#haven’t decided if he’s a teacher or a local doctor yet (this time around) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

siswritesyanderes · 3 years

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Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

#yandere twilight #not harry potter #yandere carlisle cullen #yandere esme cullen #male yandere #female yandere #obsession #stalker #twilight fanfiction

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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“All you have to do is ask” Chapter 5 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: The team has a case that takes them to Illinois. Our favorite boy wonder gets jealous and challenges Reader. So, she decides to show him who is really in charge.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female Reader)

Word Count: 5.7k for Chapter 5

Content Warning: Here we go. The team has a case, so talk about m*rder, the usual criminal minds stuff. Jealousy. BDSM. Femdom. Degradation. Slapping. Spitting. Face sitting. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. And I think that’s it.

A/n: In celebration of my 1 week of writing again, and all the lovely support I’ve gotten, I’m giving you chapter 5 a day early. Chapter 6 is still scheduled for Saturday. (Mostly because I haven’t written it all yet.) Chapter 5 is my favorite so far. I hope you love it as much as I do...because things only escalate in chapter 6. 😇 Some names on my tag list still aren’t working. I’m sorry!

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text are Reader’s thoughts.

-- Chapter 5: “Are you jealous, Doctor?” –

I don’t resent my job, I repeated mentally for the thousandth time. I don’t resent my job. I am not upset. I am happy to be here to help people in need. I didn't even sound very convincing in my own mind. I had known it was too good to be true. I finally had Dr. Reid right where I wanted him…when both of our phones chimed with the same text message. "Avengers, ASSEMBLE.” But it’s fine that we’re sitting on the jet at 10 pm headed to the Midwest. Keep telling yourself that, y/n. Serial killers were such cock blocks.

The ding from the computer on the small table signaled Garcia's digital arrival. "Hello, my loves!" Her sunshine personality would not be dampened by our sleepy grumbles. Or sexually frustrated grumbles, in my case; and from the way Dr. Reid kept sneaking glances at me, I suspected his too.

“What do we know so far?” Hotch asked, cutting right to business. If he was tired, he certainly didn't show it. I'm still not even sure if he's human.

“The Illinois state police say that our 5th victim is named Sarah Gossman. She was a 32-year-old middle school teacher. Reported missing by her husband, Ralph, two days ago. Locals didn’t realize she was connected to the other victims until her body was found 2 hours ago.”

Hotch nodded, scanning the open file in front of him. “How were they able to connect them, Penelope?” David Rossi, the grandfather of the BAU questioned.

Garcia cringed. “They found the same wound on her shoulder blade. A square of her skin was missing.”

“It’s an interesting signature,” Spencer interjected. “The edges look jagged. Almost like the blade was serrated.”

“That’s what the M.E.’s thought too.”

“Babygirl, do they know if it’s the same knife that was used in the other murders?”

For a moment all that was heard was the clicking of her keys. “That is the suspicion, my beautiful chocolate sculpture of perfection.” I snorted at that one; every once in a while, their flirting quips got me. “They need the knife to be sure.”

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch said before ending the video call. “Alright, if this unsub holds to pattern, he is going to take his next victim before 10 am tomorrow morning.”

“We might not be able to stop it,” Prentiss said. “But we can get her back. He keeps them for at least 36 hours.”

Hotch nodded. “Get some sleep if you can; it’s gonna be a long night.”

I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder; my fear evaporating when I turned and saw it was just JJ. “Hey,” she said softly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said with a yawn that I couldn’t muffle. “I just feel like I’m stuck in a swamp, you know?” She nodded. “How he’s choosing them will be how we find him. How we find her.”

True to pattern, the unsub took his next victim the following morning after the body of Sarah Gossman was found. Alicia Sheldon, 31, was reported missing by her mother just after 10 am this morning. We had no proof that she was with our unsub outside of the profile, but we all knew that the clock was ticking if we wanted to bring her home alive.

JJ nodded, reading over my shoulder. “Narrowing down when can help too. Any luck?”

“Not really,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I don’t think he does it at night, though. Garcia was able to see the activity for Alicia’s phone before she was taken. She replied to a text message at 4:45 am this morning.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s early.”

“What’s early?” Emily Prentiss asked as she walked into the conference room, Derek following after her.

