....

[Joey] We’re pretty sure there’s Angels.... does she know how to kill them. [Jack] What a first thing to—! No pleasantries, no “please excuse the fact that I’m grinning and have weird eyes and also Sammy has weird eyes and also I have a tail,”

[GM, speaking for Allison] She would like to know what all this is about! [Joey] We’re having problems— [Sammy] He tried to contain something that should not be contained!! [Joey] Shut up, Sammy! We’re having problems!

[Joey] Joey is just going to quickly explain that he.................... [Joey] *mumbling to himself* how do you explain this???

[Joey] Um... I guess he’s going to mentally ping Bendy and ask him how he would describe himself? Like... what was his job, I guess?? Security??? [GM] Bendy says that he’s an eldritch construct that was defending a cult... and now he is something else! That he doesn’t have a word for. [Jack] !! He’s a FRIEND now!!! [GM] He’s friend-shaped! But not at the moment. [Joey] No, right now he’s Joey-shaped.

[Sammy] I mean the whole body is garbage but you apparently want Sammy to wear clothes, so whatever.

[GM] Allison adds that she thinks she might have a connection to get you guys in to the party, if you need that -- [Joey] Wouldn't hurt! [GM] -- so long as you don't mind pretending to be the help! [Joey] ...hm,,,

[Joey] Admittedly, having two angles would be better than one. [GM] Two angels, what? [Sammy] There's an "I can be your angle or yuor devil" joke somewhere in this campaign...

[Sammy] Well, we've learned how to bind an angel, [Jack] Gotta teach the angel proper binding techniques!

[Sammy] Sammy will thank Allison for her help. [Joey] Oh god, there IS something wrong with him!

[Joey] Let's go get Norman tied up in this more! So we can hire him later!!

[Sammy] Jack over there like "I hope it doesn't taste bad" meanwhile Sammy's been grimacing as he swallows paint for the last two hours, [GM] Ink is much better, didn't you know! [Sammy] Ink is better... this tastes wrong... [Joey] I just really love the idea of Sammy longingly looking at Joey's flask like, "aw, you have the good medicine, mine tastes like the terrible cherry crap!"

[GM] So you all have shots with Allison! Space juice shots. [Jack] What a way to start the morning!

[Jack] These boys are gonna heckin' pass out! [GM] They got, what, maybe 3 hours of sleep? [Jack] And all of Jack's sleep last night was sat upright in bed, with his glasses on, surrounded by notes, [Henry] sounds like college [Jack] You're exactly right, Jack's sleep was exactly like college! He was stressed, he didn't sleep for very long, he was surrounded by notes, Pete was there,

[Joey] *saying farewell to Allison* Keep yourself safe; don't go out where we're going. [Joey] Unless we don't return, then pLEASE COME OUT AND FIND US,

[GM] Norman says, "Oh, I see you're back with your friends, Smiley." [Jack] I love the concept of Norman calling Sammy "Smiley," and then Prophet Sammy, in response to this, smiles, and Norman has no idea if this is like, weird? or some kind of strange power move to assert dominance.

[GM, as Norman] When I said I saw things happening on the 2nd, you're the one that went pale! [Joey] How's Prophet Sammy's cONCEPT OF TIME, [Sammy] Not great!!!! [Sammy] I don't think he... knows when the 2nd was.

[Sammy] Forgive my memory. That doesn’t ring a bell! [Joey] He's... a little affected right now. [Norman] ...you don't say...

[Joey] Listen. I have $75 here for you, to take us out to the lake, as soon as possible. [a couple minutes of googling later] [Jack] That's equivalent to $1,464. Joey. [Sammy] CAN YOU IMAGINE?? "We need you to take us to the lake please" "Alright, but explain to me what's going on?" "SORRY, the guy who said that is clearly HIGH OUT OF HIS MIND, here's A THOUSAND DOLLARS, take us to the lake please!" [Jack] its a trip to the lake, what could it cost, $75 [Joey] *laughing* I should've looked up how much money I was saying before I was saying it, [Sammy] No, no, I think this is accurate to JOEY DREW

[Henry] Henry is just watching everything happening... [Sammy] Henry is waiting for the next video game breadcrumb trail to show up. [Henry] YEAH, [Jack] “Oh! Looks like I need to put three gears in this thing!”

[Sammy] I'm so angry on Sammy's behalf that you've made him meet two different people like this.

