#he’s presumably since learned her name and just hasn’t said it out loud yet but he definitely didn’t learn it during that first storyline | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow.

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek.

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.”

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.”

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all.

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound.

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?�� You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

2K notes · View notes

kenbunshokus · 3 years

Text

eggnemies to lovers

nami/vivi, zoro/sanji | 7k words (best viewed on: ao3)

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

(Or, the one where Sanji is a diner cook, Vivi is their waitress, and Zoro and Nami accidentally became each other’s wingman.)

Zoro glares at his plate as if his omelette has just challenged him to a duel. Nami tries her best to focus on the map she’s working on—this one’s a particularly difficult homework from her Intro to Coastal Navigation class—and pointedly does not look up.

“Holy shit,” Zoro mutters under his breath, poking at the offending egg, “Nami, I swear—”

“We are not having this conversation again—”

“I told you,” Zoro plows on, “that fucking cook is doing this on purpose.”

Nami takes a deep breath. Cartography is a delicate art, and Nami aims to be a professional. She takes her favorite pencil and elegantly traces over the coastline of Cocoyashi Village, poised and collected and calm. She’s not going to take the bait and ruin her map, no matter how much Zoro is sulking over an egg—

She sighs. “Zoro, I’m pretty sure there’s just been some mix-up with the orders.”

Zoro huffs at that, clearly disbelieving. “For the third time this week?”

“This isn’t exactly a five-star establishment,” she points out, and adds, reasonably, calmly, in an attempt to find some semblance of peace, “I doubt the cook of some no-name diner even knows your name.”

The words seem to have brought about the opposite effect, because now there’s a dangerous glint in Zoro’s eyes as he mutters, “well, he’s about to find out,” before standing up and shamelessly yelling, “ OI! COOK! ”

Nami drives the pencil through her map.

r/relationship_advice

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

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My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.

submitted 6 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

I know this sounds really weird, but here it is:

This guy and I have been on a couple of dates. We’d been friends long before we started trying this going out thing, so he isn’t a total stranger to me, and I’ve long known him as a pretty calm guy. Chimes in once a week in the group chat, grunts a lot during conversations, you know — one of those quiet, meditating types. He’s only competitive when it comes to his favorite sport (he’s a professional kendo athlete), but other than that he tends not to care about what other people think about him. I’ve never seen him respond to anyone’s taunts or getting worked up by a stranger’s words.

Except at Baratie.

Any time we’re out he wants to go to this diner called Baratie down in Grand Line. I don’t really care about the food, but the tables there are big enough for me to do work (Maritime Science major here—lots of stationeries and large maps to work with). But that became impossible once he and this one cook started chirping at each other every time we went there. Date complained about his eggs one time, because he likes them a little runny and they were served hard. The cook responded by giving him scrambled eggs. When he brought it up again, the cook served him two hardboiled eggs. It was kind of funny to be honest, but my date wasn’t able to laugh it off. When we left, he was in a bad mood.

This is the crazy part: he keeps going back.

In fact, he keeps going back and ordering eggs and getting into fistfights with the same cook. It’s almost a ritual at this point. He orders runny eggs, the cook serves him some other version of eggs, and then they beat the shit out of each other. We never eat out at any other places now; it’s just Baratie every fucking week. Sometimes he even goes there without me.

I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he keeps saying it’s a matter of principle. I’ve told him to just talk to the manager, but he just waved me off. Apparently that cook hasn’t yet made him the correct runny eggs, but it’s like he spends the week learning new ways of preparing eggs to piss my date off.

My question is — this is weird, right? Like, I’m not really concerned about the fighting part — he’s never been physical with me and I never once felt threatened by him — but what’s with the obsession ? They’re just eggs, aren’t they?

Is this indicative of something deeper? Should I reconsider going exclusive with this guy?

When Nami looks up from her map this time, Zoro has already stalked off to the kitchen. This isn’t new or remarkable in any way, except the fact that he almost ran into one of the waitresses, who immediately clutched her tray against her chest and watched his retreating back warily.

Zoro didn’t even spare her a glance. What a brute. Nami’s going to add to his debt later for that.

“Hey,” Nami calls out towards the waitress, waving at her to come by her table, “I’m sorry, uh…”

“Vivi,” the waitress fills in with a polite smile.

“Right, Vivi—I’m Nami,” Nami replies, finding herself nervous all of a sudden, because up close like this, holy fuck is the waitress so pretty, with long blue hair and silver-sharp eyes. Nami clears her throat. “Uh, I just want to say sorry about his—his whole deal with your Cook. Zoro—that’s his name—he’s usually really chill, so I don’t know what’s happening here.”

Vivi thankfully chuckles at that, seemingly finding the situation more hilarious than threatening. Good. There’s also something about that laughter that makes Nami feel like she’s fourteen again, full of butterflies and all too small for everything, but she tries not to think too hard about that yet.

“In your friend’s defense,” Vivi says, “Sanji is usually really good with memorizing orders, so he’s totally messing with your friend on purpose.”

As if on cue, the cook’s voice—Sanji’s—rings out from the kitchen. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, MOSSHEAD, I TOLD YOU THE KITCHEN’S OFF LIMITS FOR CUSTOMERS —”

Nami finds herself laughing with Vivi. “You know, it’s actually impressive that Zoro doesn’t get lost on his way to the kitchen anymore.”

Vivi raises her eyebrow. “Nami, the kitchen door is right there.”

“It’s Zoro,” Nami presses, because it’s always fun to see strangers learn about Zoro’s disastrous relationship with directions and maps for the first time. “One time, during our junior high sports festival, he got lost on the running track. For a hundred-meter race .”

That earns her another laugh from Vivi as she takes a seat beside Nami, body leaning forward in curiosity, “really? Is he short-sighted or something? Can’t he just—I don’t know, literally see the finish line?”

“Here’s the thing you need to know about Zoro,” Nami begins, and watching the way Vivi’s soft hair falls over the slope of her shoulder, bright blue and blinding despite the dim lighting of the diner, Nami somehow can’t find it in herself to be mad at Zoro anymore.

u/salveshine • 492 points 6 months ago

This seems like an obvious question, but I have to ask: have you considered going somewhere else for your dates? Most people don’t go to a diner for dates in the first place.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 23 points 6 months ago

Well, as I said on the original post, it’s downright an obsession at this point. Asking him to go somewhere else doesn’t solve the problem since he’d just go there on his own on a different day.

Also, the waitress there is nice. She’s been keeping me company throughout this whole thing. She’s a godsend.

Vivi appears by her table as soon as Zoro disappears into the kitchen.

“Again?” Vivi asks by way of greeting.

“Again,” Nami agrees, scooting to the side of her bench to give Vivi space to sit. “It’s eggs benedict this time. Perfectly poached. I went to this fancy restaurant a few weeks ago, and they didn’t even make it this good.”

Somewhere from what presumably is the kitchen, Zoro’s frustrated voice echoes throughout the whole diner. “Now you’re not even serving me eggs anymore!”

“What are you—“ there is a moment of stunned silence before Sanji‘s reply comes, equally loud, dripped with utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? You thought this wasn’t made of—you’ve never seen scotch eggs before?”

“SHUT UP,” Zoro yells back.

Nami cranes her neck out of instinct, wishing to catch a glimpse of the scene from the window behind the counter—she’s never heard Zoro sounding so flustered before—but Vivi’s voice, small and low and far from the confident tone Nami has started to get used to, pulls her attention back.

“I’m sorry.”

It takes another moment before the words fully register in her brain. “Wh—for what?”

“I mean,” Vivi says, twiddling with her fingers as she mumbles, “this is supposed to be your date.”

“My date?” The question already falls out of her mouth before she realizes, oh. Oh. This is supposed to be a date, because her and Zoro are…well. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that part—they’re certainly not acting the part, considering they’re hanging out with other people during these ‘dates’. Nami understands, rationally, that she should be mad about this; and yet— “It’s fine. I’m not that bothered.”

Vivi blinks. “You’re not?”

“Nah,” Nami says, waving her hand dismissively, feeling as surprised as Vivi looks. “Well, when it comes down to it, it’s still free food, you know? Could’ve been better—no offense, but a family diner isn’t exactly date material—but considering the menu and ingredients you guys have to work with? Sanji’s practically been making feasts fit for royalty here.”

“Well, I still think you deserve to be treated better during a date,” Vivi crosses her arms and—is that a pout on her face? “Don’t you feel a bit lonely?”

“No?” Nami replies, taken aback. That’s literally the furthest thing on her mind, because— “I have you, don’t I?”

Nami feels her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth, because that sounded way more presumptuous than she intended. She meant to say, I have you to keep me company , like a friend , in a totally friend platonic way. Except they were talking about dates in a decidedly very romantic way and she should totally take it back—

Vivi beams at that, the kind that makes her look like she’s glowing inside her skin, and never mind, Nami’s not taking it back. Nope. She’s never taking it back even if someone’s paying her a million berries to take it back.

Vivi takes Nami’s hand from the table and holds it in both of her own, and Nami’s heart trips in her chest.

“Yeah,” Vivi says, the words sending a low hum under Nami’s ribcage. “Yeah, you have me.”

/u/mettlemental • 301 points 5 months ago

This is their ritual. Do not interfere.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 279 points 5 months ago

You know what, I think you have a point. This thing between me and the waitress is also a ritual now, so we’re even.

“Shishishi!” Luffy laughs, eyes practically sparkling. “Sanji is so cool!”

“No he’s not!” Zoro pinches Luffy by the cheek to try to drag him away from Sanji. “I brought you here to defend me!”

“But Sanji’s the one making me delicious meat right now,” Luffy pouts, seemingly unperturbed by the potential disfigurement of his own face, gaze still rooted on Sanji—or, more specifically, the food Sanji is carrying on a tray. “What can you make, Zoro?”

Sanji lights up his cigarette, expression hidden behind his hands, but his whole body visibly puffs up like a peacock. Nami notices how the tips of his ears have turned red. “Finally, someone with taste.”

Zoro tries to grab the tray away from Sanji’s hand, and Nami watches Vivi masterfully maneuver between the messy cacophony of the trio, placing a tall stack of waffles in front of Chopper.

“This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, his words nowhere near convincing, considering he’s saying it with the largest grin Nami has ever seen on a fourteen-year-old. “Did Sanji make this one, too?”

“He did,” Vivi says as she takes a seat beside Nami, as she always does. The table settles into a comfortable silence as Chopper digs into his waffles and Vivi absentmindedly plays with the salt shaker, observing the idiot trio from a distance.

“They sure get along fast,” Nami says as she takes out her cartography tools, and Vivi’s gaze sweeps between Luffy, Chopper, and the maps on the table.

“You’re not even trying to have a date anymore, aren’t you,” she points out.

“Nope,” Nami agrees, gesturing to Chopper with her pencil. “Chopper here wanted to try the waffle for a long time ever since I told him all about Sanji.”

“Please tell Sanji I love it!” Chopper adds around a mouthful of sugar.

“And Luffy’s been really curious about you two anyways.”

One table away, Luffy took the last bite of whatever meal Sanji just served, and dramatically announces, “this one’s better than the last one!”

“You always say that after every plate,” Sanji mumbles, but shoves another plate towards the kid anyways, clearly preening from the praises.

“It wasn’t even that good,” Zoro adds desperately, and scowls when Sanji chooses to watch Luffy eat another serving with the same gusto like he did the first one. “Oi—don’t ignore me, Shit Cook!”

It’s...fascinating. Nami never had a habit of watching Zoro—those activities are reserved for those fangirls in their university who barely know him—but she finds herself unable to look away whenever they’re at the Baratie. Whenever he’s with Sanji, to be precise. The chef seems to have brought out so many different sides of Zoro she’s never seen before in all the years she’s known him, and that’s saying a lot, considering she’s known Zoro for a decade.

Zoro has always been a steady presence in her and Luffy’s life ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was shy of turning ten; he is strong-willed and loyal and eternally dependable, like a safe place they can always come back to. He can be a little hard to read, quiet and reserved as he is, but these days Nami knows where to look, the telltales hidden in the way he straightens his back and carries himself.

But with Sanji, Zoro is—he’s all those things still, sure. But he’s also— so much more. There’s suddenly this— kid, lively and boyish and so, so easy to read. Open book, heart on his sleeve. He grins and yells and throws his punches, and Sanji would take them in stride and return them as easily. This Zoro pouts when Sanji doesn’t pay him attention, and scowls when he does; and when Sanji makes him laugh, it’s a loud, open thing.

Sometimes it feels as if the Zoro she knew was an impostor all along. As if there was a pale imitation of Roronoa Zoro with a ghost of a smile, and he’d only come alive in the middle of a fucking diner.

And the worst part of it all is—

“You two?” Vivi suddenly mumbles, seemingly to herself.

Nami tilts her head. “Yeah?”

“You were saying something about Luffy being curious about… us two ,” Vivi says. There’s an odd, pensive look on her face. “Are you talking about Sanji and…”

“You, of course!” Nami cuts in, perplexed.

“You told your friends about me?” Vivi wonders, and it’s baffling. Of course Nami told her friends about Vivi. Sometimes Nami thinks Vivi is all she could talk about. She’s hilarious and smart and a thousand times more interesting to talk about than Sanji and Zoro combined.

That’s a really weird thing to suddenly spring on someone though, so Nami instead says, “Vivi, you’re the best thing about these weekly visits, because that sure as hell isn’t.”

She’s pointing at the dumbass trio; somewhere along the way, Luffy has seemed to fall asleep, and Sanji is smiling at the boy’s sleeping form, looking very pleased with himself. Zoro is fuming behind him, arms crossed and chest puffed, like a child being forced to share his favorite toy.

Vivi laughs at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, boys will be boys.”

The words bury itself uncomfortably in the pit of Nami’s stomach.

Boys will be boys—which is why sometimes (oftentimes, many times, always) Nami thinks she’s much more easily enamored with girls. Nami supposes there is a certain charm in Zoro’s brutish ways, but she’s beginning to learn that it may not be for her—Nami appreciates people who can hold their own in a fistfight, but there is also strength in reigning yourself in despite the circumstances, the way she’s seen Vivi handle difficult customers with a firm tone, graceful and dangerous at the same time.

(What could this mean, then? For her, for them—)

Zoro and Sanji have started fighting animatedly again. Roronoa Zoro, his heart on his sleeve.

And the worst part is that Nami doesn’t even care.

/u/sorcatarius • 334 points 4 months ago

I usually appreciate it when OP updates their posts with recent developments because I’m one of those people who get easily invested in a stranger’s life story, but is it just me or do all of these updates seem irrelevant? Most of them are about the waitress. I feel like I’m learning nothing about the actual date here. Who’s dating who again?

/u/NeonRain15• 137 points 4 months ago

OP is clearly a troll lol.

They are sitting at a corner table in front of the door to the kitchen, because Franky and Robin aren’t even pretending they’re here for the food instead of a show. Usopp told them he would rather ‘see where the danger is coming from ’, but Nami suspects the real reason is something closer to morbid curiosity.

Nami doesn’t fault them. It certainly is hard to look away from what those two clowns are currently doing: Zoro is waving a spatula and a frying pan like he would his kendo swords, clearly breaking several kitchen-related OSHA rules in the process; Sanji puts out his cigarette against the counter—seriously, has nobody here heard of proper kitchen etiquette—and swings his leg in a drop kick.

There’s a loud CLANK as his shoe comes into contact with the pan.

Franky whistles. “That’s super awesome, bro!” He cheers, before turning back to the table with a lower voice, “Seriously, how have they not fired Sanji-bro already?”

“Other than the fact that he’s overqualified as hell?” Usopp asks in between spoonfuls of Sanji’s fried rice.

“Well, they do provide a wonderful source of entertainment for us customers,” Robin observes.

“Sure thing,” Franky replies, “but they’re totally destroying kitchen appliances right now, I mean, look at that roller. There’s no way any normal wood could withstand that —there it goes.”

“Let them be—what’s the worst that could happen?” Robin muses. “Other than a kitchen accident that leads to a gas explosion and the restaurant burning down to the ground, obliterating all of us in the process, of course.”

“Robin,” Usopp squeaks.

Inside the kitchen, the tables have turned—Sanji has somehow regained possession of his kitchen appliances, and he’s now teaching Zoro how to cook. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent over the stove, and Sanji would occasionally wrap his hand around Zoro’s wrist to instruct him.

Zoro looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust. His eyes are darting between Sanji’s hands (still lightly gripping Zoro’s wrist), Sanji’s face (dangerously close to Zoro’s own), and Sanji’s lips (there’s something there, something he wants to do and Nami knows if she thinks hard enough she can put a name on it) —anywhere but the food they’re actually cooking. Zoro’s own face is now redder than the tomatoes lining up the kitchen counter.

Heart on his sleeve, Nami thinks. Open book, open book.

“I’m going to get some refills,” she announces, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding on something private and practically leaps towards the soda station. She could feel a pair of curious eyes on her back—Robin’s, no doubt—but she’s more distracted by another presence currently standing beside her.

“Hey,” Vivi says, voice light, teasing. She’s carrying a lot of cups on her, presumably the others’, and she bumps her shoulder against Nami’s playfully. Nami could feel the touch fizzle against her skin.

“Hey,” Nami replies, trying to pretend that the close proximity doesn’t bother her at all. “‘Sup?”

Vivi wordlessly helps her with the drinks, and they easily fall into comfortable silence, filling cups after cups, until Vivi nudges her again. “You know, Usopp was right about Sanji being overqualified.”

Nami fills Franky’s cup slower, wondering where the conversation is going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know, I have a secret,” Vivi says, tone playful, but when Nami looks up there’s something in her eyes. “Actually, I own this place.”

Nami stops filling the cup. “What?”

“I mean, it’s mostly on loan, and I’m not halfway done with the payments, but technically, yeah,” Vivi says, tucking her hair to the back of her ear in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t really want to tell anyone because it’s not like I wanted a special treatment from the patrons. And I am effectively a waitress here.”

Nami is suddenly reminded of all the instances when she called Baratie a no-name diner right to Vivi’s face, and feels her stomach sink. Holy shit, she called it a dumpster fire just last week.

Vivi must have noticed Nami’s mental breakdown, because she quickly waves her hand and laughs. “No, no, don’t worry about it—I know we’re still a work in progress. Especially ever since—”

Vivi trails off at that, suddenly looking unsure. She starts collecting all the cups, like she’s giving Nami a reason to back out of the conversation. “It’s kind of a boring life story, actually, I’m sorry for dumping that all to you out of the blue—”

“Vivi,” Nami says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t usually do this; she knows, better than most, how heavy one’s past could be, and she hates it when people try to pry into hers. But Vivi is looking at her with sad eyes and unsteady hands, and suddenly Nami wants nothing other than to tell her, “I’ll drop this if you don’t want to talk about it, but remember this: I will always want to know more about you.”

She places her hand on Vivi's arm, for emphasis. “I will always want to support you.”

It takes a moment before her words sink in, and Nami could see the moment it does, Vivi’s eyes widening in surprise as her face breaks into a slow-starting smile. “Thank you, Nami,” she whispers, and it’s almost reverent.

Nami’s gaze falls onto Vivi’s lips, and suddenly it’s become very difficult to maintain a conversation.

She wonders how she’d look now, to an outsider. Flushed face and a stupid smile on her face, hands fidgeting with her own hair. Open book, open book . Could they hear, she wonders, the way her heart is hammering against her ribcage—would they find out—

Robin claps her hands together, snapping Nami out of her reverie. The whole group is already standing by the door, waiting for her, and god, how long have they been talking by the soda station again?

“Perhaps we can take the drinks another day. Time to go home, don’t you think?” Robin suggests. Her tone is light, but her gaze is heavy, and Nami has to resist the urge to curl into herself.

Zoro still stares at the kitchen, oblivious to the tension. “Yeah,” he says, almost in a daze. “ Shit — yeah.”

Shit, indeed.

/u/Lanzifer• 975 points 5 months ago

This is a love story.

/u/nashdezus • 307 points 3 months ago

I hate to break it to you but I think your boyfriend is in love with the cook. If this is fake you have written one of the greatest gay romances of this generation, if this isn’t fake I dunno what.

/u/ParkNight • 399 points 3 months ago

Your BF needs to cut to the chase and invite the cook over to your place for some eggs and rough sex.

/u/Cod3Man • 760 points 4 months ago

He has a crush on the cook & vice versa but they’re both living a lie so they fight because it’s the only way to release the sexual tension. Every different way of cooking an egg represents a different sex act.

/u/jakubada • 523 points 3 months ago

Girl, not to wish ill will on your relationship, but you should bang that waitress instead.

“Have you ever heard of Baroque Works?”

Nami pauses. She places her pencil away, knowing that Vivi deserves nothing less than her full attention.

It’s only been a couple of days since the conversation she had with Vivi, but Nami can’t get her mind off of it. She’s been coming to Baratie every single day now after college, and it’s just so convenient that Zoro suddenly refuses to go. It’s simply harder to have Vivi open up when someone else is around, and not because there are other reasons. Like wanting Vivi all to herself. No sire.

She shakes herself out of the dangerous train of thoughts. “Baroque Works? Isn’t that the new restaurant chain down the block? It’s the one that’s taken over that other chain, right? Uh, what was it called—”

“Alabasta,” Vivi supplies, before sighing. “That’s the chain my family used to own.”

Nami blinks. “Wait, you used to own Alabasta?”

Running a diner on her own at her age is already an impressive feat in and of itself, but Alabasta is a whole different beast. It’s a nation-wide chain with dozens of restaurants, and owning the chain is probably equivalent to owning a small empire.

“Oh, no, I mean, my family did,” Vivi quickly adds, ever humble. “It’s not exactly anything impressive. My grandfather ran the business before my father did, and his father was the one who started it—it was passed down the generations, and I was simply born into it.

“As you said, Alabasta went down a few years ago because my father struck a bad deal with a ruthless businessman. It is clear now, in hindsight, that Crocodile was tricking us, but we were naive and perhaps a little too eager to expand. Baroque Works took over, and we were left with the only branch they deemed the least profitable—here.”

“And you renamed it to Baratie?”

“That was Sanji’s idea,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips; it is clearly a much fonder memory than what that businessman—Crocodile—did to her and her family. “At the time, Sanji just moved to Grand Line. His father had a restaurant back in East Blue with the same name, and he told me he would help me build everything back from the ground up. We would borrow the name, acting like we’re a branch of Baratie, and I can rename it back to Alabasta once I can settle all the legalities with Baroque Works.”

Everything slowly falls into place now—the way Sanji is clearly trained to cook dishes much more sophisticated than waffles and scrambled eggs, the freedom he gets to be able to mess around with Zoro, and his close camaraderie with Vivi.

Nami feels a pang of—god, jealousy, if she dares to put a name on it—towards Sanji; for being able to stand by Vivi’s side when she needed it the most. It’s silly, because Sanji has always been kind to her, and it’s not like it was Sanji’s fault that Nami didn’t know Vivi until recently, but the feeling gripped her like a vice anyway, heavy and suffocating.

Vivi seems to have taken her silence wrongly, though, because she looks away, almost shamefully. “You must think this is all stupid.”

“Of course not,” Nami immediately retorts without missing a beat. She thinks of Bellemere, holding her head high despite the judgments from the neighbors. She was alone and penniless, countless doors slammed close in her face just because she was a single mother; but none of that stopped Bellemere from sending Nojiko and Nami to the best school in the neighborhood

So Nami tells Vivi what she has always wanted to tell Bellemere, and what she knows to be true of Vivi, of any women in her life who has never backed down from adversity— “You’re amazing.”

Vivi blinks, cheeks coloring at the words. It takes her a moment before she can reply with a shaky, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Vivi, you’re—” Nami turns her body to face Vivi fully, grabbing her by the arms, “—you’re the strongest, most hard-working person I’ve ever known. Most people in your shes would’ve turned tails and run.”

Vivi flushes further. It’s the first time Nami has seen her flustered, really cute, actually. And the fact that Nami is the one who put that expression on her face —

“Are we intruding on something?”

Nami almost jumps from her seat, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, getting caught with her hand halfway into the cookie jar. Vivi is scrambling to her feet from her side, cleaning imaginary dust from her uniform as she stammers, “no, of course not! I’m sorry, sir—sirs , can I take your order?”

Nami looks up to see Jinbe laugh and wave at her, signaling her to calm down. Brook is standing right behind him, giving Nami a small wave. “What do you serve?”

Nami tries to return to her map as Vivi starts rattling off the menu, but Brook—wise, old Brook, with his soft voice and observing eyes, goes, “No Zoro this time around, hm?”

Her pen stills. There’s nothing accusatory in Brook’s voice—he would never, none of their friends would never. But she waits for Vivi to be off with their orders still before replying, arms crossed across her chest almost defensively. “What is it to you, old man?”

She realizes a little too late that it’s an awfully rude response, but Jinbe simply laughs. “Old men, aren’t we, Brook?”

“Certainly older than most,” Brook agrees, eyes shining in mirth, not offended the least. “Hopefully wiser, too.”

“Well, sometimes,” Jinbe says, turning to Nami, “old men like us have the fortune—or the misfortune, some may say—to have loved and lost.”

Nami isn’t quite sure where the conversation is going, but there’s grief carried by Jinbe’s voice, and what comes out is, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all long past, miss,” Jinbe dismisses, not unkindly. “More importantly, what I’m trying to ay is, you and Zoro might have been looking at the wrong places. Love, that is. But there is time to rectify this—isn’t that what you young people have? Time”

Nami sits still, stupefied.

She has the suspicion that Robin knows, but Robin has always had her ways. For Jinbe to notice? Jinbe, who would rather talk about his fishing trips than to gossip? How obvious has she been?

(Open book, the thought resurfaces, unbidden. Heart on her sleeve—)

“Though, Nami?” Brook suddenly says, snapping Nami out of her own reverie.

She suddenly realizes that it’s just the two of them on the table, Jinbe already wandering around after imparting her with some advices. She clears her throat, trying to get her bearings. “Yeah?”

“I have to disagree with our dear Jinbe, I must say. We have loved and lost, but,” he takes her hand and guides it to rest on her heart.

“To love,” Brook says, voice steady, sure as a day. “Is never a misfortune.”

r/AmITheAsshole

Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA? submitted 2 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

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Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?

submitted 2 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

I’m a girl who has gone through a couple of dates with a dude, but I’m falling in love with another girl. Like, I’m having a gay crisis right now. I’m not actually cheating since we haven’t decided to be exclusive yet, but he’s also a childhood friend, so it makes me wonder if this is a dick move?

To make matters more complicated: my date? Friend? Sort of boyfriend? He seems to have fallen in love with someone else too, and it’s another guy, so he might be gay, too.

Yes, I know bisexuality exists. Can’t exactly speak about him but I think I’m not that, so it’s not like I can suck it up and date him instead. AITA?

[deleted] • 725 points 2 months ago

Aren’t you the OP of that one viral post from r/relationship_advice about the Baratie cook?

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 2324 points 2 months ago

Yes, and that’s relevant, how?

/u/alohci • -20 points 2 months ago

LOL you’re clearly a troll. This isn’t r/CreativeWriting, go write your romance novel somewhere else. I’m reporting you to the mods.

/u/cheesus32 • 1739 points 2 months ago

This is better than most shit on Netflix right now

/u/veloace • 1641 points 2 months ago

Communication is key, OP. Sexualities aside—which is a topic for another day—isn’t this essentially a case of the two of you wanting different things from the relationship?