“4:45 am is early,” I supplied. “Alicia replied to a text at that time.”

"Do we know if it was her?" That voice came from someone I hadn't laid eyes on yet. He must have followed Derek and Prentiss in. Dr. Reid was staring at me intently, his shirt wrinkled, glassed perched on the bridge of his nose. Even like this, he was so pretty it almost hurt to look at him. “Could the unsub have answered the text message to throw off suspicion?”

“I don’t think so, Doc.” I pointed at the evidence board where her most recent text messages and emails had been printed and tacked up. “Her text seemed personal. Not too much detail. It was sent to her best friend; unless the unsub was stalking her, there isn’t a way he would know that.”

Spencer nodded, walking around the table until he came to rest in front of the board. “Why would she be up so early…” His posture stiffened. What do you have, baby? What do you see? He turned and hit the phone that was in the center of the table.

“Speak and be heard.”

“Garcia, can we determine what time the last digital activity any of the women had was? We need to determine if they were all taken in the early morning hours.”

Morgan commented, “What are you thinking, Kid?”

Spencer didn’t answer, Garica spoke first. “Victim one and three are a no go; but victims 2 and 4 both had some digital dealings before 5 am the days they were reported missing, but they were all still at home according to the GPS on their phones.”

"Again, I say, Jesus, that's early."

I nodded at JJ. “Right. Who wakes up that early?”

“Someone with a strict routine,” Spencer said, his eyes never straying from the paper in front of him. “Garcia, did all of the victims have gym memberships?”

“Yeah, but to different gyms.”

Reid looked like he had just won the lottery. “What if all the women were on their way to the gym when he grabbed them? They all look athletic but have hectic schedules; it might be the only time they can fit it in. It’s still dark, but it’s technically morning. The women might feel safer. We didn't connect it right away because victims 2, 3, and 4 lived alone, no one knew their routines. He lies in wait and then grabs them, stuffing them into their own cars and driving off.” He was speaking rapidly at this point. “That could be why no one has found their cars yet. He has them.”

“Oh shit,” I muttered. “We need to see if the gyms have outside cameras.”

“Already on it, crimefighters.”

The unsub had left his car in parking lots adjacent to the gyms where the women were abducted for almost 2 days each time.

He thought he was smart; Spencer Reid was smarter.

“Hey,” a voice called from behind me. I turned to come face to face with a local deputy. He was a bit taller than me, stocky build, blonde hair that was cropped close to his scalp. “Good work out there today, Agent.”

“Thanks. You too, Deputy.” I turned, continuing to pack up my files. I was ready to go to the hotel and get some fucking sleep. Our jet was set to head out at 8 am the following morning. I’d gotten some sleep Saturday night; the team had gone back to the hotel in shifts while we continued searching for the unsub. But now it was Sunday afternoon and the exhaustion was starting to wear on me.

He cleared his throat, wanting my full attention again. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go for a drink?” Oh no.

I smiled at him, trying to be polite. “Oh, thanks for the offer but I’m really tired and we fly out early tomorrow.”

Deputy Douche didn’t like that one bit. He stepped forward, placing a hand on my upper arm. “Well, it doesn’t have to be a drink,” his smirk made my lips want to curl up in a snarl. “I can meet you back at your hotel and we can break in that bed together.”

Oh gross. I jerked my arm out of his grip. “No, thanks.” I turned my back to him.

He looked miffed but had the sense to not make a grab for me again. I felt his fingers brush over the end of my hair as he leaned in. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he whispered. He slid a piece of paper on the desk before he turned and finally left me alone.

Gross. I threw the paper in the trash.

My attention was so focused on finishing up so I could escape before Deputy Douche came back that I didn’t notice Spencer watching me from across the precinct with a deep frown on his pretty face.

I was unbuttoning my shirt when I heard a firm knock on my hotel room door. “Come the fuck on,” I whined. Leaving the two buttons undone I went to the door, expecting to see Hotch, given how sharp that knock was. It wasn’t Hotch. It was my boy looking angrier than I’d ever seen him.

He shoved through the doorway, making his way into my room. Luckily, we all had separate rooms this time. “Well, come on in,” I muttered before I shut the door.