[Joey] If he does ask for money later, Joey's going to give it to him, because he has no concept of.... money.... [Sammy] No concept of GIVING OUT ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS [Jack] Can Joey Drew meet me, in real life, please? [Joey] I don't know if you want that to happen,, that might be more of a curse,,, [Jack] I'll take a curse! Gimme money! [Sammy] vOICE OF EVERY JDS EMPLOYEE

[GM] And you've got suits, and dress shoes...... [Sammy] We are not dressed for this. [Sammy] ...We are more dressed for it than we were earlier. I promise you, Norman, this is a step up, believe it or not.

[Sammy] Probably making a face because it tastes bad. [Henry] Tastes like paint! [GM] The cab driver might just wonder if that's a new drink this year. [Sammy] If nobody jumped on top of Sammy to stop him from using his mouth, he would probably say something with vibes of "this is beyond your comprehension" [Joey] Joey might try to stop that, and instead just be like, “Yes. It is.” [Henry] He's high. Don't worry about it. [Jack] Driver's just like "oh, I should try some of that when I get off work, seems like a good time!" [Sammy] You should! It'll open your eyes! [Sammy] (I'll stop evangelising the cab driver now.)

[Henry] Henry is: Sims Tense Moodlet.

[Joey] Joey instantly does not like this, and it is apparent on his face, if Sammy can see it in the mist. [Sammy] Probably not! [Jack] You could say he mist it!

[Henry] We need to hurry—! [Sammy] *screaming* THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING!!!!!!

[Sammy] Sammy will be, sort of... whispering reassurance? I don't know how reassuring it actually is, [Henry] I'm sorry Sam, nothing about you is reassuring right now. [Sammy] Just kind of like, hush hush, come my sheep, that sort of thing, [Joey] Prophet ASMR Channel! [Jack] I'm sure Jack would appreciate this actually, it's a shame he's not the one getting this, [Joey] No, he's getting whatever comfort Joey can offer, which, uh, [Sammy] Well, and I will say, he's not like, whispering it in Henry's ear, like-- [Jack] I don't think Sammy in any form is capable of whispering. [Sammy] ...y'know [Sammy] that's fair

[Sammy] Well everyone's doing alright! We're doing great, it's going great! [Jack] Nooooo! No going great! I want more insanities! [Jack] ...I can stop at any time, I swear.

[Sammy] We can hold Norman's hand if you want, like, that's up to you. [Joey] Roll for gay, Norman! [Henry] Take him to dinner first,

[Sammy] This is such a bad idea that we're having.

[Joey] Joey is probably at this point holding onto someone else to guide him, and more in his head than not. [Sammy] Sammy's out of hands at this point, Joey, so you'll just have to figure this out. [Sammy] Got his hands full of sheep.

[Joey] Did Norman drink the juice. [GM] Did he...? Did he...... I think he was convinced enough by “this drink will save your life” that he does take a drink! [Joey] I'll roll intimidation if that helps! [GM] Yeah, you can roll to see how quickly he does it, or if he drinks enough of it. [Joey] *rolls* That's an EXTREME SUCCESS. [GM] Well, there we go; there's a preview, Norman, of your work environment!

[athys-obelia]

hey hey hey.

so like i had a thought?

au where felix notices how down diana is about her pregnancy and approaches her. she confides in him - she's afraid for her child, any complications with their health, their future, everything. the chance she is betting on is a good life for her child with their father, but...she cannot foresee the future, after all. diana has worries as any new mother would.

(under cut for length)

and after pondering on it, felix proposes an idea: what if he could garuntee this child's safety? diana had already expressed her will to make him their godfather, shouldn't he rise to the occasion? you should run away, he tells her, and spend the rest of your pregnancy at one of my father's estates.

she agrees, albeit hesitantly. he's been distancing himself from her - claude - ever since the pregnancy, but she visits him on her last night at the palace. it is a horrible night - all goodbyes are - and claude seems to sense something. he asks of her to spend the night, and diana can't find it within herself to reject the request. she'll just have to slip during at night, she thinks.

she spends her final trimester on robane lands, under the care and knowledge of felix's father as the knight spearheads the quiet search for the emperor's favorite concubine. she feels strangely at peace.

the search intensifies as her due date nears, and the week of athanasia's birth, everything...stops. duke robane explains the emperor cannot make the loss of an heir public knowledge, and has ordered the destruction of ruby palace. the concubines have been dismissed.

diana receives a special visit a few hours before going into labour - before her is a beautiful brunette with determined eyes. diana's body grows weaker by the day, she has been bedridden for the past few days, but she feels content. her child will be fine. so will her lover. claude may think her selfish after this, though she supposes if it can garuntee her baby's smile, she will accept it. she can be selfish if needed.

the obelian skies mirror the chaotic silence within the imperial palace. the young emperor has not made an appearance in the audience hall for days. his tailor has not received any orders for the usual military attire lately - rather, the instructions detail a simplistic, pure white fabric, as if...almost as if he were in mourning. the eerie calm seems to foreshow a storm.

and amidst the rain and thunder roaring across the empire, under the gaze of an ever loyal knight and a young lady, a princess is born quiet. her declining breaths reflect her mother's. "she has your eyes, my lady," says lilian york, "her father's beautiful colouring, but the strength is from you. the strength you have given her. she will live with power."