Nami takes a deep breath and checks her phone for the time.

She sees the 1:00 displayed on the screen. Her appointment with Zoro is supposed to be on twelve thirty, which means she’ll have another 30 minutes as Zoro gets lost on the way to Baratie as usual. One hour was his record.

She takes another deep breath and sighs.

This is it. She’s going to tell Zoro the truth.

It’s rare for her, to be so nervous around Zoro, but in her defense, it’s not like there’s an easy way to say, “hey, sorry, this may come out of nowhere but I’m breaking things off between us. Apparently I’m a lesbian and I’m also in love with the waitress at the place where we’re supposed to be going on dates in. It’s not you, it’s me.”

...Nami really needs to work on her delivery.

Her heart stutters in her chest as the automatic door slides open and Zoro walks in with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle. Perhaps Zoro is more perceptive than she’s giving him credit for. She hopes so—it surely will make this whole sort of-break up easier for the both of them.

She has run her line over and over again in her head, but nothing has prepared her to see Zoro sit down across the table, bow down, and says, “I’m sory, but I don’t think this is working out for us.”

She blinks. Wait. Wait—“ You're breaking up with me?”

“Luffy thinks we’re having a fight because we’ve been acting weird around each other ever since we tried out this whole dating thing, and hell, Nami, he’s right—I’ve seen you less now,” Zoro plows on, oblivious to her shock. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re my best friend, and you’re still my best friend, and I want us back. The us that’s, you know, normal. Alsoimightbeinlovewiththecook .”

Oh.

That’s—oh.

Nami is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open stupidly now, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Holy shit,” she breathes, perplexed. “Reddit was right.”

Zoro finally looks up at that. “What’s red—” he seems to take in her expression for the first time since the conversation started, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Wait. You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, Zoro, god—how could I be when you’re right?” She feels her body slumping into the chair, the weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has suddenly been lifted. “We are terrible for each other. I have no idea what got us to agree to this.”

Zoro visibly relaxes. There’s amusement in his tone as he suggests, “the copious amount of alcohol?”

Right. They were in the middle of a drinking competition when the idea of a date came up. “You know what, in hindsight, it’s kind of crazy that we got this far with such a stupid idea.”

“I think I was running away,” Zoro admits, eyes unwittingly darting towards the kitchen. “I couldn’t—I had this thing, for the Cook, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. So I tried to make you an excuse for my cowardice.” He bows again. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, dummy, don’t—” she kicks him on the shin, forcing him to stop bowing. “Stop being all bushido on me. I wasn’t any better. I’m—in love with Vivi.”

It’s Zoro’s turn to look at her in surprise. “What, really?”

It’s comforting, in a way, that at least she isn’t so obvious that Zoro would notice. “Yeah. You’re probably too preoccupied with your pretty blond to notice, but I’ve been pretty smitten myself. And I guess I have you and your little crush to thank for dragging me here in the first place.”

Zoro blushes at that, and it’s cute—not in a way that makes her want to kiss him, but definitely in a way that makes her want to tease him until the end days. God, how did it take her so long to realize she never loved him that way?

“‘Dragging” you, huh?” Zoro seems to decide to hone in on that, probably because he could burn himself alive from embarrassment if he keeps talking about Sanji. “This place is that bad for a date?”

Nami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re the worst date ever, Zoro,” she says, in between peals of laughter. “But you’re the best wingman I’ve ever had.”

“Going on a date again this time?” Vivi asks.

Nami looks at her—really takes her in, her smooth long hair and bright smile and long eyelashes. Holy shit, she’s staring at her eyelashes. She is so fucking gay.

She clears her throat. Focus, Nami. “No, actually, uh, can we talk? Like, super serious.”

Vivi immediately straightens up at that. “Of course. Give me a moment."

She rushes towards the kitchen, probably to tell Sanji that she’ll be occupied for a moment; something pulls inside Nami’s chest at the sight, knowing that Vivi would drop everything to be by Nami’s side.

When Vivi reemerges from the kitchen, she’s no longer carrying the tray and the menu. She takes a seat beside Nami and takes her hand. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, kind of, uh,” here goes nothing. “Zoro and I broke up.”

Vivi’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, Nami, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be,” she rushes to clarify, before Vivi gets the wrong idea, “I did say we broke up, but that isn’t exactly right—I mean, we were never exclusive, Vivi. And I don’t think we were ever dating for real. Like, we’re gay.”

There’s a beat. “What?”

Okay, so Nami could have broken the news much more smoothly than that.

“Zoro and I, uh—I’m gay. And Zoro never exactly put a label, but I’m pretty sure he never even dreamed of banging a chick, and—” she squeezes Vivi’s hand. She isn’t sure she’s doing it for Vivi or herself. “I know this is a lot, but I just—I think we were just very comfortable with each other, and since we are man and woman, we somehow thought we should date. Which is dumb, looking back at it, but we’d never fallen in love before.”

She thinks of Vivi—beautiful, fierce, kind Vivi, who carries the world on her shoulders. Vivi, whose smile lights up the whole room. “We didn’t know how different it was going to be, when it’s the real thing.”

Somewhere behind them, she can hear something heavy hit the floor in the kitchen, which means Zoro must have confessed right about now and Sanji must have dropped something from the shock.

Well, at least Vivi hasn’t dropped anything yet.

“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues, finding newfound courage from the way Vivi looks at her—is that hope in her eyes? “Vivi, you’re the most wonderful, amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and pretty but I like you more than just that.” She takes Vivi’s hand in both of hers now. “Would you go out with me?”

There’s a moment as her words seem to sink in, and Nami feels her blood run cold—what if she read this whole thing wrongly? What if Vivi was straight? What if she was just trying to help out a friend, being the nice person she is?

But then Vivi’s face splits into a smile, soft and golden-warm, the white light of the overhead fluorescence illuminating her almost ethereal-like. “Yes, Nami,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “I would love to go out with you. But only on one condition.”

“Anything,” Nami says without thinking, because it’s true.

Vivi grins, and there’s a teasing edge on her voice as she says, “If you’re asking me on a date in a diner, count me out.”

“Oh my god,” Nami says, finally, finally pulling Vivi in for a kiss, “never again.”

UPDATE: My (20F) Date (21M) has left me for a Baratie cook (21M)

submitted 3 days ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

It’s fine though, I have a girlfriend (18F, beautiful, amazing, doesn’t get into fights with random cooks) now. Yes, it’s the waitress. Yes, you guys have told me so. I’d love to take the L, but I’m the one with a hot girlfriend here, so am I really losing in this scenario?

#namivivi #zosan #nami #roronoa zoro #sanji #nefertari vivi #one piece #my writing #//#vivi #zoro #op

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r0zez-in-bl00m · 3 years

Text

~ 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~

Chaotic parents

🦇Lilia Vanrouge x fem!reader, WORD COUNT : : 2K

Description- Lilia's wife comes for a visit but leaves a trail of destruction behind.

Placed under the cut for length!

It was yet another quiet day at the dormitory founded on the elegance of the fairy of thorns. The morning was greeted by Sebek and Silver’s bickering about whose training routine was better while Silver occasionally dozed off leaving Sebek to jerk him awake every single time with his thunderous voice. The dorm leader of Diasomania, Malleus, stared out of the window in the common room, finding the outside world much more interesting than the leather stiff book he had read a countless number of times or the ongoing talk across the room.

Yes, it was indeed another normal, boring day for the residents of Diasomania. Well, far too normal.

The one-sided quarrel between Sebek and Silver ended abruptly when the sound of an explosion came from the kitchens (did they even have that?), breaking the second-year’s slumber instantly as he looked around quizzically. “WHAT WAS THAT?!?!” Sebek thundered, the obvious surprise plastered on his face as he faced Silver. The second-year shrugged his shoulders as a response as he removed Sebek’s hand on his dorm uniform. “Maybe the old man is in the kitchen again,” Silver said, staring at the hallway to the kitchen worryingly.

Silver knew how experimental his father was in the field of culinary arts. The variety of weird, foul-smelling dishes he had tasted (and dreaded) as a little child was a prime example of it. As the knight had feared, not soon after, Lilia stepped into the common room, his clothes a little burnt, face covered in soot, with a burnt dish in his hands. “Oh my, this stew took longer than I had anticipated!” He said as he dried the non-existent sweat off his brow. Sebek retracted the moment the blasted dish’s smell reached his nose. That dish could barely be categorized as food, let alone be eaten under normal circumstances. Was the dressing covered in slime and worms?

“I-I see . . . it’s an excellent looking dish, Lord Lilia!” Sebek complimented, but his reaction betrayed his words greatly. “May I ask which stew is it?”

‘Better not ask if you don’t want to be the first victim Sebek,’ Silver thought but refrained from speaking it out loud. Sebek was always too fond of his seniors. The old fae, on the other hand, seemed giddy and unusually excited to tell Sebek about his extra special dish. “Well, it’s my specialty dish which I only make on the rarest of occasions, and mind you it’s really hard to persuade me to make this dish even if you ask a million times,” Lilia giggled while continuously shoving the otherworldly stew at Poor Sebek’s face.

Who would be in their right mind to actually persuade Lilia Vanrouge, the most horrible cook humanity has ever seen?

Lilia’s body shivered from giggling as Sebek guessed various stew names he had known. In defeat, Lilia finally disclosed the name, “It’s my legendary ‘slimy beef casserole’!!”

Silver almost choked at the name of the dish alone when he thought he was about to doze off again, finding it hard to breathe as he stared at Lilia as if he had grown another head.

Malleus, from his window, had his ears perked up as well at the unusual excitement. “Beef-Tomato stew?” Malleus questioned, “Don’t you usually make it for-”

POOF!

Before he could finish a puff of green smoke encircled the room completely. Silver’s dread turned horrendous as his aurora eyes traveled up to see the person coming out of the clearing green fog.

Those (e/c) eyes, that hair tied in a ponytail, and the familiar scent of raspberries. Hauling the heavy travel bag in her hand, the apparently young-looking girl smiled brightly and exclaimed brightly, “Family reunion!!” tackling Lilia to the ground, eliciting a chuckle from the latter. All the while Silver pinched the bridge of his nose in worry.

Indeed, it was going to be a long day.

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

“All I had heard that it was a famous school for kids with magic, but I didn’t know that its campus was this big!!!” His mother chirped happily, skirting around here and there like a newborn baby bird. It had taken everything for Silver to not sink and die. To actually think that his own mother would show up at the school where he and his father were studying, and in summer clothes on top of that. That tank top concealed under a modest button-up shirt wasn’t doing her any favor. He had to persuade his stubborn mother to wear something modest enough to not get any weird glances.

Aside from Silver’s anxiety and protectiveness towards his mother, Lilia was extremely ecstatic.

“My sweet, you hadn’t mentioned that you had taken a trip to the southern islands in your recent letters,” Lilia said, strolling side by side with his beloved, arms linked and fingers intertwined. “Judging by your complexion you sure had a great time!”

(Name) giggled, “Of course, unlike you who would turn into a mummy just after an hour under the sun, I am always up for a swim on a hot summer beach and getting a tan!” She rolled up her sleeves and showed her changed skin color with pride, a smirk adorning her adorable visage.

Silver sheepishly scratched his head, “So, what made you come for a visit mom?” It’s not like he wasn’t happy, of course, no child could ever be sad to see their mother after a long time, but the question was- why now?

(Name) shuddered at the question, as if it was something too painful to talk about. Nonetheless, she shared her part of the story. “Staying in the Valley of thorns with nothing to do but tric⸺ I mean, play with neighbors was getting tooooo boring.” She said, twirling around in her summer dress, “That was when Sebek’s mum suggested me to go on a trip like old times! Gosh, I had missed the sights! But, traveling with my sugar daddy was much more fun, and I kind of started to miss⸺”

Silver’s eyes widened like two satellite dishes as he subconsciously cut of his mother, “Sugar what?”

He heard his father laugh heartily, smacking his arm slightly as if it was normal, “I told her to call me that, cool right?” Lilia asked, his lips occasionally curving upwards. Silver didn’t know what to do in this awkward situation. It was getting hard to keep a poker face when his cheeks were getting redder by the goddamn second. Unlike him, Malleus and Sebek were not even a little fazed by this.

“Nowadays people call their partners with such flowery nicknames,” (name) curiously reminiscence the one time she had heard someone calling their lovers in an odd fashion while at the beach. “Uh! Time flies by.”

Lilia chuckled at his beloved’s innocence, “Sweetheart, it’s good and all that you are learning new things and accepting the changing times, but” he gestured to Silver’s tomato face amusingly. “Other students will notice us, look, even our son is getting all embarrassed even after hearing our romantic exchanges a million times.”

Sebek, initially confused about what the great seven was happening, seeing his fellow guard show vulnerability, screamed at full-throttle, “SILVER!! Be ashamed of yourself!! It’s unbecoming of Young Master’s escort to show his blushing face in public!!!!”

Silver held the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time. “No one hadn’t even noticed until you brought it up for everyone to hear.” He pointed out to the two first-year students who were curiously eyeing the Diasomania group, only to scramble away laughing when Silver had noticed them.

Pushing all the hue and cry away, the prince of thorns conversed with Mrs. Vanrouge, his eyes glimmering with child-like fondness. “How has everything been in the Valley of thorns, (name)? Well, I presume?” His questions were cute just like his expressions!

The female couldn’t help but smile giddily, “My Prince, it hasn’t been long since your last visit to the land. What more could change in a few months’ time?”

The old fae nudged the prince’s arm a little. “You know Malleus, sweet. Always insatiably curious, this young lad,” Lilia added, earning a glare from the dorm leader. Before he could retort and start one of his ‘I’m not a child’ monologues, (name) asked– “Where are Silver and Sebek?” The other two fairies looked behind them and found the two of them vanished from sight.

“They must have stopped because of their argument again, those two.”

“I’ll go look for them if you’d like,” Malleus offered, but the old man shook it off. “Knowing those two, it’s better if I come too, just in case Sebek takes it to arms and marches on to war,” Lilia said. “(name), could you please wait a minute over here?”

As if she was a child who needed parental consent, (name) pouted at the irritating behavior of her husband only to earn a million mandol smile in return. The promise of getting back in less than a minute had triggered a few options in the female’s mind, none of them were in goodwill. Would she actually be Mrs. Vanrouge if not as much of a trickster as her husband?

A devilish smirk appeared as soon as the duo’s backs disappeared from her sight. Cracking the knuckles of her hands, she gazed around the vacant vicinity.

“Sooooooooo, what to do next?”

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

The half-silent walk towards the rendezvous point was broken when Lilia had opened up his mouth to speak- “It’s good that the two of you didn’t wander off too much, it would’ve been far too much troubling to search the entire school.”

“I DEEPLY APOLOGISE LORD LILIA!!” Sebek pleaded, or more like screamed for mercy, “If Silver hadn’t fallen asleep, we would’ve come back sooner.”

“And we wouldn’t have become lost,” Silver added apologetically. “It’s alright, it was all in goodwill and we found you in time before dinner,” Malleus reassured. Sebek seemed to calm down at his lord’s words but nonetheless continued to rant and reprimand himself for being an incompetent vassal and what not.

But it stopped the moment all of them found (name) to be missing. “Didn’t we leave (name) here?” Malleus asked, confused as to where she could’ve gone. “My little honey drop likes to play hide and seek a lot, surely she mustn’t have gone too far!” Lilia reasoned but internally dreaded inside. Something of a horrible memory was coming back to him but he couldn’t place his finger on it . . . .

“Father,” Silvers said, serious, “We need to find Mom before she gets herself into trouble.”

“Yes, Silver is absolutely correct, or have you forgotten what happened during the Queen’s birthday?” Lilia’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shaped as the realization dawned over him. “Right! How could I forget?” (name) had planted a party bomb inside the cake that it exploded and its contents spilled everywhere. It wasn’t that big of a prank but the look the Queen had thrown afterward spoke volumes.

“In that case, the sooner we find her, the better it will be.” At that, the group again moves out to search, the expectancy to loads of trouble ahead humming in their minds.

On the other side, many weird occurrences happened at NRC that day. Students found the cafeteria benches levitating in the air with Rosehearts screaming ‘OFF WITH YOUR HEAD’ at the anonymous person who had hanged him from the ceiling. The Lion of Savannah was in a sour mood all day after it took him 2 hours to remove all the girlish accessories which had magically adorned his hair and chased Ruggie to have the evidence removed from existence. The ever-charismatic Vil Schoenheit seemed to have wanted to pop a blood vessel in his body after finding that someone had let Heartslaybul’s Flamingos loose in the dormitory. The clean-up in itself was a big task, the aftermath even more terrible.

All the while (Name) treated herself to some roasted marshmallows (courtesy of the cafeteria ghosts who mistook her for a child). The female never quite understood why her husband detested such a delectable snack. At the thought of Lilia, she wondered if he was looking for her while she was creating chaos in the school. She giggled at the illustration of his panicked face came to her mind.

Leaving the train of thoughts, she turned her focus back on chomping down the white snack. “Oh, a child has wandered into the campus?” a suspicious voice came from behind her, a shadow looming over her and blocking the sunlight. (Name) immediately turned to see a man with a bird mask glowering from above. The female wanted to scoff at the impudence of the idiot in front of her. Child? She was even older than the ancestry line of the top hat he was wearing. But, still feeling a little devilish, she decided to go with the flow. The headmaster crouched down in front of her, “Are you lost?”

“KIDNAPPER!!!!!!!!” The scream was so hard that it had rendered his hearing senses, which was a first for him given that he had already heard a different variety of screams. “My, dear child you have a loud voice!” Crowley held his head, still trying to shake off the effect, “and I’m not a kidnapper. I may appear suspicious but I’m a very generous person and the headmaster of this school!”

Even more, fun to trick you then.

“Oh really! Then prove it, Mister Crow!” she said faux excitedly.

Crowley cleared his throat, finding the nickname to be cute, “Alright, Alright! How about some ice cream and a little tour of the school?” The female’s mouth immediately watered at the word ‘ice cream’. She nodded vigorously in approval. Suddenly, she felt glad that she came to visit. Having a delicious treat on top of that a good laugh was like icing on a cake. Maybe she could demand a cake too.

“Headmaster Crowley!! Right on time!”

Oh damn.

She dreaded what was about to come next. The sight of her beloved husband with a teasing smile on his face poured water all over her future plans! Goodbye ice-cream.

“Everything has been upside down today . . . . oh, who’s this?” curse his impeccable question ‘who’s this?’

“This is a child I found roaming the gardens,” Crowley explained. “And by what do you specifically mean by ‘upside down’, Vanrouge?”

“You’re requested in the cafeteria, there you might get what you need, for the time being, I can look over after the child,” The damned fae knew what he was doing and was enjoying every bit of it! He smiled, showing more teeth than required, his magenta orbs glowing, “We will have lots of fun, won’t we little one?” It sent shivers down her spine and marked as the queue that she had overstayed her visit and best be off now.

With a puff of smoke, she vanished into sight, leaving the headmaster confused as the green air cleared. “What just happened Vanrouge?”

Lilia smiled peacefully, exhaling a sigh of relief, and said, “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

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

“Father, you’re going to mail the stew?”

“Yes! She came for a visit but forgot her favorite dish. I hope that the Thorn delivery service can handle the stew, the worms bite a lot.”

#twst imagines #cruel to be kind #lilia vanrouge #disney #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #silver #diasomania #twst lilia

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mar1garden · 4 years

Text

going batty part 1

masterlist

warning: this will be salty. very salty. if you think it’s ooc let me know and i’ll do the best i can to fix it, but the characterization in this show is so shoddy already that there isn’t much i can do. alya salt, adrien salt, lila salt, bustier salt, class salt. this is also my first posted fic!! if u wanna be on the tag list let me know 💙🌹

The first impression Damien had of his new class was that they were loud. Even as he walked up the stairs, he could hear voices in the classroom. It seemed a debate was occurring, though he couldn’t quite make out the two sides. He reached the top of the stairs, but before he could even make a grab for the door handle, the room fell silent. Damien was about to thank whatever deity was watching out for him and silencing the roomful of screaming children he was about to walk into when he heard another voice from inside the room.

“Of course she’s in love with him,” an effeminate voice said matter-of-factly. “But he barely knows she exists. It’s tragic, really. She tells me about it every time she sleeps over- oops!” the voice continued. Damien didn’t know who was speaking, and he didn’t know who they were speaking about, but he knew from their cadence and their confidence in “accidentally” spilling secrets that he couldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. Damien sighed deeply to think that he was joining a class of liars and idiots as he reluctantly opened the door to the classroom. Once more the class quieted- chaos had broken out once more after the liar mentioned her little tidbit, which he expected had been the goal.

“Ah! Our new student! M. Damocles told me to keep an eye out for you. Would you like to say a few words to the class?” a woman- presumably the teacher, though she did nothing to show it- asked. She smiled expectantly at him as he moved to stand in front of her desk, facing the class.

“I’m Damien. I’m 15 and I’m an exchange student from America. I do not wish to distract myself from my studies during my time here, so please do not try to make friends with me. I’m not interested,” Damien told the class sharply. He walked briskly to the only open seat in the room- back row, next to some girl who smiled gently at him before returning her gaze to the front of the class. Interesting, he mused. By her bright clothes, he had expected bubbliness. Perhaps a high-pitched greeting. A hug, maybe. This was a pleasant surprise, though it was the only one of its kind he had had all week.

On Monday, they had received video evidence of a super villain in Paris. Tim had suspected it was CGI, especially since Paris was visually completely fine when he hacked some security feeds, even though the video clearly showed the Eiffel Tower falling. Bruce had decided that they really ought to at least check before writing it off, and Damien had drawn the short straw.

On Tuesday, Bruce had told him his cover for being in Paris was that he was an exchange student. He wasn’t allowed to be Robin while he was there, as it may put his identity at risk. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he had confirmation that the thing was either a hoax or genuine, unless he was in actual danger.

On Wednesday he packed. He couldn’t take weapons with him, obviously, because airport security may be a joke but he was pretty sure they would catch an actual sword stuffed in his bag. That afternoon he had flown to Paris and gotten settled in.

And now it was Thursday. Damien had learned much about the class very quickly, mainly that it was composed of a liar and some idiots. He had learned his deskmate was quiet. He had learned that he was far enough ahead in the syllabus that he could afford to study people in class.

He hoped the rest of the week was calm. Even if it meant he had to stay longer, he would rather have time to get settled before suffering a villain attack- if the whole thing was real, anyways. He pulled his focus back to the task at hand- assessing the class and finding any useful allies or sources of information. He recognized the girl next to the liar as the Ladyblogger. This meant the Ladyblog was likely an unreliable resource, which he mentally jotted down. That was good to know.

Damien cast a sideways glance at the girl next to him. She was patiently listening to the teacher and obviously tuning out the other students. When Damien bothered to listen, he noticed them gossiping about her. So Marinette was her name, huh?

Every rumor he heard was traced instantly back to the liar, and with each word he noticed the girl next to him tense imperceptibly more. He mentally scoffed. It was clear that she wasn’t going to stand up for herself. How pathetic. She was preferable to the liar or any of the blind idiots, but certainly not by much. So lost in thought was he that he flinched when the bell rang. Where had his restraint gone?

Marinette turned to him once the bell had rung. In a voice clearly pitched down so others wouldn’t hear, she spoke for the first time that day: “You’re Damien, right? I’m Marinette, the class president.” He scoffed slightly. The whole class clearly hated her, and she refused to stand up for herself. How had this mess become class president? As if she hadn’t heard him, she continued: “If you need anything, let me know. Here’s your class schedule and syllabi, and here’s a map of school. If you’d like, I can give you a tour later and explain the multiple purposes of some of the classrooms.” She handed him a short pile of papers and waited, as if she expected a response. When she got none, she nodded and left, and somehow, that made Damien feel worse than he would have if she had scolded him on his lack of a ‘thank you.’

The rest of the day, he remained in the same classes as her. He sat next to her in a majority of them, as she was often the only person with no seat partner. She remained quiet and focused, and she continued to pointedly ignore the other students, though it seemed he was not among their ranks. When he asked any questions, she answered quickly, quietly, and to the best of her ability, which he appreciated. She may be useful yet, if her succinct answers to non-hero questions were any indication of her general temperament. As he thought this, the bell rang for lunch and the class began to pack up. Damien wasn’t sure if he should risk the caf or head off campus, but as he turned to ask Marinette, he noticed that she had frozen in place. Her bag was half packed and resting on the table as she looked in surprise at someone standing at the table.

The boy was blonde and green eyed. He had had the liar hanging off of him, which either meant they were working together or he was a bigger idiot than them all. He smiled condescendingly at Marinette and Damien, then he turned solely to Marinette. “Marinette, may I speak with you real quick? It’ll only take a minute,” the boy asked, though it was clear ‘no’ was not an option. At the girl’s small nod, he turned to Damien. “Do you mind if I steal her for a sec?” he asked. Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Seeing as she’s a human being and therefore not property, I don’t see how you could steal her, but be my guest.” The boy smiled that same smarmy smile at him, and Damien decided that too many unlikeable people disliked the sweet girl next to him. He didn’t want to be among their ranks, and while the girl could do with a bit more spine, she had been nothing but pleasant to him. As the boy maneuvered her away to speak, Damien moved a bit more quietly. It would be easy for his trained ears to overhear, and they should both underestimate him, so it would be simple to eavesdrop.

“Mari, you didn’t say anything to him, did you?” the blond asked, looking searchingly at the girl in question. She sighed in response.

“Is that what this is about? I promise, I didn’t tell him anything. I think he knows she’s lying, and if he asks, I won’t lie to him to protect her, but I haven’t told him anything and he hasn’t asked.” Marinette rolled her eyes at the boy. Damien couldn’t help but notice that her posture, while visibly scared when other students were around, was simply bored when only Blondie was there. The boy had sighed in relief at Marinette’s words, but had quickly tensed back up.

“Wait, if he asks if she’s lying, you’ll just... tell him? Just like that? Mari, you can’t do that! He doesn’t know us, he doesn’t need to know our secrets!” the blond protested. He assumed a superior expression and quickly looked at Marinette in as disappointed a way as he could manage. The aforementioned girl glared at him.

“Agreste, I’m not going to lie. I refuse to do so, especially to try and protect a girl who hates me. Damien is perfectly kind and has been nothing but cordial, I have no reason to deny him information that may affect his time here. I won’t make him listen to some liar thinking it’s the truth.” Marinette ended the conversation there, walking back to the desk quickly and packing her bag before leaving class. Damien took this in with an air of quiet amusedness, though he was touched that she defended him.

Maybe his time here wouldn’t be so impossible after all.

that’s where i’m ending the first part! if you’d like to be tagged in the next part let me know! have a wonderful weekend folks! ~💙🌹

#roserose #maribat #daminette #damien wayne #ml marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #marinette dupain cheng #ml #mlb #ml salt #adrien salt #adrien agreste #ml adrien #ml adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug #lila salt #bustier salt #going batty

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glassworkspiderlilies · 3 years

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Piofiore no Banshou | Nicola/Liliana, Gilbert | AO3 Summary: At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca. There are unresolved issues between them. This becomes everyone else's problem, too. (Or, Lili wages some psychological warfare against Nicola. The Visconti manor experiences a premature and very severe winter.) Notes: COULDN’T MOVE ON FROM PIOFIORE WITHOUT PAYING TRIBUTE TO MY FAVORITE BOY, NICOLA FRANCESCA....I LOVE HIM. and therefore i shall bully him, just a little.