Spencer was fuming. “What the fuck was that?”

I blinked. “What the fuck was what?”

His hands balled into fists at his side. “At the police station. With that Deputy.”

Maybe it was how tired I was, but none of this was clicking. “Deputy Douche? You saw that?”

“Yeah, I fucking saw that,” he scoffed. “I saw him touching you. Flirting with you.”

“Right.” Right?

Wrong, apparently, because that did nothing to dampen his anger. “Why did you let him touch you?”

It clicked then, right at that exact moment I saw what was beneath his anger. “Spencer…are you jealous?" I knew it wasn't the best idea to laugh but I really couldn't help it. The idea was so ludicrous to me. Morgan didn't call Spencer 'Pretty Boy' for no reason. On top of being one of the most brilliant people in the world, he was also the most gorgeous person I had ever seen. His bone structure alone was enough to make most women do a double-take. The thought that I would choose to spend my evening with the Deputy…over Dr. Spencer Reid? Yeah, no.

His cheeks burned pink, but he held his ground. “You said we were monogamous.”

Oh, hold up. I barked out a laugh. “No,” I corrected. “I said we could talk about monogamy in our dynamic if you wanted to continue." I felt my anger rise so quickly. "You have a fucking eidetic memory, baby. You know what I said.” Plus, I can’t control who flirts with me, dickbag, I thought, choosing not to say it out loud.

His anger matched mine. “I thought it was understood!”

“Nothing is understood until we talk about it, Doc.”

“Don’t call me that, not right now.”

Bad move, baby. “Oh, so you think you give the orders, Doc?” I made sure to put a lot of emphasis on the last letter in an attempt to rile him up further.

It worked because no sooner had the words left my mouth than his body slammed into mine. His mouth sealed over my lips in an angry kiss, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth, his hands tangled in my hair, holding me to him.

I was so lost for a moment; I hadn’t felt this in so long. For years my relationships were in perfect control, nothing unexpected. Who knew Dr. Reid would be the one that broke that pattern?

I hope you’re ready for this. My right hand grabbed the hair at the back of his head, tugging hard. His mouth broke away from mine with a yelp, but my left hand came up to hold his face, forcing his lips to pucker. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He looked scared for just a moment. Come on, baby. You can do it. Enlightenment washed over his face as he whimpered out, “I’m sorry.”

I tugged his hair again, only this time he moaned softly at the sensation. “You’re sorry what?”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss.” He licked his lips, looking more unsure than scared now.

Despite how fast my heart was beating, and how blown his pupils were, I couldn’t move forward until he understood. Spencer needed to understand the rules of a situation to feel comfortable. “We don’t have to do this, baby,” my voice was a whisper; somehow my serious tone didn’t manage to break the tension that hung around us.

“I want to,” his voice was hushed, urgent. “I trust you, y/n. And I feel so…I don’t know what this feeling is.”

I rubbed my thumb over his cheek, brushing over his bottom lip. “I know, sweet boy. I’ve got you.” I pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Green, yellow, and red,” I said knowing he’d understand what I meant. “There’s no shame here, pretty boy. I will not be upset with you if you need to use a safe word. It doesn’t mean our relationship ends, just this scene.” He nodded quickly. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes Miss,” his voice was breathy, but his eyes were steady.

I smirked at him. “Good boy.” My hand tightened in his hair. “You’ll be a good boy for me, won’t you Dr. Reid?”

“Y-yes Miss.” I had guessed that the honorific would be a turn on for him, and judging by the whimper that followed his words, it looks like I was right.

“Take your clothes off and lay down in the center of the bed,” I released him, backing away to put as much space between us as I could. “Wait for me. You’re not allowed to touch yourself.” Honey brown eyes met mine, he wasn’t confused anymore. All that I saw reflecting in those eyes was desire.

I walked around him, never turning to look at him, and I headed into the bathroom. I finished taking off my shirt. I ran a brush through my hair. I did any tiny little task I could think of; I wanted him to wait.

The thing about BDSM dynamics that most people don’t understand is that no relationship is the same. The punishments that made one submissive tremble wouldn’t be effective on another. Anticipation would make Spencer squirm; I was sure of it. I had given Dr. Reid a lot of thought since our first conversation. I needed to understand what desires drove him if I was going to be able to bring him to the heights I wanted to.