"and love?" the new mother asks weakly.

"lots," the knight swears. "a child borne of love deserves nothing less."

she is safe, my daughter - my daughter is...

Xx

by the end of the week, the imperial directory is edited at the command of his majesty, the emperor. a new name is added.

athanasia de alger obelia.

lilian york sighs at the babe in her arms. "the undying...what a cruel joke. his majesty can't possibly know whether lady diana or the little princess are still alive."

"no - it is the name lady diana expressed her partiality for," felix says with a slight smile, "it is a dare."

little athanasia groans.

Xx

athanasia de alger obelia - or, more commonly, athanasia robane - has seen many families. lilian does not what to say when the princess wonders why she cannot call her 'mother'. why she cannot address the men she believes to be her father and grandfather as such, why her grandfather refers to her as 'my lady'.

at the age of four, athanasia has stopped asking such questions. lilian cannot help but marvel at the way she avoids the topic with an intelligence that should realistically be far beyond her years.

athanasia's grandfather has made habit of asking her the same question as he tucks her in every night. "are you happy, my lady?"

she nods every time - it is such an obvious answer, after all. "athy is so happy, grandpapa! thiiiiis much!! why do you always ask that?"

her grandfather smiles. athy loves that her grandfather smiles so much. "i come from a family of knights, my lady. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

"did you promise someone you would keep me happy, grandpapa?"

duke robane raises an amused eyebrow. "aren't you chatty today? get some sleep, sweet one. i will be here in the morning."

he always is.

xx

duke robane tends to frequent the palace often. today, however, is a special day.

"were you on your way to the hall?" the emperor inquires, running into the red haired noble on his walk.

he bows in greeting. "i was not. i did not wish to bother you today, your majesty. i know you do not like to be disturbed during this time of year."

claude rather likes duke robane. he is relatively tolerable, like an older, wiser version of felix. "then what are doing outside the palace?"

"i was on my way to town, your majesty, with a... family member. her birthday is arriving soon, you see, but she was quite taken with your beautiful gardens, so i let her wander outside - i wouldn't dare allow her inside without your majesty's approval, of course."

claude raises an eyebrow. "a family member?"

"my granddaughter, sire."

claude glances at felix curiously. "i was not aware of this... development. how many children are you fathering when you're not bothering me?"

felix snorts.

"er...a foster granddaughter, your majesty."

"i do not see her here. i assume she is felix's current heir, is she not? i should be offended you have not introduced us."

"she is playing a game, sire," duke robane explains, "she has gone to hide and i am to find her. it is called hide and seek, as i am told."

he winces at the familiar voice calling out, "grandpapa!! look at this shiny flowe-"

little athanasia's face pales.

"my lady, meet his majesty, the emperor of the Obelian empire."

the blonde princess clutches her grandfather's sleeve. "from... from athy's books?"

felix cannot tear his gaze away from the emperor's face - or rather, the jewelled eyes that stare at his goddaughter.

claude could laugh. that face, even with her eyes matching the prominent robane silvery eyes...felix must really take him for an idiot, he thinks. really, he should be offended. he remembers putting felix in charge of the search years ago... lying to the emperor? disguising a member of the imperial family to pass off as their own? in what land would this not be a crime?

still, this...this 'athy' looks happy. or looked happy, before she saw him. only a fool would grow to be jovial in the palace, so claude wonders whether thank you may be in order for keeping his child so cheery.

then again, this said under the assumption that he would've kept the child alive in the first place.

claude glances at duke robane - the man is usually so poised, he thinks he'll have some fun while this little charade is up.

"what is your name?" he asks blankly.

the duke interjects, "we call her athy, sire. the name athena truly fits her - she is a very bright child."

ah, interesting...felix's father seems to both be smarter and care for the girl more than claude initially credited him.

"hide and seek," claude muses, barely making an effort to hide his smirk, "so, you've finally decided to come out of hiding."