At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca.

The latter is met with thinly veiled hostility. A traitor is a traitor, but Gilbert has made his orders clear: Nicola Francesca is not to be touched. The former, on the other hand, is met with both politeness and interest; though she had been under the protection of the Falzone Family, she is merely a normal girl, and one from the church, at that. There is no problem there.

It's expected that Nicola will be trouble, the largest upset, internal ceasefire notwithstanding. After all, he’s not just any traitor to his Family—he was their Underboss, and a talented one at that. Simply by way of his being here and what he’s already done—he will always be an outsider, no matter how many years he stays with the Visconti or how many feats he performs under their name. As Oliver says: once a traitor, always a traitor.

The Visconti do not expect the lady to be anything but demure and well-mannered, as she has already shown herself to be. Sure, she was living in the Falzone manor awhile and sure, the Visconti are friendlier than most mafia, but both Families are still mafia, and in Burlone, it’s the mafia that rule. As a citizen, Liliana knows how to show her respect, to stay within the unwritten laws.

But. Within a few days, it becomes apparent that there’s something between Lili and Nicola. Despite the fact that it was he who kidnapped her and brought her here, she looks for him at every turn and is far more at ease in his presence than anyone else’s. The Visconti soldati see her face light up at any glimpse of him, though Nicola rebuffs her approach at every turn, far too busy to entertain her. Otherwise, he never spares a glance. The two have had at least one proper conversation behind closed doors, presumably in which Nicola had reaffirmed her situation and his true colors, but it doesn’t change her behavior.

The soldati shake their heads and think she’ll get over it; it is apparent she has outlived her usefulness, and even they have heard tell of Nicola Francesca’s pretty string of broken hearts. Eventually those ladies learn to stop lamenting over a mafia boy, and move on.

The soldati are wrong.

Liliana is darling and sweet, kind and optimistic. She is also stubborn.

All of those are weapons, and consciously or not, she uses them.

There are unresolved issues between her and Nicola.

This becomes everyone else’s problem, too.

He is avoiding her.

Some interaction is inevitable, yes, but he makes the choices where he can. If she is in the dining hall he will not eat then; if she is in the kitchens he will make his drink later. He leaves the manor before she wakes and returns well past her bedtime. If he must see her or speak to her, he averts his gaze or cuts her off mid-sentence and pushes past him.

Lili had thought him kind, but he’d warned her—he is also a cruel man.

And yet—Lili mounts her rebellion, undeterred.

First is during lunch one day. Nicola walks into the dining room and the chatter quiets before it picks up again; he is used to this by now, more relieved that he does not see Lili in their midst. He goes to the serving table, frowning a little at what he sees. Broiled bream in lardo is the main course.

He hates lardo.

He considers his options, but before he can choose anything, the volume of the chatter fluctuates again, and when he turns he sees Lili sweeping into the room. His heart doesn’t even have time to sink before she’s in front of him.

“Here,” she says, and though her tone is pleasant as ever, her eyes are challenging.

In her hands is a plate, loaded up with food. It looks no different than anyone else’s, but upon closer inspection, he realizes that the fish has been baked, the accompanying lemon sauce a little different. It has no lardo.

Nicola looks at her, and she stares back. Back at the Falzone manor, she’d made a very similar dish to today’s main course, and he’d eaten it without complaint because she had served it to him so happily. It was later that she found out his preferences, but he assured her hers had been an exception.

Now, she serves him the opposite. Despite his treatment of her, she remembered and went through the effort of preparing something else for him.

Lili waits. All around them, the chatter has quieted to a low din, everyone watching the strange almost-fight between them. Nicola should refuse, like he’s always done. She’s tried this before, offering him food, trailing after him and begging him to eat or rest.

She’s not begging now; it is an attack, as much as it is an offering.

Her eyes flicker at his hesitation, and she tilts her head a little.

How much do you hate me? She seems to ask, limpid and melancholy. Will he rebuff her food again this time, despite the other options being something he hates or an unsatisfying combination of side dishes?

“You must have a lot of time on your hands,” Nicola says with a frown, trying to spurn her anyway.

“I’m staying put,” Lili responds, without missing a beat, “So yes, I do. But you won’t waste it, will you?”

Her ample time, or her food? Either way, Nicola can’t think of anything else rude to say. He lets Lili push the plate into his hands.

“Thank you,” he says stiffly, and Lili beams at him.

Nicola sits. Lili does too in the seat across from him, after preparing her own plate. It’s the same as his. The dining room is unable to return to its normal ambiance, a strange sort of frigidness still present between the two of them.

I make what you like. I eat what you like. I sit with you, I eat with you—I am with you.

It is a message, all of it, to him and the Visconti both whether she intends both or not. She stands by him and him only, even now.

Nicola cleans his plate, almost against his will. She’s a good cook, always has been, and the food is…familiar. Comforting.

“I’ll get it,” Lili says softly, reaching for his empty dish, and Nicola looks at her.

Her actions so far have all been servile, but when she looks at him now, satisfaction evident on her face, Nicola feels like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

Nicola is exhausted when he walks through the door, and moreso when Lili pops her head around the corner. Her face brightens even as his darkens, and she offers him a plate of fresh panzerotti, which he curtly refuses.

“You don’t look so good,” she continues, coming closer and practically blocking his path as he tries to move forward, peering at his face. “How about a cup of espresso?”

Nicola freezes at the familiar words, though they must seem innocuous to everyone else. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and Lili takes advantage of his pause to flit towards the kitchen.

“I don’t need it,” he calls immediately after her, his brows furrowing, but when he finally follows after her, she is already in the middle of preparing one. “I thought I refused.”

She doesn’t look at him, pointedly ignoring his words.

“You look pale. Having something warm will make you feel better,” she tells him serenely, and Nicola stiffens again.

He remembers this exact conversation when he first brought her to the Visconti manor, only their roles were reversed.

In another few moments, she is handing him the freshly brewed cup.

“Here,” she says, smiling, and Nicola sighs, looking vaguely pained.

“Lili…” he sighs, but she merely continues to hold out the cup of espresso as she pins him with her stare.

The coffee does smell good. He accepts the cup and sips, and she looks a little relieved—had he truly looked so tired, and in need of a pick-me-up?—before turning to make herself a cup of what he presumes will be a caffe latte. She looks vaguely surprised when she turns around and he’s still there, and perhaps it is testament to how exhausted he is because he doesn’t move.

They stand in silence, sipping at their drinks, a world unspoken between them once more.

“I’m happy to see you,” Lili says, very softly, and Nicola sighs.

“Liliana…don’t,” he says, almost apologetic.

Her mouth twists a little, having expected this anyway.

“It’s the duty of an Italian lady to please the man in her life,” she says flatly, sipping at her coffee in an apathetic manner.

Nicola looks at her in slight disbelief; the fact that she remembers the things he’s said with such clarity to use them against him in such a way…despite himself, he’s impressed.

“You’re not pleasing me, Liliana,” Nicola half-purrs, half-sneers. “Why do you keep doing this? Just be the good girl you’ve always been—“

“The fact that you think that is already a mistake.”

He freezes. Oh, she is good.

Lili is smiling at him, the picture of innocence and elegance, and though she could very well just be repeating his words back to him, suddenly he is questioning whether or not she means it—or rather, how much. She’s not good enough at subterfuge for her entirely personality to be a lie—plus the Falzones have watched over her for a long time. But her behavior has been different lately, hasn’t it, and Nicola wonders—why?

“Liliana,” Nicola says carefully, “I already told you why I brought you here. If you’re looking for the act I put up back at the Falzone manor—“

“What,” Lili interrupts him, setting her cup back on its saucer with a loud clink, “An unfortunate misunderstanding.”

This time, it’s she who walks away first, letting winter crystallize behind her.

He’s been unsettled since their last conversation, though he tries to put it out of his mind. It makes him more exhausted, and he hears Lili’s voice in his mind, telling him to rest, which he ignores too.

Nicola had told Gil to use and abuse him while he still could, and he still means it. He’s used to being worked hard, but it’s Lili that makes him tired, it’s Lili that—

He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. It’s time to admit that he does, in fact, need to rest, and thus drag his body back to the new, uncomfortable room he must call home.

As he steps through the door of the Visconti manor, he hears a low, distressed voice, and his feet are already moving before his mind can catch up.

Lili is standing in front of her door, crying. Gil is in front of her, making soothing noises, but the sight of Lili’s tears cuts Nicola to the bone, knocks the air out of his lungs. What happened? What happened?

“It’s just hard,” Lili is saying, as she puts her hands to her face, “I’m just…a little tired.”

“I can imagine,” Gil responds, leaning a little closer. “Say, Lili…”

She looks up, and Nicola’s breath catches in his throat—she is vulnerable now, scrubbed raw, and Gil…

“What if you make a different choice?” Gil asks, and Lili blinks, confused.

“What…?”

“I’m just saying that I would never make a pretty girl like you cry,” Gil says, smiling. “Instead of Nicola, why don’t you give me a shot instead?”

“Gil, I—“

The Visconti Boss leans close, opening the door behind her just as Lili steps back, and in a moment he’s practically pushed her into her room.

The door closes.

Nicola is moving again, feeling cold, cold, slamming the door open again with a bang. Lili has fallen onto her bed, eyes wide, and Gil is smirking. He rips Gil from Lili, and she sits up, a hand over her heart; Nicola struggles to remain calm as he questions just what on earth is going on here. Gil is suspiciously calm in the face of his vitriol—Nicola truly did not think Gil was this sort of person. But after some time, Gil shoots Lili a wry look.

“Guess I won that bet, huh? Or did you want to see more?”

“N-no…” Lili breathes, and Nicola glares at the Boss.

“Gilbert…what do you mean, bet?”

“Your girl here looked so pitiful that I decided to do a little role playing. Say, Nicola…how about ditching the lies for once and saving your effort for the truth instead?”

He laughs then sails out of the room. His words sink in, and Nicola curses Gil’s back with fervor.

And then, it is just the two of them.

“…Thank you, Nicola,” Lili ventures hesitantly, though she doesn’t look at him. “I didn’t think Gil was going to go that far.”

He sighs deeply, shoulders sagging.

“Well, I could tell that you truly were not enjoying the situation,” he frowns. “…Don’t scare me like that.”

She meets his eyes then, and though his brows are creased in anger, she can tell it’s not directed towards her. For a moment she looks hopeful, but then she stares down at her lap, her shoulders tensing as though she is already expecting rejection.

“Can we rebuild our relationship from the beginning?” she blurts, and she puts her face in her hands for a moment. “I don’t mind if it’s not exactly the same as before. Just…please, Nicola, don’t…don’t push me away.”

He stares at her, and she looks up at him. There are still tears clinging to her lashes, and he remembers: I’m just…a little tired. Suddenly also remembers back at the Falzone manor, where one of his men had politely warned him don’t play around with her too much, followed up by Leo’s cheeky please treasure her, okay? We believe in you!

He sighs heavily. There is an end to all things.

“I won’t treat you as kindly as before,” he warns, but she brightens anyway, and for a second it seems like she might throw her arms around him.

He finds that he wouldn’t mind. He finds that despite his words, he wants to treat her kindly, if it means she’ll smile at him like that again.

“That’s fine!” Lili exclaims warmly, the tension bleeding out of her body. “Thank you, Nicola!”

He shakes his head; there is nothing she should show gratitude for.

“Why are you so happy?” he murmurs wryly, and she giggles a little.

“I just am,” she says, and gazes back at him.

For a moment, it is spring again, and though he still has things to do and burdens weighing upon him, Nicola leaves her room a little lighter.

The soldati have gotten used to turning on their heels and fleeing the premises entirely when they see Lili and Nicola together. If people linger around the edges of the snowglobe the two create for themselves when they speak, they get frostbitten—it’s always snow and sleet and squalls around these two. As such, it takes a while before some of them manage to register the softening. Lili is still the one that talks more while Nicola listens, but his lips are turned up ever so slightly now, and his eyes are gentler.

Civility. In some ways, this is scarier; the soldati have only ever seen them at odds, and though what is happening now is certainly better, it is also somewhat unsettling. Spring could be coming, or it could simply be a false alarm before a blizzard kills them all. Burlone has mild winters, but Gil grew up in America, and they’ve heard stories about how bad their winters can get, how freak storms can happen just when you think it’s starting to warm up.

The soldati watch in apprehension, Oliver watches with suspicion, Gil watches with amusement, and the temperature of the Visconti household is still entirely reliant on the two who don’t truly belong there.

They talk at night.

It’s truly the only time Nicola can spare, when Lili should really be in bed. But she stays up for him and her smile is so bright when he knocks and opens her door that he forgets he is tired. He owes this to her, at the least; he hadn’t bothered to think it might mean anything suggestive when she’d asked him for this favor, even as he sits on her bed, but he did tease her about it anyway just to see her blush so beautifully. It’s—comforting, to see her react this way again.

“Despite everything…I thought you’d continue to ignore me,” she admits, and he give her a wry smile.

“I should have been about to lie to you without any remorse. But you…how do I say this…” he shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. “You were…surprisingly stubborn. Even I thought I might have treated you a little too coldly, but…you really have no sense of self preservation, do you?”

She laughs a little.

“Maybe just when it comes to you,” she says, “But I also don’t believe everything you did for me was a lie.”

He’s floored on two accounts—her unintentional flirting and her optimism, though she isn’t wrong about the latter.

“It always confused me, why you were so kind to me at the Falzone manor…so when I learned it was only just to use me, well…it was oddly…relieving, to have an explanation.”

Nicola laughs disbelievingly, absolutely mystified.

“You didn’t curse me or hate me or despise me? Not even a little?”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing as she considers, though he answer is near immediate.

“It was painful to be ignored. But hating you didn’t cross my mind.”

Nicola gapes at her.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, and she simply beams at him. “Unbelievable and impossible.”

“Only to you, Signor Francesca,” she says, her eyes twinkling, and Nicola…Nicola resists the urge to reach out and touch her.

“Well?” he says instead, with a slight cough, “What do you want to talk about tonight?”

It is evident that she wants to ask about his betrayal, but she curbs the topic just a little to ask about his and Dante’s childhood instead. Once he starts talking, it spills out of him with abandon; by the end, she’s crying, and his heart softens at the sight of her tears. She’d been downcast the first time he told her about his past too, that day he’d fallen asleep on her lap, and he’d felt an odd sort of sadness for it. Now, he is grateful for her sorrow, though it’s mixed with that same sort of strange pain.

A tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek; Nicola reaches out and brushes it away, his hand lingering.

“Thank you, Liliana,” he says softly.

“I didn’t do anything,” she protests, but he smiles.

“You cried for Dante, and that’s worth my thanks,” he murmurs.

They are silent for a moment; Lili looks up at him, eyes glistening, tears caught in her long lashes. Nicola gazes back; his hand cups her cheek, her lips form his name, and—

“Good night, Liliana,” he says, and rises from the bed.

Nicola leaves her room before he does anything more.

He is shaking by the time he makes it back to the Visconti manor from the casino, Lili in his arms, injured but alive after attempting to take a bullet for him. His mind is awhirl; she had been so strong at the summit of all the Bosses, standing her ground against the three most powerful men in Burlone, so unwavering and perfect. The meeting had gone well, despite him having to see Dante face-to-face again finally, and then…

The appearance of Roberto de Feo, his unusual interest in Lili, and the absolute inanity of his attempting to kill a mafia member in broad sight, on Arca’s neutral territory. Nicola never thought Lili would jump out in front of his shot; Roberto had been distressed too—in fact, that only one who wasn’t shocked was Lili herself. Instead, she’d been so angry at Roberto, so defensive over his slander and attempted murder of Nicola.

She’d only abated when Nicola put both hands on her shoulders and leaned in, forcing her to look at him.

“Calm down, Liliana,” he’d said firmly, and she’d reached out both trembling hands to cup his cheeks in such sweet relief.

He could have kissed her, right then and there. But she was bleeding, her armed grazed by the bullet. There was no longer any need for either of them be at the casino, and so he’d whisked her away to safety without looking back.

“Nicola,” Lili murmurs, worried, and he bites down hard on his lip.

Even now she’s more concerned with him than herself, when she could have died.

He kicks open the door to her room, seating her on her bed so carefully as though she is made of glass.

“Why did you do that?” he demands, the floodgates cracking, and she looks at him with bewildered eyes. “You could have been killed!”

She gapes, face scrunching up.

“So could you!”

“I’m mafia! We all know what’s coming! I’ll die one day for what I do and it won’t matter. But you?” Nicola looks at her, half wild, then turns away, running a hand through his hair. “Not you, Lili.”

“I’d do it again,” Lili says hotly, her eyes suddenly flinty, and he whirls back, “I saw what was going to happen and I wasn’t thinking when I moved—all I knew was that I didn’t want you to die. You were in danger! Nicola, I—“

He closes the remaining distance between them, kissing her hard and desperate. Lili topples back onto the bed, and Nicola leans into her, twining their fingers together. She’s surprised at the turn of events but only for a moment; she squeezes his hands back tightly, her mouth opening to taste more of him, just as desperate. Nicola presses into her, his kiss all teeth and tongue and unrestrained hunger, and when Lili finally untangles their hands she is fisting hers into his hair, pulling him closer, closer.

Liliana Adornato is a giver; it is her nature, to help and to serve. It’s what she likes to do. But here, with Nicola on top of her, tears clinging to his lashes and his turquoise eyes seeing nothing but her, Lili wants to take. She’ll give him everything he wants, but for once, she wants everything of his, too—his hands, his lips, his attention, and the heat that is vaporizing any bit of ice remaining between them.

“Nicola,” Lili gasps, when they part for air, “Nicola.”

“Liliana,” Nicola murmurs back, raw and ragged.

“I’d do it again,” she whispers, and he doesn’t know if she means jump in front of a bullet or kiss him back or both. “I’d do it all again for you, Nicola.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispers back, and kisses her again, gentler this time, and sweeter.

He mumbles something she can’t decipher, but she repeats his name against his mouth, sounding almost like a prayer.

The second time they part, he stares down at her, torn between agony and desire. She is flushed underneath him, breathing hard, her hair a mess and her shawl having slipped from her shoulders. But then his eyes trail to his handkerchief binding her wound; his face contorts as he regains his proper senses and he tears himself off of her.

Lili sits up, lunging forward and grabbing his arm before he can escape her room.

“Please,” she says, and Nicola looks like he’s in physical pain as he looks back at her, “Nicola, please. Don’t go.”

He goes still and they stare at each other.

“Don’t go,” she repeats, softer this time, and Nicola back towards her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

He surrenders.

A light knock sounds at Lili’s door late into the night.

“Come in,” Nicola responds, and it opens just enough for Gil to slip inside.

The Visconti Boss closes the door gently and leans to the side, smiling as he meets Nicola’s eyes. He keeps his voice low as he speaks, as does Nicola.

“Oh? When you responded, I expected to see some clothes off when I opened the door.”

Nicola rolls his eyes.

“Spare me your perversions, Gil,” he says, though he shifts a little as though to shield Lili’s sleeping face.

He’s sitting up in Lili’s bed, perfectly decent, legs stretched out. The girl is nestled against his side, sleeping soundly, one hand entwined with his.

There had been no salacious activities, though the knowledge of the line almost crossed was intoxicating between them, and the sight of each other’s swollen lips was…invigorating. There had, however, been more kisses shared, but in the end he’d simply held her close and stroked her hair as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart.

Gil smirks, but the expression bleeds from his face quickly enough.

“She okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And you?”

A pause.

“I will be, especially once all this is over,” he says, a little bitterly, and Gil shakes his head, sighing.

“You still thinking about breaking her heart, after all that? And this?”

He gestures vaguely, and Nicola shoots him a rueful look.

“Haven’t I already?” Nicola asks, and Gil smothers a derisive laugh.

“Far from it. You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that? Or if you’re waiting for her to break yours…if it even happens somehow, it’ll only be the death of you. You’re in too deep already, Nicola.”

He laughs softly.

“This is a lot of meddling, even for you, Gilbert,” he says, and Gil shrugs.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but—oh, who am I kidding? You know damn well both you and the signorina have turned my manor upside down since you’ve gotten here. Call it self-preservation, for the Family. And besides…I like you, Nicola.”

“Heart’s already taken, Gilbert.”

“Oh, now you admit it?”

Nicola looks down at Lili.

“I’m a dead man walking,” he tries, echoing a past conversation of theirs, but Gil snorts.

“For God’s sake, Nicola, just let her win.”

Gil walks out without waiting for a response, and Nicola is left alone with Lili again.

She’d fallen asleep quickly, despite their heated kisses earlier; all her adrenaline from the casino had finally worn off, leaving her exhausted. He’d assured her he would stay until she fell asleep, laying a hand over her eyes, so reminiscent of her first night at the Falzone manor. He feels at ease beside her, at peace looking at her sleeping face and hearing her breathe slow and even.

He hadn’t been lying to Gil, a moment ago. He still is a dead man walking, no matter how much Gil likes him. It’s Family first, in the mafia, and though he may be a Visconti now, he isn’t one truly. It’ll be an easy choice, if it comes down to him or another Visconti member. He is no longer a Falzone either; betrayal isn’t tolerated, and even if half of the Family doesn’t believe in his betrayal yet, the other half is out for his blood.

Hell, and Roberto is too, so that’s part of the police force as well.

The odds are stacked against him, but he still has his goals to achieve, plans that he’s laid for years. Since childhood, when Dante told him through tears that he hated the mafia and no longer wanted to be a part of it.

Nicola will see his plans come to fruition or die trying—freeing Dante is the one thing he will sacrifice himself for. Liliana…precious as she’s become, she does not supplant that.

The girl in question shifts, pressing herself closer against him, sighing softly.

“Nicola…” she murmurs, and he brushes a curl of hair from her cheek.

He only said he would stay until she fell asleep. Nicola has sat here for hours now, unable to bring himself to move.

Slowly, gently, he disentangles his fingers from hers and bends down to press one last kiss to her forehead.

He’s still there in the morning.

#piofiore #piofiore no banshou #piofiore fated memories #nicola francesca #liliana adornato #gilbert redford #fanfiction #I LOVE NICOLA SM...!!!!!#i love the falzone boys #may i now finally move on for piofiore and play a diff otoge #head empty just nicola francesca in my heart #i'm both laughing and exasperated that this is also 4k+ words #will i ever write anything that is like. less than 3k or something??? my god #this should have had 8000 more winter metaphors but i did my best

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

Note

How would The yandere teachers react to a darling that was know for delinquent behavior in there old school being completely normal and even super helpful in there class?

I'm sorry if I made you wait too long, holy shit, I love this ask-

I feel like I should, redo my characters, but, I'm still a little confused lol XD

Anyway, here we are :3

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Little delinquent…? [Yandere Teacher x "Delinquent"!Reader - Headcanons]:

I'm gonna do them separately, because, nyeh, why not? 🤷🏻‍♀️😙

→Matthew Robinson:

This man 👏🏻 Doesn't have time👏🏻 For this shit.

He heard all of the terrible things you did.

Or well, presumably did.

He had already dealt with delinquents who had done way worse than you, so you better not act like royalty on his class like the other ones, because he'll-

"- Hey! Good morning! My name is [Y/N] [L/N], it's nice to meet you!" You say, entering the class in such a hurry and with the brightest smile on the entire world on your face.

All students were taken aback by your sudden introduction, but even more about your cheerful attitude (since most of them already heard the rumors about you). The most surprised person, however, was your teacher.

Not only did you scare the life out of him, he didn't expect you being so nice with everyone. Maybe you weren't the student he was expecting, maybe this was all a coincidence?

Two students named [Y/N], while one was a troublemaker, the other one was a walking sunshine.

But that wouldn't make sense, there is only one [Y/N] [L/N] assigned to his class. Yet when looking at you, he doesn't see a delinquent, or someone that would cause him any trouble. He sees a little sweetheart.

He doesn't let his guard down just yet, however. You came in late and made a lot of noise just by introducing yourself, so you weren't exactly free from any scolding.

He needs to be sure that you aren't just acting up just because is your first day. He tells you to take a seat, pretty close to his desk. So he can keep a better eye on you.

Throughout the whole class, you been well-behaved and friendly with all your classmates, that were freaking out every time you said "hi" to them.

He thought about calling you out on your constant chatting, but then again, it was your first day and you seemed excited to know more about your classmates. And you weren't really talking all that much, just asking if you could borrow something you forgot.

He only gave you a couple of glances when you would speaking a little too loud, so you would take a hint. Yet, you seemed so… innocent. You didn't get angry or made a fuss saying that "you weren't even talking".

"- Oh… Sorry!" You would shy away with just a stare? Really?

You been paying close attention to what he says, and what he teaches you. It's nice to see you paying attention, but it feels so distracting.

After your first week, he heard other teachers talk about you, all of them were impressed with your kindness, even if they all were waiting a little troublemaker.

When school ended, you would help your teachers to clean the class before going back home. With isn't really needed, there are plenty of janitors around the school.

Yet there you are, chatting with the school staff and helping with their work.

He should probably stop stalking you. He has seen with his own eyes that you weren't the person that he heard about, you were better than what people thought you were.

However, something kept him from simply walking away, from letting you be and giving you your privacy.

Since your first day, he has taken the spot as your stern, grumpy teacher. He hasn't been necessarily mean towards you, but he would act a lot more distant with you than other students.

It was pretty selfish of him to act like this considering you haven't done anything wrong. But he wanted to keep observing.

In his head, the reasons behind doing this things were to see if you weren't the delinquent everyone was afraid off and to let you know that he doesn't tolerate troublemakers.

But inside his obsessive little heart, he was stalking you because he couldn't have enough of you, and he was being distant because it was how he was. He didn't knew how to react to your presence.

You managed to steal his heart in the three weeks, yet not even you or him noticed this.

→Madeline Allen:

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, please no!?

She doesn't really like conflict. So when she heard she would be dealing with a delinquent she was instantly frightened.

To make matters worse, she heard you came from her old high school, a school known for their terrible discipline and being the "breeding place" for most delinquents and gangs around town.

She hated that place so much, that after she graduated she burned her blue uniform jacket, so she couldn't remember all the terrible things that happened there.

But if you're from that school, and if you're a delinquent, then all her memories will come back to taunt her!

She is freaking out while waiting for her next class.

' Please don't come in, please don't come in, please don't come in-' She chanted inside her mind, hoping it would work somehow.

When all the students came in, none of them were wearing that disgusting blue jacket, and none of them looked… Like delinquents.

' Oh good, I guess they missed the first day of school!' Madeline thought happily, thinking that if you aren't here, she can prepare herself more when she has to see you.

She decided to purposely miss your name from the class calling, still thinking you weren't there. But when she finished the list and ask if she missed anyone, a soft and timid voice said:

"- H-Hi! You didn't say my name…" She looked at the student who said it. Finding out a adorable new student with beautiful bright eyes.

"- I'm sorry, dear. Can you tell me your name so I can write it down?"

"- It's [Y/N] [L/N]."

At that moment the whole atmosphere on the class changed. No one was expecting you to be the so called delinquent.

Madeline looked up again, afraid the student that she saw was only a mirage. You looked so cute and kind, there was no way you were as bad as they had thought.

But then again, if there was one thing that she learned from her time at Saint Bernard's School for Little Prodigies was that appearances aren't all that they seemed.

She didn't want to confess that she purposely missed your name, but she didn't want to lie about your name not being there either, so she only said:

"- Oh, I'm so sorry, your name is here, I guess I totally missed." Smooth.