Looking in the mirror, I puffed out a big breath. Truth be told, part of me being in the bathroom was to build anticipation for Spencer…but, part of it was because I was afraid. Even before tonight I had decided that my nervous boy deserved more than I gave the average sub. I cared about all my submissives to a point but, Dr. Spencer Reid was different. Maybe it’s because he had already held my life in his hands for almost a year; that made it easier…hell, it made it possible to trust him with this.

Squaring my shoulders, I turned and walked out of the bathroom. The main room was lit only by a lamp on the bedside table, covering our little world in a soft glow. I stalked slowly towards the bed, my eyes dragging up, up, up, until I saw him. He had followed my directions; I realized this was the first time I had ever seen him completely naked. He was beautiful, so beautiful. He wasn’t as scrawny as he looked to be with his clothes on. His body was covered in lean, toned muscles. He had no hair on his chest, giving him a slightly delicate appearance in my eyes; I wanted to mark that chest with scratches from my nails and bruises from my mouth. His cock laid against his thigh, half hard already. Like the good boy, I knew him to be, his arms were at his side, hands balled into tight fists.

I reached for the button of my pants, undoing them slowly, my eyes never left Spencer’s. Once my pants were off, leaving me in just my bra and panties, I placed a knee on the bed. I was careful not to touch him while I crawled up the bed to kneel beside him. Spencer's eyes bounced all over my body, his hands clenched and relaxing. My boy didn’t know what was to come and waiting for it was agonizing.

I reached out my hand to him, allowing my fingers to barely brush his arm. I trailed them up then down again and again. “Tell me why you came here tonight,” his eyes searched my face, still looking so vulnerable. “Why did you come to my door, Spencer?”

He licked his lips. “I-I was mad.”

My touch became firmer, a sort of reward for his honesty. I let my fingers wander up to his collarbone, over his chest. "Why were you mad, Dr. Reid?"

The whimper that slipped from his lips when I called him Dr. Reid was music to my ears. His hips were shifting on the bed, he was fully hard now.

“Because he touched you.”

I moved to swing my leg over his body, straddling his abdomen, careful not to touch his cock, not yet. “And why were you mad that he touched me?” I whispered.

“He can’t touch you,” his voice was breathy but firm. “You’re mine.”

Slap.

He looked startled when my open palm connected with his cheek. It wasn’t as hard as I wanted; I was still unsure. “No, Dr. Reid. I’m not yours. You are mine.” I leaned over him, my arms going to either side of his head to cage him in. “Do you understand?”

In the way that Spencer knew everything, he knew what I was really asking. His voice was no more than a whisper. “Green.”

I offered him a small smile. Then I lifted my hand to grab on to his face again. “I asked you if you understand, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer nodded quickly. “Yes Miss, I understand.”

I released his face before moving off the bed again. “You’ve been a very naughty boy, Spencer.” I gave him a frown as my hands reached behind my back to undo my bra, letting it slide down my arms. Spencer licked his lips, his fists becoming tighter. “I’m very disappointed in you, baby.”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss.” His voice was dry as he stumbled over his words.

"Are you, Dr. Reid?" I asked as my thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties. "Are you really sorry?" Wiggling them down my hips, I let them drop to the floor before I stepped out of them.

“Yes. Yes, Miss. I’m so sorry.”

I crawled onto the bed, sitting back with my legs underneath me, letting my hands run up and down the skin of my thigh. “They’re pretty words, Dr. Reid, but I don’t know if I believe you.” I tilted my head to the side, bringing both my hands to my stomach, inching them up to my breasts. I let out a moan when I finally reach my destination, massaging my breasts, twisting my nipples while Spencer watched. I heard him whimper, causing a smile to tug at my lips. You’re doing so well, baby. I raised my body up so I was on my knees; I spread my thighs slightly, letting one of my hands drop to the apex of my thighs. Spencer watched so closely I’m not sure he even blinked when I dipped one finger inside the place that ached for him. I moved my finger in and out, biting my lip while I watched him.