Xx

"i was on my way to the lake. get ready to join me."

duke robane glances at five year old athanasia - she had been called to the palace for tea with the emperor once, after which their little tea parties became something of a common occurrence. he had faced hell and beyond trying to keep it under wraps - at least felix's position as the emperor's guard was a comfort.

"your majesty, forgive me, but the lady hasn't learnt to swim. i fear it may be dangerous."

athanasia shoots him a look - don't argue with the emperor, grandpapa!

"what's there to worry about when she's with me?" claude asks, eyebrow quirked, "besides. the three of you should be quite used to playing dangerous games by now."

felix sputters. "your, your majesty?"

yes, dealing with house robane is much more entertaining than roger alpheus could hope to be...

"what was it? hide and seek. your daughter could get lost, isn't that sort of thing very dangerous?"

athanasia raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, as felix flushes red. claude finds himself wondering - not for the first time - what goes inside her head? it's not uncommon for this child of five to react with the maturity of an adult, intriguingly.

"lets go, uncle!" she exclaims, offering him her hand as he's seen the duke and felix hold it often. she interwined her fingers with his once he accepts her hand. so small, it is. small and soft, as if he could crush her with the littlest force.

claude stares at her platinum blonde hair, a hint of a smile playing on his features. "robane has gotten quite daring lately. of course, a bold house will raise a bold child."

Xx

"grandpapa?"

duke robane glances at the blonde in his doorway - how out of place her bright hair had once looked, bouncing around in contrast to the rich, deep browns and reds of the robane mansion. the estate seems to lose life whenever his foster granddaughter visits the palace, now. as per their little custom, she visits him in his study at her return. "my lady. come."

"i have to greet lily soon or she'll get mad. she hates when i meet you without being dressed for it. but i really wanted to see grandpapa." she grins brightly, and he thinks her smile is the gods compensating for the moon's quiet glow. the princess takes her place on his lap. "what are you doing, grandpapa?"

"there's some trouble at the border. i'm only looking over our damages, i'll be done soon."

athanasia's grandpapa has never once dismissed her questions claiming she's too young. he's never withheld knowledge she's asked for. sure, he makes it so the terms are easier for her to understand, but she's never been out of the loop. "how has the emperor been to you, sweet one?"

"i almost called him daddy today," she admits, feeling her grandfather's hand on her shoulder tighten.

"oh?"

athanasia chuckles. "well, that's a lie. i did call him that. but...he seemed okay with it."

"truly?"

"yeah! he's so odd. he even told me i should stop wearing so much red and black."

"what did you say to that?" the duke asks.

"i told him they were my house colours, obviously. i can't just stop wearing my house colours! he said purple suits me better. i mean, if i was his daughter or something i could wear a lot of purple. it's the imperial family's colour, isn't it?"

he clears his throat. "...you were at the palace for the entire day, my dear, weren't you bored?"

"not really. oh! i met a magician today too."

"a magician?"

"mhm! everyone at the palace is so weird, honestly. apparently he's been sleeping there ever since emperor aeternitas? i don't know, he was really strange."

"emperor aeternitas? from nearly two hundred years ago? what else do you remember about this mage, my lady?"

she presses her finger to her chin. "to tell you the truth, grandpapa, he was very pretty. like...really pretty."

athanasia's grandfather gives her a smile she has learnt to be vary of. "are you interested in this magician, my child? i don't mind extending an invitation for the pair of you to become better acquainted."

"grandpapa! when will you stop trying to become a matchmaker?"

duke robane sighs playfully. "i'm only thinking of your future, my lady. your debutante is not too far - you will need an escort to dance the night away with."

she pouts. "i can dance with you, grandpapa."

he chuckles, and the silence stretches until athanasia breaks it once more, murmuring a soft, "no."

"no?" her grandfather echoes, confused.

"that's a 7," she says, pointing towards the document he's been working on. "not 3, that was last time. grandpapa told me the border towns have a larger population now, so that needs to be factored in, doesn't it?"

duke robane studies the calculation, the surprise evident in his sharp features. "hm?...you're right, thank you."

she grins. "i've been working on my sums lately! aren't you proud of me, grandpapa?"

"always, sweet one. you're very smart to be at this level so young."

athanasia beams. "i mean, you taught me everything so it's almost like you're praising yourself, you know?" her grandfather laughs at that, the sound deep and familiar. "anyway, are these real gold? they're very pretty." she gestures towards a box of earrings resting on her grandfather's desk.