You looked apprehensive, afraid your name wasn't in this class and you would have to go and find where could your class be, but when she said you belong here you looked so relieved.

It was adorable how you smiled at her, so eager to be in her class.

She can deny her growing curiosity. She didn't want to remember about her old school, yet she wanted to know how is it today.

You don't look or act like a bully. So maybe they finally changed their ways?

Looking at you being so attentive to her class and being such a sweetheart with school staff filled her with hope.

She decided to approach you by asking how was your older school, and although you feel a little scared of telling her, you do it anyway.

The truth was that you didn't spend as much time in there as most people think. You been there for four months and that was it. You couldn't put into words how terrible everything was, it was like hell on Earth!

You would go meet her in her class after school ended. She would offer you some cookies while you would try your best to explain how it was in that awful place.

You been the victim of awful pranks, bullying, you been accused of being a thief multiple times, even if no one has any proof. Gangs dominated the school and it was easy to see how the students were the ones that truly owned the place.

The only thing you remember learning in that school, was how to survive in a school after all classes ended, late at night, with minimum food and hiding away from the gangs that were fighting inside school at 1:00 a.m.

You also remember hearing that place was haunted, so yeah, it was your worst slumber party ever.

Every detail you told her made you remember the awful things you went through in the span of four months. You started to cry without even realizing.

And Madeline started crying too. She was in that place for three years. If you went through hell in four months, imagine going through it for three years.

But, oddly enough, she wasn't alarmed by the memories coming in. What she was truly worried about was you.

"- I-I don't how I did it, I-" You tried to speak. You tried to reason. How the hell did you survive?

"- Shh, it's okay." She interrupted you to hug you. To comfort you.

"- You're crying too, I'm sorry if-"

"- I know, don't worry about it."

You been there, you been through hell, yet you're so kind. You didn't change, you didn't let that awful place change who you were. She can tell you always been like this, thoughtful of others and kind.

You didn't let that place change you, like Madeline did.

You hugged her back and let her comfort you.

That was the moment where she decided, she won't let you get hurt anymore.

You been so gentle and helpful towards students and school staff, even if they all were scared of you. She can let anyone speak about you as if you were some sort of disease, not anymore.

She won't let that happen.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere x reader #yandere oc #special delivery headcanons #yandere teacher #yandere teacher x reader #special delivery request

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marvel-love19 · 4 years

Text

His Wife

Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader

Description: Bruce Wayne is attending a charity ball. But recently the famous Wayne couple had a fight. Having not seen her for over twenty-four hours, he is missing her terribly.

Warning(s): Some suggested themes, one swear word *shrugs* honestly I don’t remember, I wrote this at one in the morning so I know this is crap XD

Type: Fluff, little bit of angst (nothing really overly depressing), just some sadness

Words: 2,001 words

A/N: PLEASE! I did this at 1am in the morning and I got it started nice but I am sorry I ended it badly. Please enjoy! I take requests!

Not my gif! Credit to creator.

______________________________________________________________

Dull conversation, open bar, heavily intoxicated females, rich men, and… no wife. No beautiful wife to carry the conversation flowing with rude rich men, holding on his arm, keeping him away from all the alcohol. Where can she be?

Y/N Wayne. The love of Bruce Wayne’s life. The mother to their children. Beautiful, kind, selfless, stubborn, and his rock. Since being married for twenty-seven years, you need them every moment and feel lost without them. Twenty-seven beautiful, long years with his perfect Y/N. But Bruce’s beautiful Y/N is not here because of a stupid fight.

Flashback

“Bruce you can’t keep doing this!”

“This is what you signed up when you married me Y/N! What do you expect?”

“I expect my husband to listen to his wife when she says he has been overworking for three straight days and needs to get some rest!”

Bruce drags his large gloved hand down his drained face. They have been having this fight for the past hour and have not gotten anywhere. Y/N can tell all of this stress of another mission involving Poison Ivy has taken a toll on his body. Shoulders heavy, dark circles under his blue eyes, hair in a mess, and his suit still on for the last three days. He looked horrible. Bruce rests against the bat computer, ready for sleep but still refusing. Y/N stepped closer to her husband, crouching down, taking his gloved hand.

“Bruce…” Y/N starts softly refusing to burst into tears at her husband’s state. “You need to sleep, eat, and take your mind of this case for just a couple hours.”

It was hard for Bruce to resist his wife’s pleading when all he wanted to do was go to bed and cuddle with his wife, and forget about the case and the world. Y/N and Bruce both suffered from the lack of affection between the couple. But Bruce refused her request (which was more of a demand). Removing their intertwined hands, Bruce moved towards the bat computer to continue his work.

“Y/N, I can not do that.” Y/N’s face fell at those words, fighting back the sob that threatened to breakthrough. “This mission is too important, I will sleep later. I can not spare a couple of hours to just be with you because you feel lonely.”

Now those words stung. Bruce hears retreating steps out of the cave, while sobs follow. He knew he messed up, but he has no time to take back his words and apologize. He needs to keep working.

Even when he would rather console his crying wife and ask forgiveness.

But the mission is more important. There is no time for missing any detail.

Not even for his wife.

End of Flashback

Bruce drowns another champaign glass wishing for whiskey but knows that would upset Y/N. She never did like him drinking, since she doesn’t drink herself. And he wanted something more than alcohol could ever give him.

I shouldn’t have said that to her.

Yet he couldn’t. He hasn’t spoken to Y/N since last night, close to twenty-four hours without seeing his gorgeous wife. Ever since the happy couple got married Bruce has never stopped calling Y/N his wife, and he never will. At the beginning of their marriage of Bruce only ever calling Y/N his wife, they had a disagreement. More of a misunderstanding. Y/N had a trouble with the word wife. True she found it endearing, but she felt like an object. Her father only ever referred to Y/N’s mother as his wife, and that was possessive. With an abusive and manipulative father who only ever called Y/N’s mother wife, and her his daughter and never her name; you learn that is the only way that word can be expressed as.

During the first upbringing of this topic, Bruce made it very clear to Y/N, he only calls her his wife in an endearing way; nothing more. Over time, Y/N got used to it, and since then Bruce constantly reminds her that she is her own person and he just can’t believe she agreed to marry him.

Lost in thought, Bruce does not hear his eldest son approach him. Dick sighed loudly enough to drag his father from his thoughts about his wife.

“Will Mom be joining us shortly?”

And with that question the doors open to flashes of cameras and shouts from the paparazzi.

“Mrs. Wayne! Mrs. Wayne! Look over here! Mrs. Wayne!”

And that is when she entered.

Long blue silks billowed behind Y/N as she walked into the crowd. Navy blue fabric was wrapped up in a criss-cross pattern across her waist, hugging tightly to her curves. The navy blue dress fell to the floor to reveal navy blue heels. Hair pinned tightly up with diamond accessories with a diamond earring and necklace matching set. A delicate smoky eye made Y/N’s E/C pop complimented nicely with a nude lip.

Y/N was always confident and when she became the wife to the famous Bruce Wayne, she needed all the confidence she could muster. For the past twenty-four hours, Y/N has been crying and eating her feelings. But no one would ever tell that the famous couple was fighting from the way Mrs. Wayne looked.

Y/N strutted around the room, greeting many guests, shaking hands, and lastly meeting her husband. Knowing she had to keep up with appearances and being really tired of being sad and angry at her husband, Y/N finally approached him. Greeting her husband with a kiss long enough to be polite in public.

During the kiss, Bruce could tell his wife was still upset with him. As Bruce was about to talk with Y/N, she had already moved on to her children.

“Dickie! How are you? Don’t you look dashing.” A wide smile graced Y/N’s lips as she began to talk with her eldest son. “You have been gone for far too long. I miss my baby boy.”

“Mom you still have Tim and Damian home with you.” Kissing her son’s cheek, she pouts at his statement. Pointing a stern finger at him, going on about how she wants him to visit her, and not to be a stranger.

The mother and son duo laughed together, soon accompanied by the rest of the Wayne children. While the conversation continued between a mother and her sons, a certain husband felt alone. Bruce was awestruck by how his wife entered the ball, yet still knowing she was still sad at him underneath all of her glow and charm.

I did that. She’s still sad because of me.

While Bruce was beating himself in his mind on how he messed up horribly with his wife, his sons were trying to get his mother to talk with their father.

“Ma, he knows he messed up. Be the bigger person like you always tell me to be. Go and talk to him.” Jason pleaded with his mother.

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him. “Jason you never choose that way when I tell you to.”

The youngest bat brothers snickered earning an elbow to the ribs from Jason. Glaring at Jason, Y/N continues. “I know I should talk to him. But me talking to him has not made a difference for the past three days.”

“Umi, but maybe it will work now. If you just speak to father—”

“No Damian.” Y/N shakes her head. “Three days I have been trying to get that man to come to bed and eat some food. But all I get in return is that the case is more important than taking care of his body. A case is more important than realizing that it is draining him and he needs to rest his body. A case is more important than his wife.”

During the middle of Y/N’s argument, her husband stands behind his frustrated wife.

“And when that said wife tries to reason with that man and be a caring, supportive wife, she gets shut down. Gets accused of being lonely and should not be asking for her husband’s company to take care of himself. Yes, I am not going to deny… I have been lonely. I am an attention seeker of your father’s. But I want him to take care of himself. Having no time for his wife and yet appears for a charity ball. I know what I was going into with your father but he also knew what he was getting into with me when he married me. He needs to grow up. I may be wanting your father’s attention a lot but he needs to grow up and stop begging for mine to drag him into bed.”

As Y/N ends her little statement, still not noticing her handsome husband behind her. Y/N throws her hands up in the air in frustration as she can only think about how Bruce the night before.

“Honestly, your father is a baby. Bruce Wayne is a baby.” Y/N ends with. Laughter fills the tiny circle of her sons by their mother’s statement, Y/N soon joining in. A deep chuckle ripples through Bruce’s chest behind Y/N and she freezes.

Oh crap!

Slowly spinning around, a blushing Y/N turns to face her extremely attractive husband. A smug expression fills Bruce’s features as his wife pouts. Crossing her arms, Y/N reaches a hand up to his face as her eyes bore into his. Pulling Bruce’s face towards hers so their foreheads could touch. No words are said out loud to express the apology between the couple. Twenty-seven years, there was no need for words. Bruce tilts his lips down pressing softly to convey all the love he had for her. Y/N kissed just as lovingly. The moment ended too quickly to a fighting beginning to construct behind the couple.

“I told you they would make up here before 11:30 pm!”

“No way Grayson! Kissing does not equal them making up!”

“Yes, it does Todd!”

“I presume you need to pay up Todd to Grayson and me.”

“HELL NO DEMON!”

“Jason! Do not call Damian a demon.”

“Sorry, Ma.”

“Pay up Todd!”

“I think the fu—”

“Jason you know how mom feels about you swearing.”

As more of the fighting continued, as the parents rolled their eyes ignoring their sons continuing their beautiful moment together.

Bruce looked deeply into his wife’s eyes. “I truly am sorry for saying that, my love. I didn’t mean it and tonight and tomorrow morning, I’m all yours. Promise.”

Y/N giggled, “You sure you can spare that much time?”

“That will be plenty of time for what I have in store for you, Mrs. Wayne.” Y/N drags her hands down his chest to his muscular arms to give an appreciative squeeze to the flexed muscle.

“Oh my! And what would that be, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips tightly, licking his lips thinking of his sweet wife trapped underneath his as he—

“Oh, gross mom! That is disgusting!”

“Get a room!”

“I know which wing I am going to stay out of tonight.”

“Ma, please stop.”

The couple ignores their annoying sons to start kissing passionately. Soon the gagging and comments get too much for Bruce. Sending his famous bat glare shuts up the interruption as he moves to kiss his wife again. Y/N giggles in the kiss as she feels Bruce dragging her to the entrance to the cars. The couple ready to escape and finally be alone together after Bruce’s reluctance, their fight, and now they are finally free.

“I love you, my husband.”

“I love you too, my wife.” Sealing their love in a kiss, Bruce snatches the keys getting to ravish his lovely wife.

It’s true.

Bruce Wayne loves his wife and she loves him too.

The End

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

- Loves!

140 notes · View notes

titriwrites · 4 years

Text

Polaroid Picture -- Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Huh, so what have you all been up to since April? *hides* I’m so sorry for the wait, but here, have a (hopefully) nice surprise on this lovely Sunday evening

Read either here on AO3 or under the cut :) And enjoy!

Chapter 13

Beth drives, humming along to the music on the radio, bobbing her head. It’s a warm day, and with the weekend approaching she’s in a good mood. Well, it’s not only the weather and the lack of traffic on her way – she’s taken the Friday off too in order to have one more day in Suffolk – that makes her happy today. It’s also that she hasn’t seen Diana in a few months, and she’s excited to be invited.

She wasn’t sure, Beth has to admit, about coming. It’s always been a little strange – at least her friends say so – to still be so close to her ex-husband’s family. But they don’t really understand. While they’re all close to their respective in laws, there’s something about knowing your boyfriend’s and later husband’s family almost as good as your own. They’d been so close, Tom, Emma, Sarah, Matt and Beth. There’d been sleepovers and ghost stories long before sex and love stories. And now with her own parents gone, Tom’s family became hers, and they adopted her and Matt with open arms.

It’s not her fault, really, that Tom’s been gone for so long to lose contact.

But she’s not thinking about Tom now. She’s enjoying the scenery, and then she’s going to enjoy the company of Diana, Sarah, Emma and their husbands and children. Beth laughs softly to herself. Jack and Yakov will possibly suffer a lot with all those women chatting and laughing away – though to be fair, there will also be cooking involved, and they’re almost always nice to the boys.

After half an hour longer on the road, Beth parks in the driveway of Diana’s home. It’s gotten even warmer, this Thursday quickly turning out to be lovely enough to spend some of the evening with a walk on the beach. Beth takes a deep breath as she gets out of her car. Goodness, she missed the smell of the seaside.

She’s not even fully reached the front door of the house, bag now in hand, when the door swings open and the shout from Sarah’s five-year-old daughter can be heard.

“Aunty Libby!” she shouts while running full speed ahead, her mother’s laughter behind her. Beth has learned not to cringe at the sound of the once so very familiar nickname. It’s not Violet’s fault her uncle – an uncle she probably doesn’t even know – used to call her the same. She simply couldn’t say ‘Beth’, and Diana, bless her heart, called her Libby once and it stuck with the little girl.

The little girl who’s now reaching Beth, who sweeps her up in her arms and twirls both of them around twice, shouts of joys coming from Violet. “Hello, Poppy.”

She scrunches up her nose. “That’s not my name.”

“Noooo?” Beth lips shape an ‘O’. “Really? Sorry, then I used the wrong flower. How are you, little Lilly?”

The girl in her arms giggles. “That’s not my name, too!”

“What? Just how many flowers are there then? Is it Rose? Or Petunia?”

“You’re silly, Libby.”

“Oh!” Beth pokes the little girl in the tummy, making her giggle. “I know. Hello, lovely Violet.” The smile on her face makes Beth almost cringe with how much it reminds her of Tom. Again, it’s not Violet’s fault. She simply resembles the Hiddleston part of her family a lot.

“Hello, Libby.”

They grin at each other as Beth carries her niece – she officially still is that just as Beth is her aunty, right? – back to Sarah and what Beth assumes is the rest of the family. And just as she thought, Sarah, Emma and Diana all greet the duo by the door. Already it’s a loud bunch, but Beth soaks it up and revels in it. There are hugs and warm words, Beth is putting down her bag, and in the background, she can hear Jack and Yakov presumably in the living-room watching what sounds like a movie.

Violet is still in her arms, she’s a bit heavier than the last time they’ve seen each other, which was probably three or four months ago. But it doesn’t matter, this heaviness. Beth’s so happy to see them all again.

But then she notices it. Emma and Sarah are exchanging glances, seemingly trying to convince the other to do something. Diana is the personified calm. Before Beth can ask about it though, Violet pipes up from her place in Beth’s arms.

“Can I sleep in your room, Aunt Libby?”

“Of course, you can if you want to.” Beth’s room is on the first floor right at the end of the hallway. She used to stay in there when she visited with Tom. It doesn’t look the same anymore, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to sleep there. Depending on how many people are in Diana’s house little Violet does have her own room though, on the ground floor with Sarah and Yakov sleeping in the former office. Maybe the parents were simply tired of it? “But don’t you want to sleep in your own room?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Oh?” Beth feels the mood shift. Emma’s and Sarah’s faces change, and this time there is a small flicker of something like cringing on Diana’s face. Blink and you miss it, though.

“Nah. Tom and Julia sleep there.”

Silence. Beth grins, then blinks. Huh? She’s heard ‘Tom and Julia’, but that can’t be. She’s tried not to even think those names for the last month. And yet, now it seems as Violet’s said them. Beth feels herself freezing.

“What?” It’s her voice filling the silence. Even the living-room seems to be quiet now. Or maybe Beth is just numb and deaf.

Violet’s got her sass from the Hiddlestons too, because she’s rolling her eyes now. “Tom and Julia sleep there,” she repeats. Slowly and a bit louder. Nope. Doesn’t sound better the second time around. Do they maybe know other couples with that name?

“Your…” Beth clears her throat. “Uhm…” She looks around. The adults exchange glances again, this time the sisters seem to send their mum looks that say ‘I told you so’. Beth still doesn’t know what’s going on. “Tom is here?”

***

Turns out, Tom is there. Not currently, and not for the past hours Beth’s been sitting in Diana’s kitchen, trying to decide whether she should just leave before Tom and Julia are back from their walk – so much Diana told her – or whether she can be brave and stay. But an entire long weekend with the two of them? No. Someone will be going to get killed that way. Or maybe both.

“Okay,” she sighs, sipping her tea and shooting a glance Diana’s way, who’s sitting across from her at the other end of the kitchen table. “Tell me again why you did it? And why you’re meddling with this?”

Diana actually has the nerve to look offended. “I don’t meddle. I simply invited my daughter in law.”

“Ex.”

“Not yet.”

“Diana.”

“Elizabeth.”

Beth opens her mouth to answer, maybe yell a bit, but she can’t go on, because in that moment there are noises at the front door. It’s the first time Diana starts to look a bit panicked and Beth watches with some sort of satisfaction, before her own panic sets in.

She doesn’t want this. She’s never wanted to see Tom – and most of all Julia – again, and now they’re going to walk through the kitchen door in less than 30 seconds. Maybe she can hide, or make a really quick exit through the garden behind the house? Or maybe hide in the garden? Yeah, running and hiding sound like good options now. Beth almost chokes on her tea, setting the mug down with shaking hands.

There’s laughter in the hallway, and the TV in the living-room is switched off. Of course, the family wants to listen in. A bunch of nosy people, the Hiddlestons and their partners.

And then, Beth catches a glimpse of Tom holding hands with his fiancée as they walk past the door, hanging up their jackets. Tom looks wary. Of course, he must have spotted the car in the driveway.

Then he turns his head, and suddenly Beth locks eyes with him. Her heart is beating fast, her mouth goes dry, and she can’t hear anything apart from her own breathing. Tom smiles, then blinks, then frowns, and in the end, he just looks shocked with eyes wide open, lips parted and his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows heavily.

Oh God. Damn, she should have left.

Before she can voice that thought or even think about anything else, Tom is approaching the kitchen with large steps, dragging Julia along with him.

“What—" Beth hears Tom’s fiancée, but there is no answer, because now Tom’s in the kitchen with them, looking from Diana to Beth, Diana and then Beth again.

“What the fuck is going on?” He goes from confused to angry in mere seconds, and although Beth has known him for more than twenty years now, she’s never seen him like that. Mad at her, yes, silent, brooding, disappointed, childish, all of that. But never once angry like this, veins pulsing, voice shaking along with the finger he’s pointing at her now, swallowing hard and going red and sweaty in seconds. “Why are you here?” he hisses. “What are you planning?”

“Tom—”

“No, Mum. I’m not talking to you at the moment.” He’s seething now, and despite the panic that settles in her gut, in her heart and in her brain, Beth hears footsteps approaching from the living-room. To listen in? Or to act quickly in case this goes out of hand? “I want to know what my ex-wife is doing here the same weekend we’re visiting.” He’s addressing Beth once more. “Do you even have any shame? Doesn’t this feel the slightest bit awkward for you?”

That’s it. That’s enough. But before Beth can stand up from the table and take her leave or even open her mouth to defend herself, Diana speaks up.

“I invited her. She didn’t know you’d be here, I haven’t told her. Don’t blame Beth for everything going on in your life, especially not the things going wrong. She’s a guest of mine.”

Beth swallows, and Tom does too. Behind him, Julia pipes up for the first time since they’ve entered the kitchen. “Well, this is lovely.”

“I want her gone,” Tom whispers, mostly to himself.

“Good,” Beth answers. “I want to go.”

“No!” It’s Diana, and she looks like she’s up for a fight to get her will. “I invited Beth over. Get over with it. I want Elizabeth here.”

“You want me to go then?”

Beth huffs. There it is, the childish side. Big, coming from someone who’s not cared about coming or going for the past six years.

“Don’t be stupid, Tom. I want both of you here.” With a glance at Julia, Diana clears her throat. “The three of you, of course. You’re all adults, you’re going to meet on more than this one occasion, I’m sure. If you meant what you said about visiting more often, there’ll be birthdays spent together.”

Beth glances at the couple. Still angry, still confused. This is going to be horrible. Worse than any family gathering she’s ever had to endure.

***

She stays. She’s actually staying in his mum’s house at the same time he’s there with Julia. Tom still can’t quite understand it. She must feel how uncomfortable this is, right?

And what has his mother been thinking inviting Libby... Beth, Beth of course, over? Tom believes his ex-wife when she says she wasn’t involved. She wouldn’t be that vile, and he can feel the awkwardness radiating off of her.

Julia isn’t any help at all, either. Tom almost feels like she’s bathing in this situation. Feeling smug, showing she’s with Tom now. Showing how Libby... Beth isn’t. He should say something. But should he really? Beth can leave too. She should, actually. It’s his mum’s house. He’s got every right to be here.

He sighs. He wanted to sit in his mother’s garden, relax, feel the sun on his face and not think about anything. That didn't work out so well. And yes, that's mostly Julia's fault. And maybe a little bit Beth's as well. Nah, that’s not true, and Tom knows that. But Julia went shopping. For him. And he doesn’t want to assume, but it could be possible that Julia maybe wants to show Beth who’s the boss of him now as well – not that there actually is one, thank you very much.

But yeah, anyway. Julia went shopping, he’s got new clothes – clothes he’s already wearing to make her happy – and then she went for a walk with his family. Well, at least she can’t see Tom’s pain then. He gets up and winces immediately. Damn it all to hell. Slowly, very slowly, he makes his way through the patio door and into the kitchen. Tom simply has to make it to his room, get out of the clothes and think of something to say to Julia. Maybe he could wrinkle it a bit? He glances at the fridge. No, no, she wouldn’t believe him if he said he used ketchup. For what anyway? Maybe he should fry some eggs?

Before Tom can make the – admittingly quite desperate – attempt to ruin his clothes, a voice stops him. He sighs. Of course, Beth didn’t go with them.

“I’m sorry, but how old are you?”

Huh? He looks at her, leaning there against the kitchen door leading into the hall. “Excuse me?”

Libby’s voice is full of laughter, her face looks like it’s almost splitting in two. “You look like a 12-year-old after a massive growth spurt.”

Tom looks down at himself. He knows what Beth means, but he won’t admit it for the life of him. “It’s fashionable now,” he tries to argue, “men wear it like this.” He was assured of it by Julia and the woman in the shop at least. He's not a hundred percent convinced, but what does he know about fashion anyway?

Beth shrugs, the grin still on her face. “Some men do, yes. But you hate short trousers. And you should. They look terrible, not just on you. Why would you wear trousers that are neither long nor really short? They don’t even reach your ankles.” She looks on sheepishly as she finishes. “Sorry, it’s really not my business.”

It’s really not. But Tom’s tired and he doesn’t want to argue with her. Doesn’t even want to agree with her, either. He just needs to make it down the hall, he’s in pain. So, he just shrugs and makes his way past her, wincing when his shoes – also new – make contact with the sore skin on his Achilles tendon.

Tom knows she’s going to say something just by hearing her take a breath. “Tom, you’re in pain.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m not.”

“You’re limping.”

“It’s the way I’m walking.” He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t. But she’s right, and she’s not supposed to be. She doesn’t know him anymore.

Okay, Tom admits, even if it’s just to himself. Beth doesn’t need to know him to find out he’s in pain. He’s an actor, yes, but not in his private time. Well, not with Beth. Never has been.

She snorts, and Tom rolls his eyes. He’s almost out of the door, though. “That’s totally not the way you’re normally walking.”

He stops, can’t help the thought rushing through his head – and then straight out of his mouth, because apparently his body is betraying him now. “Ah, you’ve been watching me, huh?”

He blushes in time with Beth, and while Tom tries to make his way out of the room – finally – she stutters, “What? No! I haven’t been watching you. I’ve fucking known you for more than 20 years of my life! I... I... oh, fuck off, I haven’t watched you walk. That’s just creepy, Tom. For fuck’s sake.”

Okay, he stops again, making himself wince once more, but this? This is too good. “Yeah, well. That made me believe you,” he smirks. Tom turns, ignoring the death glare shot his way. “Shit.” He’s sure his Achilles tendons are already blistering.

Tom hears the, “Oh, for fuck’s sake”, but he doesn’t even have time to ask what might be wrong with her now, before he’s dragged to the guest bathroom by his arm, wincing and limping all the way, protesting too, because damn it all, this really, really hurts.

“What the heck is wrong with your feet, Tom?” she asks after she’s made him sit on the toilet seat. He looks up at her, almost sheepishly, feeling like a little boy or young man again, who somehow forgot to do the laundry or bring all the items on the shopping list.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, but then laughs out loud at the exasperated look on Beth’s face. “I’ve got blisters, okay?” Seeing her raised brow Tom continues. “I’ve got new shoes, because apparently mine don’t work with the new trousers. But you shouldn’t see the socks in them. So, I didn’t put them on. I’m barefoot in new shoes, and it hurts. Happy now?”

“Oh, Tom.” She laughs at him, but shakes her head, and Tom is torn between feeling incredibly stupid and happy it’s out and he’s not the only one thinking this was a bad idea. Because he knows that laugh. It’s not meant to be mean, actually she’s already thinking of solutions. She can’t really help herself, it’s just the way she is. “I’ll get you some plasters for that. And please, please promise me you get some socks for those shoes.” Tom nods. He’s too stunned to do anything else. “Alternatively, I can just burn those trousers and say it was an accident,” she winks, “it’s not like I can get on Julia’s bad side any more than I already am.”

And with that she’s gone, leaving Tom to sit on that loo, preparing to take off his shoes. Huh. She’s probably right about that. But he’s not sure if he should feel the way he does about it.

***

Beth hasn’t stopped smiling and grinning since yesterday. She also can't stop shaking her head at Tom’s stupidity. He looked like a teenager in puberty. After a massive growth spurt of course, in love with the most popular girl in school – not that she can relate, she's never been that – who makes him wear the ‘cool’ clothes. He’s never been like that, though, not when Beth knew him anyway. Well, she sighs, people change, and Tom certainly did. But they’ve already established that, right? Right.