After a moment I removed my finger, surprising him by bringing it to his mouth. “Open.” He obeyed instantly, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked on my finger. “I wonder what else I could make you suck on.” I withdrew my finger from his mouth, bringing it back to my pussy. “How are you going to prove that you’re sorry, Dr. Reid? What are you going to do for me?”

His voice was filled with longing and hunger. “Anything, miss, I’ll do anything.”

I smirked, moving closer to him. Bracing my hands on either side of his body, I swung my leg over his torso, keeping on my knees so I didn’t touch him. Not yet. “Anything, huh?” He nodded quickly; his eyes fixed on my pussy.

I moved one hand to the headboard, the other moved to touch those beautiful curls of his, pulling hard enough to get another moan from him. “If you really want to apologize, Dr. Reid, maybe you can put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use?” I applied a tiny bit of pressure to his head.

He looked confused for a second, his eyes were wide in surprise like he couldn't believe what I was asking him to do. He probably can’t, I thought.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I teased. “Do you not want me to put my pussy on your face? You don’t want me to fuck your tongue?”

“No, no!” He whispered hurriedly. “I want that more than anything Miss.”

“Good boy.” I think he felt the significance of this moment too. “I’ll forgive you if you can make me cum before I get bored of you," I smirked down at him. “What do you think about that Dr. Reid? Can you make me cum all over your pretty little face?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Open your mouth.” I leaned over, putting my mouth closer to his, making it clear what I was going to do before I spit into his mouth. “Swallow it.” He swallowed obediently without any hesitation. Noted.

“Okay, Dr. Reid. I’ll take that apology now.”

He moved so fast. His hands hooked on the backs of my thighs, pulling me up his body while also pushing himself down the bed. My pussy was hovering over his mouth, he licked his lips, his fingers flexing on my thighs. He looked so desperate for me…but still so unsure. “Go ahead, baby,” I whisper, pulling on his hair hard enough to make him whimper.

With that, he gripped my hips and pulled me to his mouth. I felt his tongue move through my folds, gathering the wetness that pooled there. He moaned so loudly, pulling my hips down further, bringing my pussy closer to his face.

It had been so long since I’d felt this. I hadn’t let anyone touch me like this in years; it was so much better than I remembered, but that may have just been because it was Spencer doing it.

“Ugh,” I moan, starting to rock my hips. “Fuck, baby.” I pulled his hair, tugging hard enough that I knew it hurt. “I’m already getting bored, Dr. Reid, and you just started. You can do better than that.”

I wasn’t ready, not even a bit, for his lips locking around my clit. He flicked it with his tongue, then circled it, trying to find the method that made me groan and grind my pussy down on his mouth.

“That’s more like it, Dr. Reid,” I said, earning another moan from him. “I knew there had to be a better use for this smart mouth." My hips started rocking faster, his fingers were digging into my flesh. "What would the team say if they knew about what a dirty boy you are, Dr. Reid?" His tongue sped up, causing me to shudder. I bit my lip so hard I felt real pain. I didn’t want him to hear me moan; he hadn’t earned it yet. “What would they say if they heard Dr. Reid beg me to fuck his face? You’re always such a good boy, baby. But you’re not the good boy they think you are. You’re my good boy.”

My hips were moving more rapidly; Spencer hadn’t slowed his pace at all, almost like he could feel how close I was. What I had planned would be hard for me…but I knew it would be torture for him. After a few moments, when I felt my pussy spasm with the telltale signs of my impending orgasm, I gripped his hands and pulled them from me while I lifted my hips.

His mouth was red, wet, and his lips were swollen. His face morphed from one of bliss to one of confusion. “Wha-“

I moved away from him. “That was really the best you could do, Dr. Reid?” He bit into his lip, he looked almost embarrassed as his eyes moving down to my pussy.

“Please, Miss,” he begged. “Please let me finish. You taste so good. You were so close, I felt it.”

I chuckled, “Oh you felt it, huh?” I reached between my thighs, gathering some of my wetness, then moved that same hand to grip Spencer’s cock. At that first touch he let out a strangled sound that was almost a scream; my poor boy is so sensitive. I gave him a few pumps before I removed my hand.

“Miss, please.”