"they were your mother's," the duke tells her, feeling the girl stiffen. "i planned to give them to you at your return."

"they're very...siodonnan," she remarks almost awkwardly. "very pretty."

"she wanted you to have them. apparently they were a gift."

"oh."

he confirms with a slight chuckle, "they are gold, authentic. that fascinates you, doesn't it? you've always been quite taken with shiny things, ever since you were a child. your grandfather was like that too, athanasia."

"you're like that?"

the duke of house robane blinks in surprise once. then twice.

Xx

felix stares at the eleven year old in the emperor's bed. blonde hair spilled all over the pillows, her frail body hidden under the covers. how...?

he hadn't registered the passage of time at all. the emperor's index and middle fingers rest on athanasia's forehead, his own creased in concentration and annoyance. felix can't even help the fury building within himself.

"your majesty," he begins cautiously - claude has been a wild card ever since watching his daughter cough up blood at the breakfast table. the massacre everyone was on edge about eleven years ago at ruby palace would've been inevitable yesterday had athanasia's childhood friend - the mage - not arrived as early as he had. "you should rest."

claude's gaze turns to him dangerously. "do not tell me to rest when-"

the girl stirs uncomfortably, her eyes opening. she glances at felix before tugging on her father's sleeve weakly. "papa...?" tears prick at the corner of the young princess's eyes.

oh, that's right - felix remembers his father having the talk with the princess a few months ago. she had accepted the new information quietly, and rather quickly, to the both robane mens' surprise. the princess had started bringing her father flowers on her visits from then, and as if in return, claude had an entire garden in built where ruby palace would've been.

the emperor's hand returns to his daughter's forehead and she blinks sleepily a few times before drifting right back to sleep. the magic has long worn off - neither father nor daughter had flinched at the sight of her shimmering blue eyes. if anything, felix had seen claude's shoulders relax.

the emperor lets out a small sigh. "i will not be here when she wakes." he traces the soft collar of her purple nightgown. "and should she consent, see to it that athanasia moves into emerald palace by the end of the month. she has been fostered long enough."

oh, his father would definitely not like that.

Xx

"are you mad, papa?" athanasia asks, the sequins of her debutante dress glittering bright u der the lights of the hall..

"why would i be? did someone dare say something to y-"

she latches onto his arm before her father has a chance to finish. "no! nobody could dare offend me on my debut. especially when i have you by my side."

"then you do you ask?"

she plays with the intricate patterns on the arm of his outfit. "because i refused to move in with you? trust me, papa, i didn't mean to hurt you at all...i was only..." scared. it was at the debutante, wasn't it? when you chose jennette over the real athy.

"it was simply your choice," the emperor tells her flatly. "and i seem to recall you delaying it. not refusing."

athanasia laughs sheepishly. "that's right. i don't want to force myself into your life. i really love our time together though, papa."

her breath hitches as claude halts in his step. his hand raises to her jawline, thumb brushing against against her earrings. "where...? where did you..."

"papa? do you need to sit down?"

it does the trick, snapping her father out of whatever trance he had been under.

"won't you dance again? i'll be here," he encourages, and athanasia nods. she's shared one with her godfather, one with ezekiel alpheus...

"what are you doing here, your highness?" duke robane inquires, separating himself from his conversation partners.

"won't you dance with me, grandpapa?"

the duke can't help but smile at the way she addresses him. "you were escorted by his majesty, sweet one. why do you wish to spend your precious time with this lowly servant?"

"grandpapa!"

he sighs with a fond smile. "alright, alright. but even dancing with fathers is out of fashion nowadays, princess. and you're here, asking me?"

she frowns, unimpressed. "i think you don't want to dance because you're so tall. are you calling me unskilled?"

he gives her a charming smile. "how could i dare?"

"don't you remember, grandpapa? in your study?" she extends her hand with a familiar smirk, "i come from a family of knights, my lord. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

and really, when has duke robane ever been able to refuse his granddaughter?

a/n: literally what is this. why is this. when i say i only meant to write a drabble-

but!! duke robane never hesitates in standing up for his granddaughter, even against the emperor! athy and found family!! honestly i love the dukes' conflict here - alpheus with jennette and robane with athy :)

claude and his subtle shade 🙃

lily and the robanes honoring their promise to diana and teaching athy both love and strength <3

the magic explosion thing happened much later, and with slightly different claude/athy dynamics - he certainly can't take her presence for granted, she doesn't doesn't even live with him yet (she wants to!! the insecurities around jennette are just acting up rn)

athy will have support during amnesia arc + ana's antics!!!