She looks around the room, her things packed and ready to be taken to the car. The weekend has been nice, as much as it could with people in it, you don’t want to spend your time with. At least she got to see Tom’s family. Anyway, she can't change it now, so why mourn the time she couldn’t spend with them without Julia running around the house. Or the beach. Or the town. Plus, it’s Sunday, she’s going home today, she won't have to see the two of them ever again, if she doesn’t want to. For real, this time.

Beth takes her bag downstairs with her, where Diana, Sarah and Emma are sitting together in the living-room with biscuits and tea. The men are outside at the playground with little Violet, having said goodbye to Beth earlier. As she looks outside the window and into the garden, she can see Julia pacing on the lawn, her phone pressed to her ear. She looks somewhat excited. Good for her, Beth supposes.

But Tom doesn’t. His hands are tight in his hair, gripping it. He’s frustrated, and he’s also trying to say something. He doesn’t, though. Huh. And then Julia hangs up and comes closer. Beth looks away when they start hugging. No need to watch that.

“Beth?”

“Huh?” She looks around the room. Diana and the girls are grinning at her.

“See anything you like?” Diana asks, pointing outside, her head tilted.

“Just checked.” Her cheeks feel hot, Beth just hopes she doesn’t resemble a tomato.

“Yeah,” Emma pipes up, her eyes glancing Tom’s way. Beth won't look. She won't. “They've been out there for quite some time now.”

Beth shrugs. “Well, maybe they’ve got some things to discuss. They do have to leave eventually, right? Go back to Los Angeles. Or New York. Or, wherever. Don’t they have some work to do?”

Now, the three women Beth loves do dearly are looking at her again. “I don’t know,” Sarah answers. “Do they? I haven’t seen my brother in six years, he sure as hell didn’t inform me about his schedule.”

“Sarah,” Diana admonishes, “he’s tried really well these past few days. Violet adores him.”

It’s clear to see Sarah – and Emma as well – wants to add something, but she can’t, because while they talked, Julia and Tom have made their way back into the house. Julia is looking all giddy, almost bouncing on her heels.

“We want to tell you something!”

Tom really, really doesn’t look like he wants to tell them anything, to be honest. And all of the sudden, Beth isn’t sure she wants them to tell anything, either. Maybe she can just leave very quietly?

“Julia,” he tries, “maybe not now?” He glances Beth’s way, and her suspicions are confirmed. A quick exit is out of the question now, though. Maybe she can drown them out? Or maybe make the ground swallow her.

“Especially now! Elizabeth is part of the plan after all.” Well, that just sounds like shit now.

“Nah,” she says. “I’m not sure I’m part of anything to be honest. Also, I really need to get on the road now. Busy week ahead of me. You wouldn’t believe how many women decided to have their babies next week. Pregnant ladies everywhere.” Emma squeezing her fingers and Tom’s wide eyes make Beth stop her rambling. Yeah, she knows, she knows, no need to rub it in, that was bad. So, she presses her lips together and watches the car crash in front of her happening quietly.

“We’ve just been on the phone with Brian and Judy,” Julia starts her explanation, “they’re our publicists by the way, and they thought it’d be a great idea to go with the flow now, so to speak. And we think it’d be great as well! People got so used to seeing us here in the UK. First in Oxford, then London, and now here. It really would be fitting.”

While Beth feels the heat rising in her body, her heart hammering in her chest, her moth going dry and Emma’s fingers gripping tighter, Diana speaks up. “Excuse me, but I think I speak for all of us, when I say that I don’t have any idea what you’re actually talking about.”

“We’re having our wedding in Oxford, of course!” Julia is grinning, Tom is definitely not.

***

Tagging (oops, please let me know if I used the right list, it’s been a while :D) @devikafernando @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @mrshiddleston-uk @nonsensicalobsessions @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @pipolaki

#polaroid picture #beth + tom #chapter 13 #tom hiddleston fanfiction #real person fanfiction

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chaotetothecore · 3 years

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Bijuu-nin AU [海深外伝]

He is tired. He’s been tired for so long, and he thought a nap would help. Is he less tired now? More awake, more aware? Probably not. He’s not sure what went wrong. He fell asleep, and now he’s trapped. The one he’s bound to (Guard or Cellmate?) feels like lightning, but it doesn’t have the fluidity to be truly safe with him. He is tired. He is also scared.

He doesn’t want to be here, with a seal that sends waves of pain so frequently, with a child(?) that’s as scared as he is, and maybe more confused.

Obito is small, the way so many of the veteran shinobi ambling through the streets are small. The Village was meant to protect them, Obito thinks, Obito is sure he’s heard. It’s not like his memory goes back far enough to know the truth. To know if there are more children who came back than before. To know if Hashirama was not simply a clan head who wanted more.

What does Hokage even mean if a Hokage can’t stop this?

He looks at his small hands and swallows.

He’s sitting at the memorial stone, has been reading and rereading the same names (really just the one) since before dawn. Shisui (so small, so little, so deadly fast and smart) had stopped by not long after, dropped off a bento bearing all the hallmarks of Mikoto’s cooking. He, Shisui, had cocked a head at Obito, like the birds who signed his back. He, Obito, had felt nothing, felt like a small animal. He, Obito, was grateful when Shisui left. Even if it still felt like nothing but a yawning cavern opening beneath his feet but leaving him standing.

His hands are trembling, chopsticks laid across the open bento at his side. He’s barely picked at it, but he hasn’t felt hungry (liar) since he woke up after Kannabi Bridge.

He wonders if he should go visit Rin at work, at the hospital. He catches a whiff of antiseptic blowing on the wind and swallows, clenching and unclenching his (bloody, clean) fists. That’s right, he doesn’t need to go there. Rin said she would pick him up for dinner later. He’d be late otherwise. He’s always late.

He reads the name(s) on the stone again. He looks at small hands. His hands were tiny.

If Village couldn’t save children, then what were they there for?

SUMMARY: Kannabi Bridge. Obito (13/14) isn’t fast enough to save Kakashi (9/10). As per flipped canon, Kakashi is (rightfully) presumed to have been crushed to death (although none of Team Minato actually see him dead/dying). Kiri-nin pick up Kakashi, planning to use him as leverage (maybe just for Madara’s Sanbi bomb). - 1 year later, Kakashi has realized he’s a bomb and manages to successfully escape Kirigakure. He avoids Konoha, because he was the Yellow Flash’s apprentice and he knows where must be the most dangerous place for him to be. (He’s heard things, too, and councilman Shimura Danzou just keeps coming up.) He avoids the Konoha-nin too. - 3 years later, Kakashi (13/14) has mainly stuck to civilian areas and wild lands, though he’s kept an ear to the shinobi ground (so to speak, sometimes literally). At some point, he began regular work as a shiphand on the cargos running between far North and far South. - Due to the poorly designed seal (Madara may see intricate seals but he can’t replicate this and Zetsu was never inclined to study the art) he and Isobu swing from not hearing each other at all, to hearing the other too much too closely too loud. When Madara (who has other plans in motion) begins a chase on the Sanbi, it takes a full year. Only a year. Madara tries to break the seal, pull out the Sanbi, but only manages to fuck with the seal until it’s worse than it was. The faulty seal blends Kakashi and Isobu’s personalities into a single entity, a bijuu-ghost barely held to their corpse by an inert bomb seal. - Now Kaibuka [海深] (14/15 give or take a super long time), they’re perpetually youthful~~ until they can manage to ditch the fleshsuit. (They can’t quite figure it out yet, bc whenever they’re hurt too much like whatever hurt their eye they automatically heal from it.) Due to the blending, their memories have been mixed and crushed up together, so that even many of their memories of Isobu have been altered by their memories of Kakashi. - They wander the Nations once more, this time stealthily hopping around Ninja areas as much as they poke around Civilian areas. They make a (rather comfy, thank you) nest in the remains of what could only be Uzushiogakure. They primarily avoid Konoha (something, something, dangerous? they’re not sure anymore. it’s all a little fuzzy), though they occasionally swing through Land of Fire. They go through Kiri more than there. - Back at Konoha: The rest of Team Minato has managed to survive both the Second and Third NWWs. Obito is on the Hokage succession track (determined to become the leader that can end wars before they begin), and Danzo is too pressed for space to take out anyone, least of all Shisui. Madara attacks, but is repelled by greater forces. Kushina survives with a healthy little Naruto to learn sealing at her knee, and Minato looks into who exactly gave the order for the Uchiha to stay entirely away from the fighting. The Hatake Home and Properties have been placed under the ownership of the Civilian Branch, and the sensitive scrolls (including Pakkun +) have been closed away.

(A/N: That election, huh?~~~ I’ve had this sitting since May of last year, so you know it’s been marinating. *pads off to down some celebratory brandy* If you didn’t catch it, that is Isobu narrating at the top, and Kakashi is both Lightning and Water inclined. I say inclined, bc I doubt that people will fit squarely into the predetermined holes in any system. Obito is both older than Kakashi and coming from a different background, so his reaction to this trauma is a bit different from Kakashi’s. Namely, Obito is disillusioned with the system. He’s understanding now that things in the Village were never as good [or righteous] as he thought they were.)

#fanfic ideas #naruto #naruto au #alternate universe #bijuu-nin au #snippet #obito #kakashi #sanbi #isobu #jinchuriki

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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You know what America needs? More mirrors for princes—the Renaissance genre of advice books directed at statesmen. On the Right, we have many books that identify, and complain about, the problems of modernity and the challenges facing us. Some of those books do offer concrete solutions, but their audience is usually either the educated masses, who cannot themselves translate those solutions into policy, or policymakers who have no actual power, or refuse to use the power they do have. Scott Yenor’s bold new book is directed at those who have the will to actually rule. He lays out what has been done to the modern family, why, and what can and should be done about it, by those who have power, now or in the future. Let’s hope the target audience pays attention.

The Recovery of Family Life instructs future princes in two steps. First, Yenor dissects the venomous ideology of feminism, which seeks to abolish all natural distinctions between the sexes, as well as all social structures that organically arise from those distinctions. Second, he tells how the family regime of a healthy modern society should be structured. By absorbing both lessons and applying them in practice, the wise statesman can, Yenor hopes, accomplish the recovery of family life. (Yenor himself does not compare his book to a mirror for princes; he’s too modest for that. But that’s what it is.)

…

You will note that this is a spicy set of positions for an academic of today to hold. You will therefore not be surprised to learn that Yenor was the target of cancel culture before being a target was cool. He is a professor of political philosophy at Boise State University, and in 2016, in response to Yenor’s publication of two pieces containing, to normal people, anodyne factual statements about men and women, a mob of leftist students tried to defenestrate him. Yenor was “homophobic, transphobic, and misogynistic.” (We can ignore that the first two of those words are mostly content-free propaganda terms designed to blur discourse, though certainly to the extent they do have meaning, that meaning should be celebrated—I would have given Yenor a medal, if I had been in charge of Boise State.) They didn’t manage to get him fired (he has tenure and refused to bend), but the usual baying mob, led by Yenor’s supposed peers, put enormous pressure on him, which could not have been easy. He still teaches there; whether it is fun for him, I do not know, but it certainly hasn’t stopped him promulgating the truth.

…

Yenor begins by examining the intellectual origins of the rolling revolution, found most clearly within twentieth-century feminism. One service Yenor provides is to draw the battle lines clearly. He does this by swimming in the fetid swamps of feminism; I learned a lot I did not know, although none of it was pleasing. He spends a little time discussing so-called first-wave feminism, but much more on second-wave feminists, starting with Simone de Beauvoir, through Betty Friedan, and into Shulamith Firestone, this latter a literally insane harridan who starved herself to death. The common thread among these writers was their baseless claim that women had no inherent meaningful difference from men, and that women could only be happy by the abolition of any perceived difference. This was to lead to self-focused self-actualization resulting in total autonomy, and a woman would know she had achieved this, most often, by making working outside the home the focus of her existence. Friedan was the great popularizer of this destructive message, of course, which I recently attacked at length in my thoughts on her book The Feminine Mystique.

…

After this detailed examination of core feminist ideas, Yenor suffers more, slogging through the thought about autonomy of various two-bit modern con men, notably Ronald Dworkin and John Rawls. He analyzes the dishonest argumentative methods of all the Left, in general and in specific with regard to family topics—false claims mixed with false dichotomies and false comparisons, what he calls the “liberal wringer,” the mechanism by which any argument against the rolling revolution is dishonestly deconstructed and all engagement with it avoided. The lesson for princes, I think, is to not participate in such arguments, and to remember what our enemies long ago learned and put into practice—that power is all.

Yenor describes how the modern Left (which he somewhat confusingly calls “liberalism,” but Rawls and his ilk are not liberal in any meaningful sense of the term, rather they are Left) uses the law to achieve its goal of the “pure relationship,” meaning the aim that all relationships must be ones of free continuous choice, that is, without any supposed repression. This leads to various destructive results when it collides with reality, including the reality of parent-child bonds, and more generally is hugely destructive of social cohesion. From this also flow various deleterious consequences resulting from ending supposed sexual repression; this section is replete with analysis of writings from Michel Foucault to Aldous Huxley, and contains much complexity, but in short revolves around what was once a commonplace—true freedom is not release from constraints, but the freedom to choose rightly, to choose virtue and not to be a slave to passions, and rejection of this truth is the basis of many of our modern problems.

…

Finally, Yenor turns to what should be done, which is the most noteworthy part of the book. As he says, “Intellectuals who defend the family rightly spend much time exposing blind spots in the contemporary ideology. All this time spent in the defensive crouch, however, distracts them from thinking through where these limits [i.e., the limits Yenor has just outlined in detail] point in our particular time and place. Seeing the goodness in those limits, it is necessary also to reconstruct a public opinion and a public policy that appreciates those limits.” Thus, Yenor strives to show what a “better family policy” would be.

This is an admirable effort, but I fear it is caught on the horns of a dilemma. The rolling revolution does not permit any stopping or slowing; much less does it permit any retrenchment or reversal. Our enemies don’t care what we think a better family policy would be. And if we were to gain the power to implement a better family policy, by first smashing their power, there is no reason for it to be as modest as that Yenor outlines—rather, it should be radical, an utter unwinding of the nasty web they have woven, and the creation of a new thing. Not a restoration, precisely, but a new thing for our time, informed by the timeless Old Wisdom that Yenor extols. The defect in Yenor’s thought, or at least in his writing, is refusing to acknowledge it is only power that matters for the topics about which he cares most. But presumably the future princes at whom this book is aimed will know this in their bones.

Yenor himself doesn’t exactly exude optimism. Nor does he exude pessimism, but he begins by telling us that “we are still only in the infancy” of the rolling revolution. This seems wrong to me; in the modern age, time is compressed, and fifty years is plenty of time for the rolling revolution, a set of ideologies based on the denial of reality, to reach its inevitable senescence, when reality reasserts itself with vigor. This is particularly true since every new front opened by the revolution is more anti-reality, more destructive, and more revolting to normal people, who eventually will have had enough, and the sooner, if given the right leadership.

…

For most purposes, what Yenor advocates would be a restoration of family policy, both in law and society, as it existed in America in the mid-twentieth century. I’m not sure that’s going back far enough for ideas. You’re not supposed to say it out loud, and Yenor doesn’t, but it’s not at all clear to me that even first-wave feminism had any virtue at all. To the extent it is substantively discussed today, we are given a caricature, where the views of those opposed to Mary Wollstonecraft or John Stuart Mill are not told to us, rather distorted polemics of those authors about their opponents are presented as accurate depictions, which is unlikely, and even those depictions are never engaged with. But we know that most of what Mill said about politics in general was self-dealing lies that have proven to be enormously destructive, so the presumption should be that what he said about relations between men and women was equally risible.

…

Penultimately, Yenor addresses such new frontiers being sought by the rolling revolution, with the implication that the rolling revolution might, perhaps, be halted. Here he talks about the desire of the Left to have the state separate children from parents, particularly where and because the parents oppose the revolution, but more generally to break the parent-child bond as a threat to unlimited autonomy. He says, optimistically, “No respectable person has (yet) suggested that parents could be turned in for hate speech behind closed doors.” But this has already been proven false; Scotland is on the verge of passing a new blasphemy law, the “Hate Crime and Public Order Law,” and Scotland’s so-called Justice Minister (with the very Scots name of Humza Yousaf) has explicitly noted, and called for, entirely private conversations in the home that were “hate speech” to be prosecuted once the law is passed. A man like that is beyond secular redemption, yet he is also a mainline representative of the rolling revolution. The reality is that discussion does not, and will never work, with these people, only force. Still trying, Yenor presents a balanced picture to his hoped-for audience of princes, such as discussing when state interference in the family makes sense (as in cases of abuse). However, such situations have been adequately addressed in law for hundreds of years; the rolling revolution is not a new type of such balancing, but the Enemy. Discussions about it will not stop it. No general of the rolling revolution will even notice this book, except in that perhaps some myrmidons may be detached from the main host to punish Yenor, or to record his name for future punishment.

Yenor ends with a pithy set of responses to the tedious propagandistic aphorisms of the rolling revolution, such as “Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings.” And, laying out a clear vision of a renewed society based on the principals he has earlier discussed, he tells us, “In the long term, the goal is to stigmatize the assumptions of the rolling revolution.” No doubt this is true; cauterizing the societal wound where the rolling revolution will have been amputated from our society will be, in part, accomplished by stigmatizing both the ideas and those who clamored for them or led their implementation. How to get to that desirable “long term,” though, when their long term is very clear, and very different from the long term Yenor hopes for? He says “Prudent statesmen must mix our dominant regime with doses of reality.” Yeah, no. Prudent statesmen, the new princes, must entirely overthrow our dominant regime, or not only will not a single one of Yenor’s desired outcomes see the light of day, far worse evils will be imposed on us. Oh, I’m sure Yenor knows this; it’s the necessary conclusion of Yenor’s own discussion of those eagerly desired future evils. He just can’t be as aggressive as me. I’m here to tell you that you should read this book, but amp up the aggression a good eight times—which shouldn’t be a problem, especially if you have children of your own, whose innocence and future these people want to steal.

#charles haywood #the worthy house #book review #scott yenor

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seasinkarnadine · 4 years

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42 catradora

42. I'm going to save you from the terrible date you're having

B: “So tell me about yourself.” His words appear in bold white text across the phone screen set in front of him. There are a few errors, but the live transcribe app he’s downloaded manages a better job than many others she’s had to experience. (A: This isn’t a date.) She texts rapidly, because she is not giving him a modicum of hope in that department. She hits send and looks up at him expectantly. There’s a sort of deer in the headlights expression on his face for a few moments before his phone catches his attention. He reads over her message before turning back to her and smiling. B: “I know.” The words appear in a scroll, sometimes scrubbing back to self correct. “I want to get to know you better." (A: What do you want to know?) B: “Were you born deaf? Do you have any siblings? How long were you a police officer?” (A: No, I could hear until I was 13. That's why I can speak and still mostly be understood. I remember what the sounds are like. I still remember how I sound.) She reaches for her coffee mug and takes a sip. It's delightfully hot. That's about all she can say though; Barre put in too much milk and sugar. She wonders if Catra would make it the same way. B: “Do you miss it?” (A: Miss what? ) B: “Hearing.” She thinks of Catra throwing her head back and laughing. (A: Sometimes.) (A: What is your first name, anyway?) She's only a little embarrassed that she hasn't asked sooner. B: “Rock no. Rock Oh. R O C C O, Rocco. Rock O. Barre. R O C C O Barre.” A waitress stops by to ask if everything is to their liking (at least Adora assumes so; it's hard to read her lips in the dim light of the cafe), and then moves on. At least it's nice and warm inside. A sudden storm has washed over the city and the windows of the shop weep with rain. B: “So, do you have a boyfriend?” A: (No. I’m gay.) Hasn’t she told him this before? B: “Girlfriend, then?” She almost says yes, if only to get him to stop asking. Instead, she takes a sip of her sickeningly sweet coffee. (A: Were you born in the city?) She asks him, because she feels like she should at least put in some kind of effort. B: “No, just outside of it. Most of my family is still out there, though. Are you deaf? Because of the white fever?” (A: Yeah.) B: “How did your parents take that?” (A: I never knew my parents.) B: “That’s unusual or maybe not that unusual--I mean what do I know really. Were you in a foster home or something?” (A:I was adopted by this older woman named Razz. She took care of me.) B: “Did she already know ESL? Or did she learn when you lost your hearing?” (A: We learned together.) Adora bites the inside of her cheek. It’s been too long since she went to visit Razz’s grave. B: “That’s great, though, I mean, that you had someone to do that with--hey! Teach me how to sign my name?” “B-A-R-R-E.” She signs. B: “Wait, I missed it--again?” And because it seems like he is genuinely interested and not simply trying to be polite, she walks him through each of the letters. It takes him a few tries, and he’s painfully slow, but no more than any other person first learning their signs, and the way he grins with pride at the end makes it worth it. (A: You’ll be fluent in no time.) She texts. B: “It’s great to learn new languages. I mean I only know the one really but I have this one uncle who knows like 10. He is a doctor. He didn’t used to know as many but when the White Fever happened there were a lot of patients who didn’t speak the same language because I guess some of the hybrids have a language entirely of their own or something? So he decided to learn some. Did you know that they were the primary like uh what’s the word uh carriers for the first wave? If it weren't for them. We could have contained it so much faster more them died, right. A friend of mine told me it’s beat they're not clean.” The way it was taught to her in school, the hybrids were largely responsible for the initial spread of the Fever. Some scientists posited that it was because most hybrids don’t take showers or bathe in the same way that humans do, but there’s never been any real substantial evidence one way or another. Nevertheless, the rumor started that hybrids are inherently dirty, and it’s been a reputation they haven’t been able to shake. They are filthy. They’re flea-bitten. They carry diseases. But. Adora remembers watching the painstaking hours Catra spent brushing through her fur. She remembers Catra, back split open, trying to peel off the dirty sheets of her bed. She remembers her trying to wash the dishes with her knuckles cracked. (A: Not all hybrids are dirty.) Adora texts. It feels weak. B: “Uh I’m sure they’re not, not all of them, but still enough. And I mean they’re behind this gang war, too, right I mean they’re very violent. My uncle he. My other uncle I mean not the same one who was a doctor. This uncle was carjacked a few weeks ago by some hybrids can you believe that? I mean I don’t blame the cops I know you guys are doing the best you can, right, with the resources that you do have after all but it’s hard because there sure are a lot of them they kinda breed like rabbits don’t they? My dad’s friend told me that for every human baby born there are two hybrid babies born.” It’s at that moment that Catra walks through the door. She’s wearing a heavy jacket with the hood up and Adora does not think she has ever been more beautiful. Adora waves frantically, ignoring the way that Barre turns his head. “Fancy meeting you here.” Catra signs from across the room.Catra removes her coat and shakes rain water out of her shaggy mane. She’s wearing fishnets beneath her ripped jeans and her hands are adorned with fingerless gloves. Her yellow-blue gaze flickers to Barre and back. “In need of some rescuing, princess?” B: “Oh, uh hi uh are you a friend of Adora’s?” He’s turned in his chair and is holding out his hand in greeting. Somehow it still feels like he’s looking down his nose. Catra stands across from where Adora’s seated and for a moment there’s this open, unguarded expression of longing. Adora’s still trying to determine if she’s actually seeing it or if she’s projecting when Catra blinks and the shutters come down once more. Her face is a mask. She sits down on the arm of a plush red chair immediately adjacent to Barre. B: “Hey...is everything alright?” He asks, brows knitting together. “What are you doing with this joker?” Catra signs, expression completely impassive. “I owed him a favor.” She admits. “Is this a date?” Catra raises her eyebrows. Something like a smirk curls her lips. Oh no. “This is not a date.” She cannot have Catra thinking she’s on a date with someone. “Does HE know that?” She asks, eyes firmly on Adora even as she jabs a clawed thumb in Barre’s direction. B: “Adora is she bothering you?” (A: Barre, this is my friend—) but before she manages to hit send she sees new text has appeared in white on Barre’s phone. “I’m her girlfriend.” Catra sits on the arm of the chair, calm as can be, like she hasn’t just dropped this bomb in the middle of the cafe. B: “Oh.” Barre says. Then, “OH,” his eyes go wide. B: “I’m--I’m Rocco Barre, from work, with Adora, I mean I work with Adora, this is just coffee between friends--but I’m sure you know that, because you’re dating and you probably talk about all that sort of stuff,” he rambles. He at least has the decency to look embarrassed. He holds out his hand again, as well. B: “I am sure you are perfectly clean and very hygienic. I mean you came in out of the rain so you know, you had a shower already today!” “Has this guy lost his fucking mind?” A smile curls at the edge of Catra’s lips. There’s something less...sour, about it this time. “I wouldn’t say he’s crazy, but he’s definitely an idiot.” “I hate him.” “Okay he’s not THAT bad. Be nice.” “He called me dirty.” “Like I said. He’s an idiot. Hang on—” Adora starts to type up a message on her phone, because she knows what it’s like for people to make false assumptions about you. A: “Some hybrids use combs and brushes for their fur instead of taking showers, because they don’t sweat the same way that we do.” She looks up from the message she’s typing to see that Barre is trying to talk to Catra. Keyword, trying. She looks to be completely ignoring him, apart from the occasional reflexive ear twitch. He turns his attention when his phone (presumably) pings, notifying him of the message she sent. B: “Oh! I mean wait really is that really. Some of them clean themselves like. Wait. So they don’t sweat spike we do?” “Would it be easier if I translated?” Catra wonders out loud, signing as she speaks. “Your device is...a little inaccurate.” She reaches forward with a claw and taps at the screen of Barre’s phone. He frowns for a moment, then looks to Adora. B: “I mean I guess so what harm could do right Adora?” From the look on Catra’s face, quite a bit. But how can she say no? She shrugs. B: “Sorry you are the first deaf person hive really talk to to so this is very new to me” “You’re the first deaf person I’ve met so this is new to me.” Catra translates. Adora admits it’s much easier to look at her than squint at the text on Barre’s phone. “A lot about this whole experience is new to me, actually. The two of you make for an unusual couple.” Barre states and Catra signs. He keeps looking at her while he’s speaking. It’s awkward because Catra’s sitting immediately next to him so he’s constantly craning his neck. “How long have you known each other?” “We met yesterday. We’re getting married tomorrow.” Catra responds curtly and Adora kicks her shin. “I asked you to be nice!” “How can I be nice to someone who looks like what this guy looks like?” Which isn’t an answer at all really and yet somehow exactly what Adora expected. Barre speaks up again. “I am sure that the wedding will be very beautiful.” Catra translates.. Adora can’t tell if he is joking or not. “We’re not actually getting married.” “Ohhh.” His left leg bounces up and down and he considers this new information. Two seconds of this and Catra apparently loses interest, reaching over to Adora’s coffee. She cradles it in her palms for a moment before taking a sip. “This isn’t how you take your coffee.” She scowls. B: “What are you smiling at?” Barre asks, and Adora blinks a few times to shake away the feeling of warmth in her chest. (A: “Something silly Catra said.) “How do you know that’s not how I take my coffee?” She asks Catra, who is still holding her mug. “Well for starters, it’s consumable.” “Why did you drink it if you know you hate how I take my coffee?” Catra just shrugs, and Adora rolls her eyes. “Also are you going to translate or not?” “You are such a needy girlfriend.” Catra rolls her eyes. Adora tries her best to push back the feelings of warmth and affection that swell in her chest. “What were you two talking about?” Barre asks through Catra. “How she needs to get her hands off of my coffee.” Adora answers. B: “Those are the consequences of being in a relationship though haha you share your coffee!” Even though Catra is translating, Barre’s phone is still out. Which is good because what Catra says next has nothing to do with coffee. “He says that you should give me whatever I want and that also I’m going to take you home and push you against a stall and kiss the fuck out of you.” Heat immediately rushes to her face. “I--I’m—” she stutters out loud. C: “Oh would you look at the time! I just realized that there’s somewhere we need to be. Thanks so much for this--whatever your name is. Bye!” Catra’s words appear on Barre’s phone in time with the grin on her face. B: “Aw this too bad. Thanks for coming! We have to do this again sometime. Catch Ah can come too. Have a good—” day! At least that’s what she assumes he says. Catra grabs Adora’s shirt collar and tugs her away before she can finish reading. “Bye! Thanks!” She squeaks, helpless to do anything but follow Catra . She’s never been happier to step out into a rainstorm.