“You didn’t make me cum, Dr. Reid,” I said sweetly. “What makes you think you’ve earned my touch?” I moved my fingers back to my clit, rubbing slow circles, still so, so close. “Touch yourself.” He obeyed immediately, his eyes never leaving my fingers that were swirling around the place his mouth had just been. “I want you to touch yourself like you do when you’re at home in bed, Dr. Reid. Back when you still felt so guilty, but you just couldn’t help it…because I know you thought about me when you touched yourself long before Nebraska.”

His eyes shot up to meet mine; it was hard to tell if his flushed face got a little pinker in the dim light of the room. “You don’t need to deny it, baby.” My fingers started working faster. “I know. I’ve always known. So, I want you to touch yourself like you did back then. You can do that for me, right baby?”

Hand moving faster and faster now, he gave me another beautiful whimper, “yes Miss.”

“Good boy,” my finger’s slowed. “I said you could touch yourself. I never said you could cum. Stop, Spencer.” I could tell from his breathing that he was so close to the edge. “I said stop.” I reached out to grip his arm tightly, digging my nails into his skin.

Once he had released his cock, I took in his appearance. His stomach muscles kept tensing, his cock was leaking precum steadily now, his dick was an angry red, his teeth were digging into his bottom lip, and I could see the tears of frustration swimming in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” I cooed, leaning over to put my body above his again; I caressed his cheek softly. “What’s wrong?”

"I-I" the chatterbox that was Dr. Spencer Reid was finally speechless.

I lifted my hand off of his face only to bring it back down in a sharp slap. “I asked you a question, Dr. Reid.”

I saw the desperation in his eyes. I know baby, I know. We’re almost there.

“Please, miss,” his words were so quiet. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m yours.”

He deserved the world. This wonderful man deserved the entire world. “I believe you, Dr. Reid.” I leaned over him then, sealing my lips over his, my tongue stroking into his mouth softly. I felt his hands rise up towards my body only to stop just before they made contact.

He made my heart swell. I pulled my mouth away, looking down at him with an emotion I didn’t want to name shining from my eyes. “You’ve been such a good boy, baby.” I pushed the damp curls off of his forehead. “Such a good boy. I think you deserve something special.” I rose up on my knees, straddling his body again, my hand moving down to my pussy to spread myself open for his eyes. “What would you like more? Do you want me to put my pussy on your pretty face again? I’ll let you cum while you make me cum. I know how badly you need to taste me, Dr. Reid.” I bit my lip at how quickly he nodded his head. “Or, I can let you fuck my mouth. Hold onto my hair and fuck your pretty cock down my throat. Then I’ll let you watch me cum after.” I left a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Dr. Spencer Reid usually made decisions quickly; his mind worked so much quicker than everyone else, but he was struggling here. His eyes met mine, he looked so desperate and lost in a sea of his own desire.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.” I moved down his body then, trailing kisses down his stomach. I gripped his cock hard in my hand, causing him to moan so loudly I’m sure someone in the neighboring rooms heard him. “Fuck my face, Dr. Reid. I want to watch you come undone.”

Needing no further encouragement, his hands tangled in my hair, tugging the strands so hard it made my eyes water. I opened my mouth over him; he lifted his hips going far deeper into my mouth than he would have done normally. I relaxed my jaw, swallowing around the head of his cock. My eyes were watering too much to watch him, but I heard him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pulling my head down to meet his upward thrust. “You feel so fucking good, y/n. I’m gonna…” he let out a ragged breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he came apart. His groan was from deep in his chest and it sounded like my name as he filled my mouth. He slowed his thrusts, but I continued sucking. I needed him to feel every ounce of this.

When his hands finally dropped from my head, I released him. I wiped my eyes and I took him in. He looked so overwhelmed, shattered, and beautiful. I moved up the bed, lying beside him and wrapping him in my arms. I peppered his shoulder with kisses. “You did so good, Spencer,” I praised. “So, so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer turned, his hands cupping my jaw while he stared so deep in my eyes. What I saw swirling on the surface of those amber eyes made my heart stop.

“You didn’t cum.” His voice was scratchy.

“I know. It’s okay,” I reassured. “We can take a break. Or you can watch me cum now.” I kept stroking his hair, his body. “Whatever you want, Spencer.”

My core was still throbbing, the sight of his release only pulling me closer to the edge.