#she ra #spop #ask #technoskittles #ask game #42 #drabble #original #original content

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laws-yellow-submarine · 5 years

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Did you know. That I would like to hear. Everything I can about your OCs/Quasi-Self Inserts? Because Cringe Culture is dead and I love them.

First of all: THANK YOU for asking about them lol I saw the ask and I got so so excited cause I literally never stop thinking about them lol that being said, I apologize for the novel I just wrote about them lmfao I put it all under the cut (hopefully it works on mobile!), so hopefully I don’t bog down everyone’s feed.

So I don’t wanna reveal too much about Skylar (full name Valentine Skylar), cause I really do plan on actually writing the fic I planned for her (I’m just really good at procrastinating lmao), but like I said in an earlier post: she’s my bisexual disaster brain child running away from her homophobic parents and the threat of conversion therapy by impulsively deciding to sneak onto Law’s submarine when he visits her home island. I’m basing the conversion therapy stuff off of something similar in the Bloodlines series by Richelle Mead (one of my all time FAVORITES! If you like vampires, action, and romance I can’t recommend it enough! Though you should start with the first series, Vampire Academy as it introduces the world and the cast of characters and the events of that series lead directly into the Bloodlines series. I took some inspiration from Vampire Academy too for some other events in the fic as well).

Skylar is...a lot like me in personality lol she’s 5’5”, goofy, loves to laugh and sing and just generally have fun, and she’s very clumsy. She’s also got major anxiety, but it’s not something she actually has a diagnosis for (so she doesn’t know there’s a problem and can’t handle it when it flares up, she’s unprepared to deal with it). She does like to read, mostly fiction, and she likes to look at the stars, and gaze out the windows of the sub when they’re submerged. She’s very musically gifted. Part of her deal with Law for essentially free room and board is that she cooks (they don’t have a designated cook otherwise, and this way they never have to let Law back in the kitchen again), and while she’s cooking she’ll be singing so loud it carries through the pipes on the sub (almost like they have radio lmfao). She’s also impulsive; her decision to sneak onto Law’s sub was totally spur of the moment, she knew the risks, she knew exactly who’s ship she was sneaking onto (thanks to wanted posters), and that it was dangerous, but she still packed up as much of her stuff as she could, stole a TON of her parents’ money, and snuck on anyway. Law wonders a lot whether she’s just an idiot or possibly someone trying to spy on him (either for the Marines, or more sinisterly for Doflamingo. He knows the likelihood for either of these things is extremely slim, but he keeps her close so he can keep an eye on her. He can’t afford to make a mistake with that). It takes a LONG time for them to move past the “I don’t trust you” stage, and even then she’s much more invested than he is for a really long time, mostly because he’s an emotionally constipated BUTT who doesn’t like to acknowledge that he FEELS THINGS lmao

Most of her life she’s been fighting against someone else’s control; mostly her parents (she’s 21 at the start of the story but hasn’t been able to feel like a true adult until she leaves, they’ve had such a hold over her AND they’re powerful people where she lives so she HAS to leave the island completely to be free). She also experienced some of this with her girlfriend, Mimi, though not to nearly the same extreme. Mimi had big dreams of getting off their island and becoming a world famous musician, along with Skylar. Skylar just wants to travel the world, but Mimi’s loud personality manipulated her into adopting the dream of being a musician. It wasn’t malicious in any way, but usually when Mimi would say “We’re doing this” or “We don’t like that”, Skylar usually agreed. She wouldn’t speak out against it, in part due to finally feeling loved (ahh parent issues lol). About a year before the start of the story, Mimi joins the Marines as a way to start earning some money, as well as getting her foot out the door in a way (it gets her off the island, so all that’s needed is to earn enough to get settled somewhere, go back for Skylar, and then they can begin their life together). Unfortunately, her patrol ship was destroyed by a pirate crew a few months later, and she’s now MIA and presumed dead.

Being with Law and his crew is really the first time she’s been able to try deciding things for herself, and then follow through. He’s not gonna try to push her in any direction, that’s not his business, and so there comes an extra sense of freedom with them that she’s never had before.

Law also keeps her around because he finds out she has a roundabout connection to Doflamingo, and he thinks he can find a way to exploit that connection for information. Her parents have a very on-the-level business selling pharmaceuticals, which is what keeps them in good standing with the Marines when they come to the island (there’s no actual base set up, but there’s another close by). They ALSO have a black market business smuggling hallucinogens throughout the Grand Line, beginning to venture into the other seas as well, starting with North Blue. There’s a fruit that grows on the island called the Follia Fruit (literally Insanity in Italian) which causes strong hallucinations when eaten. They were able to get a good foot in the black market using Doflamingo’s connections, and they know HIM because they were actually formerly part of his crew (they left the crew before Law joined, so he doesn’t know them, and they left because Skylar’s grandmother was dying and leaving the entire fortune and family-run business to them, otherwise they would’ve stayed with Doffy. Skylar’s more of an object for them to use.) Skylar vaguely knows her parents have an underworld contact, she’s seen his Jolly Roger in her father’s office, near his wall safe, but she doesn’t know who he actually is. At most she’s heard mention of a “Joker” and that’s it, so Law can easily fish for information without giving up that he’s honestly using her too (he doesn’t have any reason to just be nice to her, especially since she snuck onboard before he ever met her, and that’s part of the journey; balancing his goal with the fact he’s developing feelings for the person he’s using to help achieve that goal). It’s a slooooooooow burn btw lol takes a long time for things to truly get going between them, but when it does it kinda picks up quick. It’s gonna be fun lol

Speaking of the Follia Fruit, that’s how Skylar got her devil fruit. I do NOT have a name for it yet, because I can’t find one I like that still overall fits? But essentially she can manipulate light particles (photons? Idk science stuff, whatever light is actually made of). She can use it to create a camouflage cover (it’s main use, she’s a sneaky person despite also being clumsy as hell lmfao), and that works like she’s placing a cloak over herself (like an invisibility cloak!), and she also eventually learns to create force fields of hardened light, like the light bridges in Portal 2 (it takes a lot of energy though, so it’s not nearly as easy, but it does come in handy). Whether these are all actually scientifically sound remains irrelevant, in my universe it works muahahaha (there is precedent for these powers at least, I just don’t know how it all actually works. Science is NOT my forte). She was actually trying to eat the Follia Fruit when she ate the devil fruit instead, as when consumed in a large enough dose it can be fatal (so yeah, WARNING there: her girlfriend is dead, she’s being tortured, she manages to escape at one point and decides she absolutely is NOT going back). Fortunately, she didn’t check what fruit she was eating before chowing down, and she not only lived but she gained super powers lol. She also at one point asks Law to help teach her how to fight and defend herself, which is super fun cause she’s NOT in shape lol but she does eventually learn at least basic hand to hand and how to use a blade (typically a knife or a dagger, she’s small).

Skylar also works very hard to develop her Observation Haki. I’ve always wondered if it was possible to manipulate your haki so you could be indetectable by other users, which would be extremely useful when your abilities include sneaking and camouflage. So Skylar learns how to do it, focusing more on the detection aspects of haki than any of the other uses (predicting movement). It hasn’t been shown in canon, obviously, but I think it’s feasible.

Clearly I’ve thought a lot about all this, now it’s just a matter of writing actual sentences lmao

My other main OC is Monkey D. Hazel. She’s Luffy’s big sister, older by about 4 years (so she’s older than Ace and Sabo by 1 year). She’s a good big sister lol she’s super protective, almost mothering despite not being that much older, and it drives the boys nuts (but they still love her anyway and appreciate her for it and all that. They can take care of themselves, but they know if they ever needed her to step in she would in a heartbeat). She’s not nearly as chaotic as Luffy, but she does follow him into a lot of shenanigans (usually with a shrug and a grin like “yup that’s Luffy”). She’s always wanted to help Luffy achieve his dream, and write down his adventures for future generations to read, so she stayed behind until he was ready to start on his own pirate journey.

She also totally had a thing with Ace (I know it can be kinda iffy, given their shared past and psuedo-sibling status, but I think they work well together, and given that they were 2 teens going through puberty at the same time in the same area, I think it’s extremely likely they could’ve developed feelings for each other that they didn’t necessarily fully understand at the time. I also don’t think she’d be one to participate in the sake drinking scene that the boys use to say “ok we’re brothers now”, and until she was an adult only saw Ace as a close friend that Luffy also saw as a big brother. Being that they were in the same age group, I think it’s less likely she’d see him and Sabo as brothers until they were much older. Sorry if that seems like I’m making excuses, I know not everyone is going to agree with that kind of “ship”, but I literally started shipping them on accident and now I can’t stop cause it makes sense to me that something would have happened between them, even something small). Any relationship they did have ended when Ace left to be a pirate, and with time spent apart and both growing older, Hazel’s views turn more sisterly, like “We grew up together, he’s practically my brother” (though Ace’s may or may not have stayed kind of the same. It makes for interesting conversation when they do meet again in Alabasta). When he dies, she’s absolutely devastated, and does start to wonder “what if?”, like what if she’d pursued a real relationship with him from the beginning, gone with him, could she have kept him safe, etc. It takes a very long time for her to come to terms with it, and to accept that she couldn’t have done anything to stop it, nor was it her place to try. She loses her best friend, and it does take some of the spark out of her, so she’s more reserved after the time skip.

She loses her right leg in a fight with CP9, essentially the bones gets crushed, and her new pal Franky helps whip up a cool robot leg for her in between work on the new ship. It’s got a few bells and whistles: a pistol in the kneecap, a roller blade in the bottom of the foot, and she can detach the metal plates in a way that makes her taller (if she stands on one leg lol). She thinks Franky is SUPER cool (I always hated that the girls in the series never think robots or ninjas or anything are cool, she’s not like that lmfao), and Luffy is jealous of her robot leg.

She sustained some pretty major burns to her right side at Marineford (either by Akainu when he murdered Ace; she stepped in front of Luffy, Ace stepped in front of her, the magma-arm didn’t touch her skin because it was stopped by her coat, but the heat was enough to still cause 3rd-degree burns to her arm, shoulder, and face because it’s fucking LAVA, and destroy half of her clothing; OR some other thing set on fire and burned her lol I dunno enough to say whether that’s feasible with magma but I like that version better, that it was caused in some way by Akainu). It was a question of if she’d ever be able to use her arm again, but Law’s a very good doctor (though she did threaten him when he wouldn’t let her see Luffy right away, saying with him being in critical condition they couldn’t risk an infection. She was not happy). She actually bonds slightly with Law after they escape and she’s in stable condition, cause she breaks down about what happened before he can escape (lol). In her mind she’s just lost another person she cared about (a brother-type figure, and someone she loves very much in her own way), and Luffy could very well be on his deathbed, and she can’t even see him, and the rest of their crew is who knows where, and she may lose use of her arm, and she HURTS, and it’s a lot to take in. Law keeps trying to tell her to calm down or she’ll undo everything he just did to save her, and she accuses him of being insensitive (I mean...yeah), and throws out a comment like “what you never lost anybody? Fuck off”. He glares at her, then sits and sighs, hiding his face beneath his hat. He’s silent for a while, then tells her he’s also lost a sibling. He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t give details, but it still hits like a slap to the face, and she realizes he’s offering an olive branch by telling her that, and that hey here’s someone who knows exactly how you feel right now, don’t push away the only person who understands. They don’t bring it up again, but she does start to calm down.

The Crew: When she met Zoro she kept scolding Luffy about bossing him around, that it’s not his place to tell someone they’re joining the crew (of course he doesn’t listen), but after Zoro joins they get along really really well (she also mildly flirts with him for fun, he blushes like crazy, but it’s pretty harmless overall. Those three together is pretty chaotic on its own lol).

She didn’t trust Nami at first, as she came out of nowhere after messing with a different pirate, so she’s wary that the girl has something up her sleeve regarding her brother, but after they defeat Arlong Hazel is extremely protective of her, and the two take care of each other (also again: mild flirting. That time spent with Ace as a teen really helped Hazel’s confidence as a flirt, but after the time skip a lot of that goes away).

Hazel and Usopp tell stories together, usually for the whole crew, and she sees him as another little brother sort of figure. Chopper is baby, she loves Chopper instantly and will beat down anyone that looks at him funny. She doesn’t flirt with Sanji, because she doesn’t like the way he falls over himself around her and doesn’t want to encourage more of it, but once he (finally) takes the hint the two have a very strong friendship. She was very wary of Robin, until Water 7/Enies Lobby, and now sees her as an older sister. Robin, for her part, and even Franky to some degree, wish that Hazel would stop trying to be the crew’s grown up, and would go have fun as a girl in her early 20’s. She does ease up once the two join the crew, but bonds with the adults a lot. She’s someone the younger crew members go to with problems, but Robin and Franky, and eventually Brook and Jinbei, are who Hazel goes to for advice.

After the 5th time of Brook asking to see her panties, she says fuck it and throws a clean pair at him, saying that’s all he gets and if he asks her one more time she WILL throw him overboard. He doesn’t bring it up again.

Jinbei actually shows her the basics of Fishman Karate on their way back to Marineford before the timeskip. She still can’t move too well, so she just watches, but she incorporates what she learns into her fighting style.

She wanted to stay with Luffy when he went to train with Rayliegh, but the old man put a stop to it right away saying she’d not only be too distracted to focus on her own training, but she’d likely coddle Luffy. It was better for them to spend some time apart anyway, for really the first time in their lives, and though she’s nervous about not being with him she agrees. Hancock ends up taking her under her wing for the time being, but only because she’s Luffy’s sister (and therefore not a threat lmfao).

As far as after the time skip, she’s mostly the same but doesn’t immediately jump into Luffy’s shenanigans, and can be more of a voice of reason when needed. At Punk Hazard, she’s the first one of the Straw Hats (besides Luffy) to trust Law and agree that they should form an alliance. She furiously hates Caesar, like she isn’t even able to be near him or his heart cause she might stab him and ruin the whole plan (you don’t mess with kids man Hazel WILL fuck you up). At Dressrosa she joins in the fight to help the Tontattas, and follows Usopp and Robin to the port under the coliseum. When she sees Sabo, she IMMEDIATELY bursts into tears and latches onto his shoulders so tight it would take a crowbar to separate them (not that he tries, he’s happy to see her too). She also scolds Robin later for not telling her, but the older woman just laughs and says “but isn’t this so much better?” It is, but Hazel won’t admit it yet lol

She doesn’t go with Luffy to Whole Cake Island, but she does end up meeting up with him and Zoro in Wano, and helps rescue O-Tama.

Potential love interests for Hazel (besides Ace) would be Zoro, Nami, or Law, but honestly she could be shipped with anyone which makes it super fun lol (if anyone read this whole thing and has ideas send them in I’d love to hear them!!)

Anyway thank you for reading this entire long ass essay about my brain children! I think about them a lot, as I’m sure you can tell lol

#valentine skylar #monkey d. hazel #one piece oc #one piece original character #trafalgar law #portgas d. ace #roronoa zoro #cat burglar nami #law x oc stuff #fan fiction #zoro x oc #nami x oc #ace x oc #long post #doesn't look like the read more is working on mobile I'm so sorry #thanks for the ask!

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commentaryvorg · 5 years

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Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 1.7

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time, as the first trial began, the narrative continued to ignore the actual reason for Tsumugi’s apparent innocence, everyone generally played catch with the idiot ball to pad things out including several people who deserve better, and I started discussing Kaito’s really-not-that-gendered concept of manliness. Then suspicion fell upon Shuichi, who promptly clammed up in fear of revealing the truth to defend himself, just before we went to the intermission.

Monokuma: “Try your best to nab the culprit. And believe me, that’s no lie. If I lied, it would shake the game to its very foundation.”

Yeah, you’re definitely not going to do that at the end of this trial, right?

But also, that’s precisely the point: Kokichi’s plan in chapter 5 and Shuichi’s reason for retrying this case in chapter 6 both revolve around the idea that proving Monokuma to have lied would render the entire killing game invalid and force it to end.

Maki is still being the one to drive the conversation in terms of accusing Shuichi. She’s just being pragmatic and has no time for any of this “believing in people” stuff; why would she?

Kokichi: “Did it ever occur to you that Shuichi could have lied about setting the sensor? Hmmm?”

Kaede: “A… A lie…?”

Shuichi: “…”

And yet at the exact time Shuichi was genuinely setting the sensor and not lying about it, Kaede was setting up the camera and turning the flash on and lying about that. That’s probably what Shuichi’s freaking out about right now.

Kokichi’s claim that Shuichi never set up the sensor is so he can argue that Shuichi then used the sensor to set off the receiver in front of Kaede on purpose. But Kokichi doesn’t know the receiver had a power supply, so how does he think Shuichi managed to carry the sensor and the receiver around with him all day and not set it off accidentally just by moving around normally?

Kaede: (I have to do something! I know for a fact that he’s not the culprit!)

Not an exaggeration!

I enjoy the way the podiums can sometimes move about during these trials, and this debate is one of the biggest reasons for it. Just the way it forces Shuichi into the middle of the circle so that everyone is staring right at him – particularly since Shuichi has such a fear about people looking at him with accusation and hatred in their eyes. This must be especially awful for him right now.

(I particularly like this one shot. Shuichi’s frozen up in the foreground, the background focuses on Ryoma, who’s speaking – but in the background there’s also Kaito, silently freaking out over the possibility that Shuichi did it. Kirumi, who’s much less relevant to anything right now, happens to be completely obscured by Shuichi thanks to the angle used.)

Shuichi: “………………”

“Say something.”

That bit of white noise there is probably Maki again, being blunt and pragmatic as usual. (It’s fun guessing who the lines of white noise could be from; I’ll be pointing out some of the more relevant ones.)

Kokichi: “Yeaaah, I mean, whatevs. I made a mistake! Big deal!”

Kiyo: “You speak as if you knew that from the start… Even I was taken in…”

I can’t decide whether I agree with Kiyo that Kokichi actually knew about the contradiction in his argument from the beginning or not. Making the argument despite knowing it’s wrong is the kind of dick thing he’d do, but also I’m pretty sure that at this point he does think Shuichi did it? There is absolutely no indication that he was aware Kaede was the real culprit until that comes out.

And now Ryoma makes the argument about Shuichi turning the receiver off because he happened to learn that bit of information during the investigation.

This argument they put together here (that Shuichi did set up the sensor, turned the receiver off, murdered Rantaro when he went to the basement and then retrieved the sensor so that he could set off the receiver in front of Kaede to fake the time of death and give himself an alibi) is almost a completely flawless argument. It’s pretty clever how the case manages to do this – create a way in which Shuichi could have plausibly done it so that the only way to defend him is not to prove he didn’t but to force him to prove that Kaede did. And then everyone, even Kaede herself, ends up firmly believing that she did it because the evidence pointing to that is seemingly flawless, even though that’s also not the truth and the real culprit is yet another person that nobody will be aware of until they find new information at the very end of the game.

…I say “almost” completely flawless because there is actually an argument to clear Shuichi’s name without Kaede lying or confessing, namely that they saw the bookcase door closing when they ran into the library, proving that Rantaro had in fact been alive when the receiver went off. Nobody points that out in this trial, but even so, it’s almost a shame that that piece of evidence exists to make this current argument about Shuichi’s potential guilt not truly airtight. The writers presumably only put that bit in as a hint for chapter 6 that Tsumugi had just left, but even then that won’t be necessary to prove that she did it.

Kokichi: “Nee-heehee… So the Ultimate Detective is the killer. What a plot twist!”

You’re not the only person who wanted that plot twist to happen, either, Kokichi. Good thing the other person who wanted it doesn’t exist anymore and got overwritten by an Ultimate Detective who wouldn’t ever kill anyone.

(Also, man, 53 seasons and none of the writers thought to try and do this plot twist, even though they apparently have a lot of Ultimate Detective characters?)

Kaito: “Hey, you gonna say anything? We’ll all vote for you if you don’t.”

Kaito’s been interestingly quiet this whole time Shuichi’s been accused. This is the first thing he’s said since the intermission, and it’s not even specifically defending him. I might have expected Kaito’s belief in Shuichi to be strong enough that he’d have tried to defend him, but seemingly not. He’s probably been focused on trying to figure out why Shuichi would clam up when he’s being accused if he really isn’t the culprit – Kaito is always about trying to understand people.

Kaede: (Why won’t Shuichi say anything? Is there… a reason he won’t say anything? … If that’s the case… then it’s all up to me.)

Kaede has probably figured out here that it’s her fault he won’t say anything, because he’s realised she did it and is terrified of admitting it.

Monokuma is having himself a little puhuhuhuhu in amongst the white noise of the debate where you have to lie. He’s probably excited to find out if Kaede will throw Shuichi under the bus for her own survival or not.

You know, Kaede, your lie would probably be more convincing if you didn’t dramatically yell, “I’ll turn this lie… into the truth!” before starting to tell it.

(Yeah, yeah, obviously she doesn’t actually say that out loud since no-one comments on it, but it still comes across as pretty unintentionally silly.)

Kaede: “S-Sorry, you guys! I forgot to tell you something important!”

She’s also a really unconvincing liar. Shuichi will be much better at it than her when it’s his turn to lie. Plus, her lie is extra bad because it comes with the huge looming question of why the hell didn’t she mention this ten minutes ago when the receiver was first brought up as proof Shuichi did it.

Aaaa but Shuichi’s look of shock when he sees her lying for him, though. He’s probably been terrified this whole time that she’s secretly a horrible person who’s only pretending to defend him and will eventually sacrifice him to get away with her crime, but the fact that she’s willing to go this far to defend him and put herself at this much risk…!

Kaede: “C’mon, would I lie to you guys?”

Kaito: “That’d only screw yourself over. If we mess up, you’re dead too, y’know?��

And yet Kaede knows that this lie is all the more likely to get herself killed and that’s exactly why she’s telling it.

Kiyo: “Or perhaps… you wanted to cover for Shuichi, even at the cost of your own life.”

Shuichi: “…Huh?”

That’s the first sound Shuichi’s made since he was accused. It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but the possibility is occurring to him that Kaede is still the person he believed in!

Keebo: “I cannot imagine why anyone would risk their life to lie on another’s behalf.”

Kokichi: “Words from a true heartless robot! Emotions are only for meatbags!”

And yet you have an even harder time comprehending the idea of risking your life for someone else’s sake than anyone else in this room, Kokichi.

Tsumugi: “Umm… I agree. I sort of can’t believe that Shuichi is the culprit.”

Yeah, of course you don’t, because you want everyone to eventually figure out that Kaede did it. Note how she doesn’t even present a specific reason for thinking this; it’s not like she’s been acting as if she believes in Shuichi especially strongly or anything.

Kaito: “Yeah, this ain’t right!”

And of course Kaito believes in Shuichi! Even though he wasn’t speaking up to defend Shuichi earlier, he also wasn’t one of the people contributing to the argument against him.

Kaede: (We can’t vote for Shuichi, because he’s definitely not the culprit. If we vote for him, all hope is lost… I won’t be able to save everyone…)

Again with her utter certainity. But she shouldn’t be so worried – she must know that even if she can’t convince everyone of Shuichi’s innocence with just her lie, all she needs to do is confess, if it comes to it. She should be absolutely certain that no matter how things go, this trial will never end up with everyone else getting executed, because she won’t let that happen. I guess by “save everyone” she means she’s still hoping to catch the mastermind at this point, and this whole accusing Shuichi thing is just an inconvenient detour she’s trying to drag everyone off of.

The way Monokuma twists the key into the keyhole when starting up a Debate Scrum is extremely reminiscent of Gurren Lagann. Given a certain someone in this game who is also extremely reminiscent of a certain character from that anime, I feel like this is probably deliberate.

I like that Gonta makes one of the arguments in the Debate Scrum. He wouldn’t necessarily need to, since there’s only five arguments for eight people on his side, but he’s contributing! He’s not as stupid as he thinks!

I’m playing on the Vita version, and one of the few notable downgrades is that it doesn’t have the voice clips of everybody yelling “This is our answer!” together at the end of a Debate Scrum. Which is a shame; I always thought that was a cool bit, hearing multiple characters work together to convince everyone else of the truth. Debate Scrums are a really cool idea in general to get more of the characters involved.

Kaede: “And if that happens… Everyone will be executed… I definitely won’t let that happen, even if it costs me my life!”

Man, that statement of Kaede’s is telling. Why would it cost her her own life to prevent everyone being executed, unless…? It can be passed off as misguided protagonist determination and her temporarily forgetting how things work because she’s so worked up, but it’s more than that.

Shuichi: “Kaede…”

Look at Shuichi finally saying something for the first time since he was accused, and it’s when he hears that Kaede is willing to die for her crime. She is not the horrible backstabber he was afraid she might be; she is still exactly the brave, selfless person he believed in. It’s this that makes him finally able to face the truth.

Kaito: “Yeah, it’s just like Kaede said! Shuichi ain’t the culprit!”

Gonta: “Gonta believe in Shuichi, too! Gentlemen always believe in friends!”

Kaito and Gonta are both so good and so full of belief in people.

Even though Shuichi is speaking again and is laying out his arguments that lead to the truth, he’s still doing it in a pretty roundabout way, like he’s trying to put off the moment where he has to accuse Kaede for as long as he can.

Kaede: (I see… Shuichi knows… The reason why Rantaro noticed the camera was…)

I love just how strongly this hints that Kaede knows everything that happened even better than Shuichi.

Kaede: (I know this… There’s only one reason the camera’s flash was used…)

And again. She very clearly already knows and is not just figuring things out as Shuichi explains.

Kaede: “But the culprit didn’t expect the camera to take another picture when the door closed.”

And Kaede can be sure of this statement because she is the culprit. (Although, they’re all only assuming the second picture was when the door closed – I believe it is actually supposed to be when Tsumugi opened it again from the other side.)

Kaito: “Hey, Kaede…?”

Kaede: “What is it?”

Kaito: “Is… something wrong? You’ve been acting… kinda strange.”

Kaede: “…Strange?”

Kiyo: “Your last few remarks carry… more conviction than before.”

Look at how Kaito is the first one to notice this! He doesn’t for a moment want to believe that she actually did it, which is why he remains vague about what’s up with her and Kiyo has to be more specific – but still, he noticed, and he brought it up because he wanted to better understand why. Kaito is so perceptive when it comes to people and always trying to understand them better when there’s things that don’t make sense to him.

The fact that Shuichi and not Kaede is designated as number 1 in the screen where you have to accuse people would potentially be extremely spoilery if it weren’t for the fact that this is the first time we see this screen, when you’re about to find out that Shuichi is the true protagonist anyway.

It’s very appropriate how Kaede’s voice clip for accusing someone correctly, given that this is the only time she ever does it, is “No doubt about it”.

Kaede: (I’m sorry… Shuichi. You stayed silent this whole time because you realized it already, right? But, you can’t do that. It may be the end of me, but I want my wish to… I’m giving it to you, Shuichi. From now on, you’re going to carry on my wish! You’re going to protect everyone!)

Shuichi: (Kaede… I know what you want me to do. That’s so cruel… It’s cruel, but… I understand. I’ll do it. You can trust me. I won’t let your wish… go ungranted.)

This sequence where they switch protagonists is adorable and gives me feelings every time. I don’t think it’s supposed to be that they’re actually talking to each other or reading each other’s thoughts – they just both understand each other enough that they’re accurately imagining how the other is feeling right now and responding to that in their own inner monologue.

Also, despite the game making you do so as her, Kaede didn’t actually accuse herself. All that was ever said out loud was:

Kaede: “The culprit of this incident is…”

…

Shuichi: “…Kaede is the culprit.”

Kaede must have been trusting that Shuichi was finally about to find the courage to face the truth and was waiting for him to say it so that she didn’t have to. By acting like she was about to admit it herself, she made it clear to him that she is completely okay with being found guilty, giving him the final push he needed to do it.

Gonta: “Kaede… did it?”

Tenko: “W-Wait, that’s not possible! Right, Kaede!?”

I like that these two are the first ones to speak up to question this. They believe in her!

Kaede: “Pft… ahahahaha! Just kidding!”

Ryoma: “Just kidding?”

Kaede: “Huh? Did you guys really think I’m the culprit? Psh, come on, guys! Like I could!”

And now Kaede has started deliberately playing the villain. She’s given up on her attempts to corner the mastermind, given up on her own life – but she still hasn’t stopped trying to help everyone. She’s doing this, playing the horrible traitor who would hide their crime and try to get away with it, in the hope that it will unite everyone against her, so that despite how awfully things went, they’ll still have a sense of unity and co-operation once this is all over. And of course, she’s doing it to get Shuichi to face his fear of revealing the truth, because she knows that he’s going to need to do that in order to keep saving everyone throughout the rest of this killing game.

Kaede is willingly turning herself into a monster because she’s selflessly fixated on saving everyone else and doesn’t care at all what they think of her so long as they’re all going to be okay. She is so, so good.

Kaede: “Shuichi’s just joking around. He wanted to lighten up the mood.”

Yes, because that’s totally an in-character thing that Shuichi would do.

Kaito: “Yeah, how? You and Kaede were together the whole time, weren’t you?”

I also find it interesting that, again, this is the first time Kaito has spoken up since Shuichi accused Kaede. He did not join in earlier when Gonta and Tenko were questioning if she really did this. Kaito was the one who first noticed she was acting strange, after all, so it seems there’s a part of him that didn’t have as much trouble believing it, based on the way she’s acting. Here he’s speaking up not to question the fact that she would do it, but simply how she physically could have done it, because that at least is still very unclear.

Kaede: “…I was in the classroom, standing watch with Shuichi.”

“Y-You see!?”

Gonta: “Kaede never saw Rantaro… then how she kill him!?”

“There’s no way!”

These two bits of white noise are absolutely 100% Kaito. Even if Kaede being the culprit makes more sense to him based on her behaviour than he would like to admit, he still doesn’t want to face up to that. So he’s vehemently latching onto the part where it doesn’t seem to be physically possible to avoid having to think about the fact that her behaviour tells a different story. The fact that he’s stuttering in the first statement and the text is shaking in the second one certainly implies that he is not as sure of himself as he is trying to sound.

Tsumugi: “Hmm… what a mystery.”

Yeah, such a mystery that you definitely don’t know the answer to. And you definitely didn’t write Kaede with a fondness for Rube Goldberg machines precisely so she’d be able to create a mystery like this.

Shuichi: (If I’m remembering correctly, there was something off about her then… Damn it, how could I not realize it…?)

Because she’s your friend and you trusted her and had absolutely no reason to assume she might have been secretly plotting a murder. Don’t beat yourself up about this, Shuichi.

Ryoma: “It’s not like it started rollin’ on its own…”

“Rollin’ on its own!?”

Ryoma: “…and fell off the bookcase onto Rantaro’s head.”

“The hell are you talkin’ about!?”

These white noise lines: also Kaito. Ironic that the part he’s furiously questioning here is the part that turns out to be close to the truth.

Typical of Miu to have made this aerial diagram of the library and not even remotely have it occur to her that maybe there’s something weird about the sloped path of books leading to just above Rantaro’s head.

It’s a little weird for Shuichi to be having flashbacks and the flashbacks still be from Kaede’s perspective. Would have been kind of neat to instead get a different flashback to what Shuichi was thinking at the time. Still, I can see that the reason they did it this way is to let the player look back at those lines from Kaede’s inner monologue that hinted at what was really going on and see them for what they really meant.

Kaede: “Impressive… You have a really good memory, Shuichi.”

Shuichi is condemning her to death and all she cares about doing is praising his talent and making sure he feels confident in himself. She is so goddamn selfless.

Tsumugi: “A setup that complicated is almost like a Rube Goldberg machine.”

…are you mentioning this because you heard the part where Kaede talked about Rube Goldberg machines and want to make sure everyone in the audience makes the connection, Tsumugi?

Kiyo: “Your words and that smile… Is this your admission of guilt?”

Kaito: “Hold on! Don’t just jump to conclusions! I’ve… still got a lot of questions!”

Even though Kaede looks to be just about willing to admit things, Kaito is not ready to accept this so easily.

Kokichi: “Nee-heehee… that’s weeeeeird. Why do you sound so desperate?”

Kaito: “There’s nothing weird about it! There’s just no way I can believe someone like Kaede would be the culprit!”

Kokichi notes that Kaito sounds desperate because he is – there’s obviously a part of him that can tell, from the facts lining up and from Kaede’s behaviour right now, that this is the truth. But even so, his belief in the person Kaede is as someone who would never do something like this still hasn’t been contradicted. She’s acting as though she did it, but she’s not acting as though she wasn’t really that person who always cared about saving everyone. This whole time she’s clearly been trying to help Shuichi through his issues and guide him towards the truth. So it just does not make sense to Kaito, since it hasn’t occurred to him that she could have done this in an attempt to save them all.

Gonta: “Yeah! Gonta not believe it either!”

Kaede: “What?”

And look at Kaede being so bewildered by them still believing in and defending her. She’s just a murderer, right? She betrayed them all! They should all hate her!

Kaito: “Don’t worry, Kaede! I’ll clear your name!”

Kaito knows she did it and that it’s not going to be possible to clear her name. He just doesn’t want to accept it.

Kaito: “I refuse to believe that Kaede is the culprit! I still have my doubts!”

Himiko: “What kinda doubts?”

Kaito: “Doubts about the noise, of course!”

His doubts aren’t really about the noise. They’re about the fact that someone like Kaede would ever do this. But he knows that’s not an acceptable argument in a class trial, so instead he’s latching onto whatever evidence-related thing he can think of. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he hadn’t actually forgotten that the BGM could have masked the noise and is just avoiding mentioning it in the hope that no-one else will and he’ll have an excuse not to face the truth.

Ryoma: “Eh, some noise ain’t a big deal.”

“Is true!”

Tenko: “Of course it’s a big deal!”

“Yes! I’m positive!”

Hee, look at Gonta and Kaito’s white noise here fervently insisting that Kaede must be innocent. (Kaito is not positive. He’s just desperately pretending that he is.) Also props to Tenko for being the other most adamant defender of Kaede. It’s a little awkward in her case considering that if Kaede were exactly the same person but happened to be a guy then Tenko wouldn’t be doing this, but at least because Kaede is a girl we get to see Tenko’s good side come through here.

This whole argument about the BGM is also kind of flimsy considering that Kaede didn’t know there was going to be loud music masking the sound of the shot and went ahead with her plan anyway. She was presumably hoping her target wouldn’t realise what the noise meant until it was too late. And hey, maybe Rantaro did actually barely hear the sound over the music and that’s why Kaede’s shot missed.

Kokichi: “Kaito, are you done now?”

Yeah, all this ridiculous nonsense of Kaito’s about believing in people, none of that makes any sense, right? Not in Kokichi’s worldview.

Kaito: “D-Damn it…! So… it’s true, then…? You’re saying… Kaede really is the culprit!?”

This, though, is Kaito more or less admitting defeat, now that he has no more arguments he can think of. He still doesn’t want to believe that Kaede is the culprit… but he can accept it.

Kirumi: “But we should not blame him for that. None of those actions warranted suspicion at the time, so he might not have noticed.”

Shuichi: “…”

Shuichiiii, listen to Kirumi. Don’t go blaming yourself for this.

Gonta: “That can’t be… It’s gotta be mistake, right?”

Gonta, like Kaito, still doesn’t want to believe that Kaede could have done something like this.

Kokichi: “But if all of that is true, then that’s pretty unfortunate… I mean… it’s Kaede, y’know? She kept preaching about working together, and then she goes and kills in cold blood!”

This is Kokichi very transparently trying to force it into people’s heads that obviously you shouldn’t trust anyone ever because even someone like Kaede who talks about working together and being friends would totally turn around and murder someone in cold blood for their own selfish gain.

Shuichi: “No, something still doesn’t fit.”

Kokichi: “Hm? What doesn’t fit?”

Shuichi: “Kaede… wouldn’t do something like that.”

And this is Shuichi giving the big middle finger to Kokichi’s twisted worldview. Because anyone who doesn’t have the world’s biggest unexplained trust issues should be able to tell that obviously precisely because Kaede is the person she is, she would definitely have a better reason for killing someone than just doing it in cold blood.

Tsumugi: “But you were the one that said she did it, right?”

Shuichi: “Yes, I did say that. But murder in cold blood is just not in her character… I truly believe that! I believe in her!”

This is not the only time that Shuichi is going to be certain that his closest friend committed murder and yet even more certain that they didn’t do it for selfish reasons!

Kaede: “But… why? Why do you still believe in me, Shuichi? Why? Tell me why!”

Because you’re still a good person, Kaede! Even if you yourself can’t believe that right now because you messed up and accidentally killed an innocent.

Kaede: “Are you still looking away from the truth!?”

Not any more. Now you’re the one who’s doing that, Kaede.

Kaede: “I’m a terrible murderer. I betrayed everyone!”

A couple of lines from the Argument Armament that it’s easy to miss out on if you do too well at it, which is a big shame because they are excellent lines.

Shuichi: “Kaede wasn’t targeting Rantaro. She was targeting the mastermind. She was trying to end this killing game… She was trying to save us all. Isn’t that right, Kaede?”

Kaede: “…”

This time, Kaede’s response is not the “good job for figuring it out, Shuichi!” that she was doing before. She didn’t care if Shuichi figured this out. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of her, after she’d failed them and done such a horrible thing.

Kaito: “So… she tried to end the killing game… by killing the mastermind?”

And now I think Kaito can finally properly accept it, because he has a reason that makes sense. Even if he’s still upset and frustrated that she was desperate enough to take such drastic measures, he understands.

Shuichi: “…But it’s all my fault. Kaede trusted my detective skills. I told her the mastermind might be there… And that’s why she set that trap. It’s all my fault. She trusted my detective work, and I screwed it up!”

Kaede: “Stop… That’s not true… Please, don’t say it’s your fault… It’ll be harder for me… None of this is your fault! It’s mine! Everything’s my fault!”

Kaede does not want to die worried that Shuichi is going to keep blaming himself and suffering because of her mistake. Her only priority now is making sure that everyone else, especially Shuichi, is going to be okay once she’s gone.

Kaede: “I want you to reveal everything that happened and convince everyone… And then… I want you to end this. That’s… my final wish.”

It’s… honestly a little awkward that Kaede calls this request for Shuichi to do a Closing Argument her “final wish”. No, it’s not – her final wish is going to be for everyone to end this killing game and get out of here! There isn’t even really a need to convince everyone at this point – even Kaito has been convinced by now. But of course it’s Danganronpa so we have to do a Closing Argument. I guess Kaede’s really just trying to give Shuichi more chance to practice his detective skills, you could argue?

“I want to help… I want to help you grant Kaede’s wish!”

…I haven’t been mentioning any of the tutorial text for obvious reasons, but this line is cute.

It’s amusing how the Completely Ambiguous Culprit Figure has a very distinctive backpack, making it not ambiguous at all. It does make sense to do that, since the backpack is relevant in a couple of panels.

Shuichi: “We deduced that the mastermind would return there to let Monokuma out.”

No, Shuichi, you deduced that all by yourself. Have some more pride in your deductions! (Not that he would want to in this case because this is the reason Kaede committed murder.)

Shuichi: “The shot kept rolling, then fell on Rantaro’s head, killing him instantly.”

Nope! For once, this is a Closing Argument being straight-up incorrect.

I appreciate this panel of Ambiguous Culprit Kaede being horrified by her guilt even as she’s thinking she killed the mastermind. We’ll even get to see this again in chapter 6 with it actually having Kaede’s face.

Kirumi: “We can at least try to trust the Kaede we’ve come to know up to this point.”

Tenko: “The Kaede we’ve come to know…?”

Kirumi: “Even if she did commit a crime, what Kaede has said to us is not a lie. She wanted to protect us, and I firmly believe that to be the truth.”

Exactly! Too bad Kokichi’s never going to change his tune despite any of this. Also, this is Kirumi showing a surprising amount of personal feelings for her standards. Perhaps because the focus is on how Kaede has been selflessly trying to protect everyone else, which is something Kirumi can definitely understand.

Ryoma: “If that was a lie too, it’d be the last straw for me. I’d have nothing left to believe in.”

Aww, Ryoma! He did want to believe in Kaede despite his grim outlook on things. Seems like she made him want to find a reason to live just a little bit.

Kaede: “You guys are so nice… Even though I betrayed you all…”

Because you have been so nice to them the whole time and you didn’t betray them!

Shuichi: “No! That’s not true, Kaede! You were trying to save all of—”

Kaede: “Nice job, Shuichi! I didn’t expect any less!”

Shuichi: “…What?”

Kaede: “You were super reliable back there! But you still have a long way to go. You need to be more assertive. If you did that more often, you’d be a pretty cool guy.”

Aaaaa Kaede encouraging and giving advice to Shuichi even when she’s about to die! And it’s definitely not a coincidence that she did this as a way to cut off Shuichi’s attempt to make things about how she’s feeling – her own feelings don’t matter next to everyone else’s, especially now she betrayed them and is about to die. She doesn’t want this to be about her at all.

(This attitude of hers is incredibly similar to a certain someone else I could mention who’s going to be encouraging Shuichi a lot from now on.)

Shuichi: “Kaede… why? Why are you smiling like that…? Why are you still trying to get me to be brave? Why, Kaede? Why are you thinking about everyone except yourself!? If you had just been less selfless, you wouldn’t have had to murder… Why…? Why do you do that?”

Unfortunately, Shuichi, you are going to have to get used to having friends who are this heartbreakingly selfless. This won’t be the last time.

Kaede: “…I’m… sorry…”

And of course, the only response Kaede has is to apologise for the fact that her selflessness ended up hurting Shuichi like this.

Monokuma: “The heart-racing excitement as the blackened and the spotless finally face off!”

…Like hell they’re facing off right now, Monokuma. You wish.

The roulette thing which announces the blackened slows down so much that for a moment it almost looks like it’s stopped on Gonta, who’s just before Kaede. Which probably gives first-time players a feeling of “man it sure would be awful if it really was Gonta; good thing that’s clearly never going to happen”. This same thing also happens in trial 2 with Kaito, who’s right next to Kirumi. I have to wonder if that’s deliberate.

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quicksilversquared · 5 years

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There’s No Camembert in Tibet: Chapter 11

A sequel to Plagg and the Butterfly Costume

With Hawkmoth defeated and school out for the summer, it’s time for Ladybug and Chat Noir plus their newly-assembled team of superheroes to head to Tibet to try to rescue Mrs. Agreste. Hiking, magic, and adventures await them, and hopefully at the end, they’ll be returning to Paris with Mrs. Agreste in tow.

as like normal recently, links will be in the reblog.

Their day of rest and regrouping and restocking was...well, not very relaxing, at least for the humans. They had to go through their bags and unpack everything, pulling out things to wash from their own backpacks and removing the empty cans and rice bags and other trash. The old Rat- named Dorjee, they had learned- had said that they could offload their trash and they would take care of it, which meant that they wouldn't have to keep digging through empty bags and cans to try to find what food they had left. While the teens did that, Master Fu had headed out with Sabine and Tsomo to buy some fruits and vegetables from the Rats' neighbors to replenish the fresh food in their supply.

"It'll be nice to have some fresh food in our meals again," Marinette said as she sorted out the pile of trash, separating the cans from the empty plastic bags. "And it'll be nice not to worry about how much we'll have left. I know we got a lot at the start of the trip, but still..."

"We've been eating a lot," Adrien agreed, finishing her sentence. "With all of the hiking, especially. It'll be nice to be restocked, even if we are losing a day of travel."

"I'm sure that having Tsomo's help will take off more days than the side trip here has added," Alya pointed out reasonably from where she was hand-washing her laundry in a basin filled with soapy water. It hadn't taken long for them to figure out that the house had no electricity, so while they had a stove to heat up their water and a pump to get as much water as they would need, doing laundry wouldn't be as simple as tossing their things and some soap into a machine and pressing start. It was one of the reasons why they would be busy all day, since everything had to be done by hand. "And Wayzz clearly needed the break."

They all looked towards the counter, where Wayzz was still sleeping. He had passed out the evening before after munching on veggies for several hours and had yet to wake up. Master Fu didn't seem overly concerned about it, so presumably his kwami would wake up soon.

"We're probably not going to be able to transform into Ladybug and Chat Noir for a bit after we get back," Adrien said, glancing over at Marinette. "Our kwamis will be too tired. But I suppose that's for the better, so no one looks at when the superheroes were gone and when we were gone and put things together."

"Except they won't have been working nearly as hard as Wayzz has, since the trip back is supposed to be shorter, and they'll have the entire plane ride back to relax. But we could wait on going out as Ladybug and Chat Noir again," Marinette allowed. "You're probably going to have a harder time sneaking out with your mom back, after all."

Adrien's expression closed off slightly as he nodded, and Marinette realized her mistake. They had all been trying so hard not to assume that the spell would work, just so they wouldn't be getting Adrien's hopes up in case something went wrong. It was just getting increasingly hard to remember to do that as they drew closer to the temples, because she was feeling increasingly optimistic about their chances of getting there and succeeding.

But they weren't there yet, and the spell hadn't been done to free Mrs. Agreste. It would be- no, it was- irresponsible to actually voice her optimism out loud and get Adrien's hopes up now, even if they now had a guide to direct them straight to the temple. Even if Duusu, as the kwami with some predictive sense, was getting a good feeling about the outcome of the trip.

Even if everything did seem to be going right for them, momentary scare from the Rat aside.

With the trash sorted and put in the bins that Dorjee had indicated, Adrien and Marinette repacked the large bag of food and supplies and then moved on to laundry. Chloe was just visible through the doorway, looking rather displeased as she hung her own just-washed clothes up.

Marinette stifled a giggle at the memory of when Chloe had been told that there was no washing machine in the house and everything would have to be hand-washed. They were each doing their own clothes too, so Chloe had had to get her hands wet and had been less than pleased about that. Even though it wasn't pleasant to hear her whining, it did at least assure all of them that Chloe hadn't been taken over by body-snatcher aliens or anything. Marinette had been starting to wonder, especially when Chloe had accepted her mom's offer for a haircut and then hadn't complained about the result at all.

The rest of the morning flew by as they washed their clothes and hung everything up to dry in the courtyard, then took turns taking showers while the rest of the group made lunch. By the time Tsomo, Master Fu, and Sabine returned, the group of teens was sitting at the table, listening to stories that Dorjee was telling them and Adrien was translating. Marinette was sure to keep an eye on her boyfriend to make sure that he wasn't feeling drained by the constant translation at all.

Thankfully, the return of the rest of their group meant that Sabine could step in and Adrien could sit back and take a break. He and Marinette moved to the back of the group, where they could listen but still sit back and talk about something else if they wanted.

"It's interesting that so many people in his family were Chosen," Marinette commented as her mom started translating. "And that they picked so many more to go through training. I wonder why?"

"And I wonder if that was common," Adrien added. "If it was just the Rat's family or others as well. Master Fu hasn't ever said anything about other members of his family going to the temple."

Marinette worried her lip, glancing over at the old Guardian. "It's possible that there were other members of his family there and they were killed in whatever battle broke out."

"There weren't," Tikki assured him. "He was an only child, born of parents who were only children. There were past holders in his bloodline, but his parents hadn't been picked to stay and work on learning magic, or to be holders of their own."

"Actually, they chose to leave," Wayzz corrected as he floated past and happened to overhear their conversation. "They had completed their training, but didn't agree with what the temple was trying to do. I believe that they hadn't wanted Master Fu to go, but finally relented. After all, change is best implemented on the inside. It is unfortunate that he didn't have the opportunity to produce that change in a peaceful manner, but I doubt it would have been easy. By the time Master Fu went through, the temple leaders were very set in their ways."

"So was it common for a lot of people from certain families to go through?" Adrien asked, frowning. "Why?"

Wayzz stayed silent for a few seconds, clearly thinking his answer over. "Well, there are side effects of having a Miraculous. You're exposed to magic- a great deal of magic- on a regular basis. And that has a lasting effect, and even passes down to offspring."

"It's why we don't exactly encourage passing a Miraculous down through a family," Tikki explained. "That residual magic builds up over time. It's good for being in tune with magic and being able to cast it without being a Miraculous holder or even working in tandem with a Miraculous holder, and there were theories that if someone had many ancestors who were holders, they might manifest untold powers, or even be able to transform without a kwami's assistance."

"But the leaders of the temple didn't care what we said," Plagg added. There was a scowl on his face. "They wanted to push the boundaries. And really, Master Fu shouldn't be beating himself up so much over the temple's fall. Sure, he was the one who tipped the balance that last little bit too far, but the actions of the temple over the centuries before that had started the process."

Marinette and Adrien exchanged a glance. "So whoever it was who attacked the temple, they had had a lot of holders in their family?" Marinette guessed. "And so they were really good at magic?"

Tikki nodded. "And they were angry that they hadn't been Chosen, too, since it was seen as such a...well, as an expectation, at that point. They were kept on as a Mage, though, and entrusted with several texts."

"I can see where this is going," Adrien said, sitting back and looking at Marinette. "They created and then recruited kids with some tendency towards magic, and then when some of them were rejected in favor of others, they got bitter."

"Something would have given eventually," Tikki agreed. "And we warned them! Duusu warned them! But did anyone listen? No!"

"Wait, so what about the Rat and the other Miraculous that have been passed down through families since the temple fell?" Marinette wanted to know. "They're bound to have powers, right?"

Tikki shook her head, then paused before nodding and then shaking her head again. "Technically, yes? But their kwamis wouldn't have told them what to do to access those powers if they weren't needed. And they would need training to even realize that they had powers at all."

"And more recently, with longer lifespans, the Miraculous aren't passed down to the next generation until after that generation had children," Wayzz chimed in again. "So then it doesn't affect the generation after that. It gets diluted back out over time."

"So if the kwamis were warning them against recruiting so heavily from the same families, why didn't anyone listen?" Adrien asked. "Why were they trying to breed magic kids?"

"Well, they wanted to be well-defended," Tikki started. "And the kwamis had made no secret that they didn't want to be confined to the temple from the start. So their 'compromise' was that once they had enough powerful Mages, our Chosens could venture out in search of trouble more, accompanied by either another holder or a paired Mage. And- well. The second part was just conjecture, really."

Adrien and Marinette sat up and listened, interested. Tikki made a face, clearly not eager to say any more. Plagg looked uneasy as well.

Wayzz glanced around before answering, making sure that the others in the group still weren't paying any attention to them. "There was an idea that maybe, after enough generation, people would have powerful enough magic that it would pull in some of the kwami that were created when the universe was born, but never really solidified here on earth as physical beings like Tikki and Plagg and I and the others in the box." Wayzz gestured to the other kwamis. "They thought, how cool would it be to have more Miraculous, to have more powers to work with? It was a poor idea from the start, though. I suspect that given another generation or two, the tendency towards magic in non-holders would either plateau or become too much for a single human to bear."

Marinette worried her lip as she considered the new information. The more she heard about the temple through the kwami's point of view, the more she agreed that it was a good thing that it had fallen. It kind of sounded like despite their original good intentions, it had warped into a power-seeking group. It was truly fortunate that they hadn't tried to regroup with what members they had left, and that Master Fu apparently hadn't had the same ambitions as the other leaders of the temple.

"They discovered a lot of useful information about kwami powers and how they could be used, to be sure, and recorded everything they learned so that future generations would be able to access it," Wayzz told them after a minute. "It wasn't all bad. And I quite liked my Chosens. It was just that they got very stuck on what they considered to be a good idea and didn't listen to us."

"So what are the effects of two Miraculous holders having a kid?" Adrien asked, and Marinette's cheeks warmed when she realized that he was glancing her way. "When neither of them have had ancestors that were holders, I mean."

Wayzz opened his mouth to answer, but Tikki beat him to it.

"Actually, Marinette's family has some traces of magic. It's enough to make me think that you probably had maybe two or three ancestors who went through the temple," she told Marinette, making her eyes widen in surprise. Tikki had never told her that before.

"And Adrien's dad, obviously-" Plagg started, but Tikki cut him off.

"That doesn't count, Plagg! And you know that," Tikki scolded. "It only counts when they're users before they have kids."

Plagg looked contrite at that.

"The kids would be able to do some minor magic without a Miraculous, but nothing major or anything worth worrying about," Wayzz told Adrien. "And like we said, they would have to be trained to do magic in order to actually use it. There's no need for you to be concerned."

Plagg's downtrodden expression quickly vanished and he flashed a toothy grin at Adrien. "Were you planning on it being something to be concerned about soon?"

Adrien turned red, and Marinette could feel her own blush darkening. "Plagg!"

The rest of the group turned to look at them, and the two of them only turned even redder. Adrien managed to make an embarrassed hand flop towards his kwami, and the rest of the group's gazes shifted to the kwami as one before they nodded and turned back to pay attention to the Rats as they continued their stories.

Marinette leaned against Adrien as they settled down to listen to the stories again, dropping the topic of the Miraculous children at least for now. Adrien's arm wound around her back to pull her close, and she dropped her head down onto his shoulder.

This was what they had needed, after over a week of hiking and another week before that of travel to get to the start of the trail. Just one day to eat properly, and sleep in a room instead of a cramped tent, and to talk to some new people.

Just one day, and then tomorrow they would be heading out again.

Even if they hadn't planned for it in the first place, just one day wasn't nearly enough to get everything done that Master Fu had wanted to do. They had all overslept, exhausted from the days and days of physical activity, and then the shopping for more fruits and vegetables took longer than anticipated. Thankfully the teens were willing to help out with removing the trash from their food bag and with washing their own laundry, but then the food bag had to be repacked carefully, so that the food they had just bought wouldn't get squished in the bottom. He had to get his own things cleaned and hung up to dry in the summer sun, and then of course there were the discussions with the Rats about how much money he owed them for their hospitality and all of the food their group had eaten and figuring out the logistics of having Tsomo tag along with them on the last stretch to the temple, since he would need to bring along his own camping gear as well.

Master Fu was also trying to see if he could arrange to return in a future year to talk more with Dorjee about the history of the temples and the people who lived there, because the other man was so interested in hearing about it- and, well, because he wanted to know more about the family and what the future plans were for the Rat Miraculous.

One couldn't be too careful, after all. If Dorjee had heard from the past Rats about the magical powers that could develop in families with a lot of Miraculous ancestors... well, he didn't want that to start up again.

Dinner flew by in a flurry of conversation and translations back and forth, and then Tsomo headed off with Dorjee to make sure that his uncle would be all right on his own for a few more days. Master Fu took the opportunity to make sure that his group was prepared for the next few days.

"I just want to remind you all that the trip home will be very hard on all of the kwami," Master Fu started seriously. He gestured to where Wayzz was hungrily munching down on a pile of fern fiddleheads on the table. "It'll drain them, being transformed for so long. I did my best to prepare Wayzz before our trip, and I wouldn't be surprised if he goes into a bit of a hibernation once we're done. So no using powers just for fun. If an emergency comes up, only then should you consider doing anything more than just keeping your basic transformation."

All of the kwami looked very serious. Plagg made a face and flopped onto Adrien's shoulder, clearly distressed at the idea of so much work. Marinette raised a wary hand.

"...yes, Marinette?"

"Chat Noir and I were wondering about if we could get Tikki to create an actual wakeboard for us to use while crossing any large lakes we come across," Marinette said, looking a little anxious. "So does that mean that we have to give up that idea and find a piece of wood every time instead?"

Master Fu considered that. "Well, we don't know for certain if we'll be crossing lakes," he started. "It is likely, I have to admit. But I would say don't use your Lucky Charm for that until we have such a crossing, and then of course keep it afterwards for future use."

Nino frowned at that. "Wait, won't we definitely be crossing a lake, though? Or are we heading back out to the trail a different way than we came in?"

"I have not asked." Master Fu admitted. "There may be a different path that the Rat has in mind. But if we have any more lakes, then that might be acceptable."

Marinette and Adrien grinned. A few of the other teens looked a tad jealous.

"And another bit of bad news," Master Fu said, trying not to look as downtrodden as he felt. He hadn't been looking forward to delivering this bit of news, but it was necessary. "I've been talking to Wayzz, and after a week and a half out on the trail, he's started to suspect that the more weight I'm carrying in the shell, the larger the toll it takes on him. So we're going to have to alter our routines just a bit."

"No more rides in the turtle shell?" Chloe asked.

"No more unnecessary rides in the turtle shell," Master Fu clarified. "Not unless we're just doing a short shot at high speed. And you'll have to transform with your big backpacks, so that those aren't in the shell. Some rides won't be avoidable, of course- the Rat will have to ride with me in order to keep up with the group, and Mrs. Agreste will as well- but we don't want to exhaust Wayzz."

The group nodded, looking serious. Master Fu knew that they probably weren't thrilled, especially since they were getting more and more tired of hiking all of the time and it was so much easier to just ride along than it was to run or jump or pole their way across the landscape.

"And I just want to remind everyone before we start out again that we should get into the habit of only referring to each other by our superhero names when transformed," Master Fu continued, figuring that he might as well get the rest of his comments out of the way. There were fewer complaints about the shell news than he had expected, though perhaps that was because they had seen how tired Wayzz had been. "I know that I haven't set a particularly good example with that from the start of our journey, since I didn't discourage people from using my civilian name while transformed, but it's something we should do. And I would even extend that into the time that we're not transformed, in case Mrs. Agreste overhears us talking while we're in the tents."

"That'll be easy enough for when we're talking to Ladybug and Chat Noir, I feel," Nino joked, gesturing at Adrien and Marinette. "Since we were used to calling them that for ages. Same with the Rat. The rest of us, though..."

"Well, that's why we have to start now." Sabine glanced over the group. "I'm sure we can get used to it."

Fu hoped so. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Mrs. Agreste discovered the identity of almost anyone in the group- Ladybug and Chat Noir being the exception, of course, and it not being a huge deal would only hold true if the entries in the journal were accurate and she didn't have any designs on any of the Miraculous- but he would prefer that they all stayed undiscovered. It was safer that way.

Thankfully, it seemed that Ladybug and Chat Noir were already in the habit of using only superhero names when they were transformed, and the others in the group were so used to considering Ladybug and Chat Noir as completely separate from Marinette and Adrien that they weren't likely to trip up there. He was naturally more used to using superhero names rather than their given names as well. But there was still a chance that one of the newer superheroes could mess up and spoil their cover.

"I also wanted to remind you that in the event that we succeed with our mission, we will have to be careful about what we talk about," Master Fu continued before the group could get into any sort of debate about who was or wasn't most likely to slip up. "No mentions of what grade you'll be entering or what school, or names of your friends, or where you live. It probably won't take her long to figure out that we live in Paris, at least, but maybe we can keep the neighborhood a secret."

There were nods of understanding all around, and Fu had to hope that they would all remember. It was easy enough to say now that yes, they weren't going to say anything that might give Mrs. Agreste any hints about their identities (and yes, the Miraculous magic would protect them, keeping Mrs. Agreste from making any connections too easily, but it wasn't foolproof). It would be harder to actually do it.

There couldn't be any more offhand comments of oh, we should get together with Rose and Juleka and Mylène or I wonder how many races Kim and Alix have done so far this summer or I'm gonna spend the rest of the summer lying next to the pool on top of Daddy's hotel and not walking at all. No references to designs that Marinette was drawing, or Alya's work on her blog now that Ladybug and Chat Noir were semi-retired, or Nino's work on an entry for a music competition, or Tom and Sabine's bakery.

It was harder than they would think it was. Fu knew from experience, when he was fleeing from the falling temple and couldn't tell the people he met on his travels about his previous life. Even now, well over a hundred years later, there was so much that he couldn't bring up with normal people.

He could say that he was originally from Tibet, of course. He could say that he grew up there, but not when. He couldn't mention why he had left. It was important for him to not reference too many experiences and trips, because then people started to wonder how he had fit in so much when he was just a humble massage and herbal therapy business owner.

"Is that it?" Chloe asked after a few too many moments of silence. "We just have to not do anything stupid that might give us away. We've all heard of the Superhero Code of Functioning or whatever. Keep your secret identity secret is, like, number one on the list. Basic stuff."

Master Fu caught sight of Marinette rolling her eyes at that while Adrien looked exasperated and tried not to smile. The two of them knew full well how hard it could be to keep a secret identity secret from people they knew. It could take some practice to not just blurt out things that they would normally say, and only the two of them and him had any experience with that.

"That is it, and I'll remind everyone again once we get closer," Fu told Chloe. "And just to remind everyone, we'll be starting out bright and early tomorrow so be sure to turn in early."

"And Tsomo is coming with us?" Alya asked, just to confirm. "To show us the fastest way to the temple?"

Master Fu nodded. "He will be. It will be nice to have another guide, one who is more familiar with the landscape than I am." Heaven knew that it had been ages since he had been in the area. "And we'll be able to go faster all the time. It'll shave a few more days off of our journey, for sure."

The grins that he got in response to that said it all. Fabulous.

Just like they had on every other day on their trip, they set out early. Dorjee saw them off, waving from the doorway as they all transformed and headed off at the approximate speed of a speeding racecar, squinting against the chilly early-morning wind. The Rat rode in the shell behind Jade Turtle, clutching tight to the shell as they raced over the landscape.

"We aren't going to try to do the rest of the trip at this speed, are we?" Rena Rouge called, voice raised to be heard above the wind. "I don't mean to complain already, but it's really hard to keep up like this."

"What, can't you swing it?" Queen Bee taunted. She was flying behind Master Fu's shell, hanging on with one hand and letting herself be pulled along. Lycaena was doing the same. "This speed is fun!"

Rena scowled. "You're not even doing any work!"

"Girls, please," Jade Turtle cut across before Queen Bee could respond. "Once we get back to where we were when we met the Rat, then we will probably slow down a bit again. After all, he's never taken the trail at these kinds of speeds before."

"It looks slightly different as a blur, huh?"

Rena Rouge rolled her eyes at the smirk on Queen Bee's face and refocused her efforts on running as fast as she could. She and Paon had the hardest task out of all of them, really. Jade Turtle of course only had to focus on steering- the speed didn't seem to take any extra work or concentration from him at all, the Rat got to ride along since he couldn't run at super-speeds, Queen Bee and Lycaena got to get dragged along by the shell as long as they kept themselves in the air, and Ladybug and Chat Noir- well, they had managed to get into a routine of poling and yo-yoing across the landscape as a team, and they were making it look completely effortless.

And they were somehow managing to look cute together at the same time. It was utterly unfair, really, but Rena couldn't help but smile a little as she glanced over at the superhero duo.

They were every bit as cute as Rena had thought they would be, though she couldn't say for certain if she was referring to what she had thought Marinette and Adrien would be like or what Ladybug and Chat Noir would be like when they finally got together.

It was a mix of both, really, if perhaps leaning a little more towards the Ladynoir dynamic. There was a level of comfort there that hadn't been present between Adrien and Marinette before, and banter that Alya hadn't expected from them. But knowing what she did now, well...

Their level of comfort with each other- and Adrien's tendency to turn to Marinette for support- made perfect sense.

"I wish we could double up like them," Paon called to her, speeding up briefly so that they were jumping and gliding side by side. "Ladybug and Chat Noir look like they aren't even trying, don't they?"

Rena Rouge nodded as her boyfriend perfectly echoed her own thoughts. It was frustrating being hardly able to keep up with Jade Turtle- and how odd was that, that a turtle could go faster than a fox? perhaps it was just a matter of seniority- and she was going to get exhausted really fast.

It was too bad that Trixx and Duusu couldn't lend their energy to Wayzz so that she and Paon could just ride along in the shell like they had before for the entire journey. That had been fun.

So Rena Rouge ran, jumping and running and hoping that she wouldn't land funny as Jade Turtle sped over fields and through narrow trails. She got to hop back in the shell as they went zipping over the lake that Chat Noir and Ladybug had wakeboarded over on the way towards the Rat's house. Ladybug and Chat Noir fell behind briefly as Ladybug summoned a wakeboard, and then the duo was zipping across the water after them. Both shell and wakeboard sent up a plume of water behind them, and Rena Rouge reached out behind them, trying to catch some of the water on her arm. Even through the protection of the suit, she could feel a bit of the water's bite, harsh enough that it would probably hurt quite a bit if she weren't transformed.

Then they were jumping out as they got to the shore and jumping straight back into their all-out sprint. Then the lake was fading into the distance and they were zipping over a familiar blurred pile of rocks as they reached the same part of the trail where they had left off. The Rat scooted forward and started saying something to Master Fu, and their course altered, just a bit.

They must already be starting their shortcut. Rena perked up. Maybe they would slow down soon, and then she could actually enjoy their journey again.

They went up a ridge and then skimmed over the rock maze that they had been approaching earlier on, forcing Rena Rouge and Paon to watch their steps as they jumped from one rock fin to another. Ladybug and Chat Noir yelped as Chat Noir's baton skidded on the rock and sent them tumbling down a crack. They were back up seconds later, and then Ladybug slingshotted the two of them over the rest of the rock maze. Chat Noir whooped as they flew over the rest of the group.

"You guys are show-offs, I just want you to know!" Rena Rouge yelled after them, even though they probably couldn't hear her. "Freaking show-offs!"

Paon laughed. "At least they can't be smug about it, seeing as how they fell ass-over-teakettle before that."

They were over the rock maze before long, and then they were slowing down as the Rat needed to look for smaller, more easily missed landmarks.

"Oh, thank goodness," Paon breathed, stumbling a little as he adjusted his speed. "I like moving fast, but there is a limit. It's only really fun for short bursts."

Rena only nodded, too tired to do much else.

"Okay, we'll be stopping for lunch soon," Jade Turtle called after another hour as they slowed further. They were drawing close to a forest, with towering trees and deep shadows. "We'll get a bit of a break then before we continue."

Rena Rouge blinked. Was it really lunchtime already? It couldn't possibly be, could it?

"I could go for a bit longer," Ladybug said, echoing Rena's thoughts. "We're on a roll right now, why stop?"

Jade Turtle nodded. "Okay! We can keep going and stop in the forest, then. It'll be cooler there anyway. It probably wouldn't be pleasant sitting out in the sun while detransformed."

"And yet, we're fine when we're transformed!" Paon said appreciatively, long-jumping and landing well out in front. "Thank goodness for climate-controlled supersuits!"

Rena laughed at that, running and jumping after her boyfriend. He was right, of course. Her suit didn't feel cool, exactly, but she didn't feel hot and sticky anymore. It was probably a smart feature- after all, if a holder was half-dying from the heat and humidity (or the cold), then they wouldn't fight very effectively. If they were at least comfortable (and especially if their enemy was not), then they could fight properly.

...not that she would be a terrific fighter even with the temperature absolutely ideal. She just hadn't had that much experience yet, and honestly, the chance that she would get that experience was... not high.

They plunged into the forest, flashes of colors between the shadows of the trees. A few times, Rena only barely missed colliding with a trunk of a tree when she tried to move too fast.

(A crash and some muffled swearing told her that Paon hadn't been quite as successful at weaving between the trees. Rena resisted the urge to turn around to make sure that he was all right, but a) she knew that the supersuit would protect him, and b) if she lost concentration for even a second, Rena knew that she would be the next one slamming into a tree.)

They ran (and jumped, and poled, and flew) for nearly an hour again before stopping for a late lunch. It was nice to have fresh food again, and for once Alya savored her lunch instead of scarfing it down in order to not actually have to taste it.

She was going to spend ages eating an enjoying her mom's cooking once she got home, Alya knew it already. Her entire family would no doubt think it strange, since staying with Marinette's family suggested getting to eat meals cooked by her world-famous great-uncle, but she wouldn't be able to help it.

Maybe she could claim missing the familiar flavors of her family's favorite dishes. That would make sense, wouldn't it?

"It's nice to have a change of scenery," Nino commented as he polished off his sandwich. He gestured to the trees around them. "We've been doing mountains and fields and rocky stuff for ages."

"We had forests at the start," Adrien pointed out. He had already finished his food, though Alya suspected that it might have been more of a defense mechanism to prevent Plagg from stealing all of the cheese from the sandwich before Adrien had the chance to eat it. "But yeah, it's nice to be back in the shade. It's hard to pole my way along, though," he added, waving a hand up at the tree limbs. "I can only go so far up before I would start hitting a ton of branches on the way down. Open fields are better for that."

"Ladybug could swing you guys along, though, right?" Alya asked. "I know you wouldn't be able to swing as far or go quite as fast as you do in the city, but with your yo-yos, especially now that you have two of them..."

Marinette blinked, startled, as though she hadn't thought of that. "Oh, yeah! We could try that. The trees are mostly tall enough for it."

Adrien punched the air in mock triumph. "Yes! I can hitch a ride for a bit! That'll be great."

"If it works."

As Alya finished his meal, Adrien wandered off to talk to Chloe for a bit. Alya felt a twinge of guilt as she watched. Even though Chloe had admittedly been helpful on the trip, both as a source of money and as a scout, and she hadn't been that bad at school for the last bit of the year (particularly after she got Pollen), most of the time the four of them hung out as a group. They tended not to include her much, but then again, it often seemed that Chloe didn't exactly want to hang out with them.

Still, they had been on the trail for nearly two weeks at this point, and two weeks was a lot of time to spend largely alone and isolated from other people- and they wouldn't even be finishing the trip at the end of the second week. Plus there had been that initial week of travel out via plane and road, and they would have the same thing going back. Maybe she should try harder to actually talk to Chloe and include her.

(Were they going to be the best of friends after all of this was over? Definitely not. There was just too much bad history there. But Alya could play nice for the duration of the trip, as long as Chloe wasn't in a bad mood.)

With lunch polished off and their leftovers tucked back into Master Fu's backpack, they all transformed again and were off. Rena Rouge grinned as she watched Ladybug swinging easily from tree to tree like a kid on the monkey bars at the park, Chat Noir clinging to her like some sort of oversized kitty backpack. It really hadn't taken them long at all to adapt to the new way of moving, but considering how experienced they were as superheroes- well, Rena wasn't really surprised.

Above the treeline, Lycaena and Queen Bee were tracking their progress, flying in a straight line without having to dodge tree trunks and branches. Rena felt a bit jealous about that, really. Neither of them had to pay that much attention to where they were going in order not to smack right into a tree.

And speaking of flying, ladybugs could fly. So why couldn't Ladybug? Maybe that was an experience thing, too-

"Ow!"

Rena tumbled and hit the ground after her shoulder smacked into a tree following a misjudged jump, sending her off balance. She tumbled, quietly swearing under her breath before she found her footing again and kept going.

She had changed her mind. Rena Rouge hated the forest. Meadows were much better, even with their hidden uneven ground and roots sticking up from bushes, just the right size for her toes to get snagged. At least her suit had protected her from the impact.

"I think this bird is tired of the forest, too," Paon told her, slowing down to glide by her side. "Which is funny, really. Don't peacocks live in forests?"

Rena wasn't sure. "Do they?"

"I don't know!"

She had to laugh. "Didn't you look it up at all?"

"Nah, I had better things to do before we left. Studying, mixes that I meant to get done during the school year that I needed to get done before I forgot about them, hanging out with Adrien..."

"It would have been a two-minute Google search, tops."

Paon just grinned, utterly unrepentant.

Up ahead, the Rat said something and Jade Turtle sped up. Rena Rouge did her best to keep up, stretching to her limits. To her surprise, now that she was not nearly as tired as she had been in the morning and could actually focus on what she was doing, she found the suit's powers stretching as well, giving her more power behind each step and jump. She had no trouble keeping up with the new pace, which...

Well, if they weren't in the woods, with hitting a tree a serious possibility, she would have tried to push even harder to see how fast she could really go. It would be fun to try, and to see how much she could push herself and Trixx before it started affecting them.

It took all of her focus to keep up the speed, keep an eye on Jade Turtle and the Rat so she could follow them, and dodge all of the trees and roots that popped up left and right. She hopped over a short bush and kept running, eyes flashing back and forth to make sure that she didn't get lost. She had just gotten into a routine- look, jump, glance to Jade Turtle, check landing, step, step, repeat- when a loud crack followed by a dual yelp, two thuds and then a larger thud had them all skidding to a stop, feet plowing up dirt as they turned to see what had happened.

What they saw were the two Heroes of Paris sprawled on the ground, a large dead branch pinning them down. Ladybug's yo-yo was still wound around the branch, and the large end was cracked off.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Ladybug had accidentally snagged a rotted branch that couldn't hold their weight, and it had come down on top of them, surprising them enough that they couldn't manage to get out of the way before it landed. Both superheroes were groaning as they worked to untangle themselves in the cramped space under the branch and slowly push it off. The Rat hopped out of the shell and hurried back to help them, levering the large branch up so that Ladybug and Chat Noir could crawl out, both dusting bits of bark from their hair but otherwise none the worse for wear.

Rena couldn't help it, she really couldn't. She burst out into laughter at their grouchy expressions, clearly a bit embarrassed by the accident.

"I can't believe I thought you were cool once," she told them as they joined her and Paon next to the trail. "Biggest lie ever."

"Oh, shush," Ladybug grumbled, but Rena could see the corner of her lips twitching. "We're cool. Right, chaton?"

Chat Noir perked up immediately, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! Super cool!"

Rena Rouge rolled her eyes properly at that. Esteemed superheroes of Paris or not, they were such dorks.

Ah, well. She loved them anyway.

#Miraculous Ladybug #There's No Camembert in Tibet #My writing

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fandomfindings · 6 years

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Pairing: (Connor x Reader)

Word Count : 1.6K

Warning(s) : Detroit: Become Human Spoilers

Summary: You return to Detroit after three years to see an old mentor and friend of yours Hank. In the process you reunite with your furry friend Sumo and learn some things about a lovable android named Connor.

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You stood outside of Hank’s house with a lopsided smirk on your face.You were familiar with the house for you had spent much time there before you left Detroit. You knew the ends and outs of the house, but knowing Hank you wouldn’t need to. Hank used to keep everything locked around the place from doors, to windows, even Sumo’s doggy door. However,knowing his situation you knew he most likely fell off his game as of lately and would care less about his own well being.You started at the door just for the heck of it and it was in fact locked.The next thing you checked was the window to the living room area.

You weren’t surprised that the window was unlocked, so you opened it and climbed inside. Unfortunately, as soon as you entered the house you slipped on one of Sumo’s toys and landed on your back with a loud thud.The harsh fall knocked all the wind from your lungs. Your mood quickly became sour, but this was short lived once Sumo himself began to lick your face repeatedly.Sumo had obviously recognized you and possibly your scent and that made you smile. Laughter quickly filled the area around you two once he continued to lick you.

“Down Sumo down.” you said, moving from your back to your knees as the saint bernard continued to attack you with his tongue.

“Yes you are a good boy, I know. Do you know what good boys get? They get a new toy! “ you exclaimed, pulling a brand new squeaky toy from behind your back with a smile. You did not notice but Hank and an android were glancing at you questiongly. You knew your plan to sneak up on Hank was a fail once Sumo approached you but right now you couldn’t care less. You like dogs.

“Hank, there is a highly attractive intruder in your house,what shall I do? “ the android spoke. You heard him and was actually quite flattered he found you attractive but you were too focused on Sumo to respond. Hank was slightly surprised by Connor commentating on your appearance but he ignored it with a simple shake of his head.

“No Connor there's no intruder.” Hank stated boredly, placing the beer he had in his hand on the kitchen table.

“I wouldn't go that far, I did sneak into your house.” you countered finally standing up from the floor. Sumo looked slightly disappointed that you left him but all you had to do was rub his head and he was fine again. He began to occupy himself with the new toy you got him.

“I would not classify your actions as ‘sneaking’, you were easily detected within your first twelve seconds of arrival.” Connor corrected, the more robotic part about being an android shining through.

“Thanks for the status report bot boy. I honestly didn’t expect Sumo to greet me right away or Hank to have an android in his house.” You clarified as you walked over to Connor and Hank. You patted Connor on the shoulder, clearly making him slightly uneasy.

“Yeah well I've changed alot since you left.” Hank stated, taking another swig of his beer.

“I can see that.”. You knew Hank drunk on occasion but it is quite clear that ever since the accident his drinking has become more of a problem.

“Why are you here Y/N ?” Hank questioned.

“They called me back, can you believe that ?” You said, giving him an awkward chuckle along with your explanation.

“Ok and what else. You didn't have to come back if you didn't really want to.”. Hank was obviously on to you. Ever since you left Detroit you have made a name for yourself and he knew that. If you did not want to come back to Detroit you didn’t have to but you wanted to.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok. I know I left when you weren't in the best of places but I honestly had no choice in that.I had some people around town and the station keep tabs on you for me,hope you don't mind.” You said with a smugness to your voice. You grabbed Hank’s beer and took a swig before handing it back to him.

“Even if I did you would’ve done it anyway. Look I appreciate you coming by but can we have this reunion another time, I'm tired.” Hank commented ,standing up from his chair.

“Yeah sure. Tomorrow at Chicken Feed 2 pm?”

“Sure kid. Connor walk her out make sure she doesn’t get mugged or something.Come on Sumo.” Hank commanded his precious dog. Sumo barked as if responding to him and followed,but not before giving your hand one last lick of his tongue.

“ I can handle myself Hank!” You shouted jokingly in his direction since he actually got pretty far in the short time.

“ I know.” Hank responded before shutting his door with a slight thud.

You look over to Connor who had barely moved since you arrived to the house. The only movement he implemented was turning around to face you and Hank once you passed him.You observed the android trying to take in everything about his appearance. You had never seen an an android of his model before besides from tv, and you knew why. Without another word you began to walk towards the door knowing the android would follow.

“How do you know Lieutenant Anderson?“ Connor questioned as you both walked outside of the door and into the cold harsh wind of Detroit. Connor knew he could have scanned you ever since you ‘broke’ into Hank’s house but he strangely wanted to hear your story from you and not a computer database. He wanted to hear your voice even more than he already had.

“He hasn't mentioned me ? I'm a little hurt.” You mentioned jokingly, however Connor did not seem to register your tone so you continued to speak.

“I was his trainee a while back. He taught me everything I know. Once I became an official officer they relocated me out of Detroit since other cities were low on cops. I didn't really have a say in the matter since I was new to the force. When I left it was hard for Hank since he was going through some things at the time.”. With your words the mood obviously changed to a more somber one, which Connor was undoubtedly aware of.

“I presume you are referring to the death of his son Cole.”

“You would be correct. He passed 3 months before they moved me. I was the one thing keeping Hank semi stable in a way. I know his pain to a slight extent since I was close to Cole. I used to babysit him whenever I could. He was a good kid.” You spoke with sadness in your voice and upon your face, something Connor took notice of. Your sadness took a hold of Connor’s own emotions and in turn made him saddened as well.

“ So I have heard. I am sorry for your lost.” Connor stated trying to make an effort to comfort you.His actions made you smile in return to show you appreciation.

“Thanks. So what's your story?” You asked, wanting to to change the subject to something more light hearted.

“ What do you mean ?” He wondered, no one really took an interest in him or his story. He was honestly surprised by your question but also happy that you were taking an interest in him.

“ I saw you on TV with that Markus guy, your leader. However, I also know you are an advanced prototype that was sent by CyberLife to help humans like Hank in investigating cases involving deviant androids.”.Connor was astounded by the knowledge you knew about him. It wasn’t hard information to come by but given that he had heard nothing about you and yet you seemed to know almost everything about him.

“How did you...”. Connor began to question but you cut him off.

“I told you I had eyes and ears everywhere. What I really want to know is how such an astute android like you can become deviant, and even help lead a revolution.”

“I was created to complete a mission and I intended to do whatever meant necessary for those missions,but something changed in me. I suddenly began to have these feelings that I knew nothing about. I started to have empathy for those androids who were forced into hiding or worse.I experienced first hand what it felt like to die when an android killed himself during one of Hank’s and I mission. I was scared. It was something I never experienced yet I knew this was how deviants felt everyday and I didn’t want that for my fellow androids. I decided to join them because I didn’t want us to have to live in fear any longer.” Connor said, finishing his monologue and answering all of your questions in the process.

“Fascinating. I’m sorry you had to go through that but it brought you here, which doesn’t seem to bad to me. Well I look forward to working with you.” You mentioned smiling to Connor, once again trying to lighten the mood.

“Working with me ?” Connor questioned. He knew you said the department called you back to Detroit but he didn’t know you two would be working directly together.

“Yes sir. You're looking at Detroit's newest red ice detective. Since a new wave of it has hit the area they’re putting Hank back on the case along with myself. You guys are getting the briefing tomorrow.” You explained as you both finally reached your car. You had parked it good distance away since you didn’t want it to draw attention during your ‘break in’ .

“Well then I look forward to working with you as well.” Connor said with genuine happiness in his voice.

“I was hoping you'd say that.” You admitted finally getting into your car with a wink and driving off, leaving Connor with a smile beyond belief on his face.

A/N : Thank you all for reading! I absolutely love Connor and his adorableness so I loved writing this imagine.Please feel free to leave me some feedback on how you think I did! :)

#detroit beome human #dbh #dbh connor #detroit become human connor #connor rk800 #gender neutral reader #connor x reader #dbh imagine #connor imagine #connor #detroit become human imagine #detroit become human x reader #dbh connnor x reader

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