His lips lifted in a smirk. “Whatever I want?” he teased.

“Yes.”

He blinked once, then again. He didn’t know quite what to do with my confirmation; but I meant it, in this moment, I was willing to give Spencer Reid anything and everything.

“…Can I make you cum?” he searched my eyes for any sign of hesitation. “I…I want to finish. What I was doing earlier.”

My laugh bubbled out of me. “I just had your cock down my throat but now you can’t ask me if you can make me cum on your face?”

I was still laughing when he leaned forward to kiss me; both of his hand cupping my jaw. There was heat behind this kiss; it brought my simmering arousal back to a giant flame in my lower belly. Heat wasn’t all that was there though. I can’t think about that. I couldn’t dwell on what I felt, but I felt it with my entire soul.

Despite what we had just done, this felt different. The scene felt over, his powerful orgasm had shifted the mood in our little bubble. I wasn’t his Miss. He wasn’t my pretty, nervous boy. He was Spencer and I was y/n; and he wanted to make me feel good. He rose over me then, wasting no time on foreplay; he knew I didn’t need it.

He settled between my thighs, his hands wrapping around them, his fingers digging into my skin. With one final look at my face to make sure this was really okay, he put his mouth on me. My back arched and my mouth hung open in a silent scream. Spencer didn’t toy with me; he knew how close I was.

“Spencer, Spencer, fuck,” his eyes opened when my fingers tangled in his hair, my pussy grinding into his face. “I’m so close. Fuck.”

I was so lost I didn’t realize his hand had moved until I felt two fingers enter me, curling expertly. He pumped his fingers and wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking firmly. That was all it took for me to cum for him.

It all happened so quickly I didn’t have time to be scared. He was the first man to make me orgasm in longer than I wanted to admit. I knew the last time I let someone put their mouth on me. It had always felt like a deeply intimate act to me, I was always nervous to let anyone do it.

Spencer rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Why is that sexy?

He laid down beside me; I'm not sure who's arms wrapped around who first, but we were clinging to each other, both of us breathing hard.

“So,” I said, after clearing my throat. “What did you think?”

Spencer chuckled, the hot air of his breath puffing against my hair. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” I pulled back to look at his eyes.

“Mhm," was his response as he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on my lips before his mood shifted. "Y/n…I'm sorry I got so mad." He looked so embarrassed as he said it as if it wasn't the sweetest thing in the world that Spencer Reid would care about me like that. “I just…I saw him touching you and I just…” he dropped his gaze. “I know we didn’t talk about monogamy, but I thought- I was just so worrie-“

My finger pressed against his lips. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, Spencer.”

We fell asleep shortly after that. I couldn’t help but wonder if his thoughts felt anything like mine; the irony of it all was I was too afraid to ask.

Series tag list: @abschaffer2 @liaabsurd @brokenanxiety @thisiscalmandits-dr @less-intelligent-spencerreid @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @cielo1984 @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @101donuts @heyitssarahk @creepingfromthecorners @imjusthereformggcontent @fanfictionislifetho @annestine

Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool

#criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #Spencer reid #dr. Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid smut #reid smut #dr Spencer Reid smut #dr reid smut #criminal minds smut

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tbehartoo · 3 years

Text

Bursting Bubbles

My piece for @thedjwifizine that can be found here. It's full of great art and stories. Check it out!

...

Nino looked up into the scowling face of his favorite seatmate.

“Here you go, Bubbles,” she said as she thrust a mango bubble tea into his hand. “One special of the day from The Boba Bar.” Her other hand slapped a small card onto his sheet music. “And here’s your other three week’s worth of drinks.”

“Aw, Alya you didn’t have to do this,” he held up the card. “This,” he grinned as he took his first sip of the drink, “you definitely needed to do.”

“Well you won the bet fair and square,” Alya huffed as she plopped down into her seat. “You really could find a way to get a harpsichord to sound rockin' when you DJ’ed Kim’s house party.”

“Scoops, I’m surprised you could doubt me,” Nino held a hand to his heart. “It’s like you’ve forgotten that music is my life.” He grumbled toward the music piece he’d been assigned, “It’s not like I’ve spent nearly three grueling years learning this European centered musical theory or anything.” Looking at her smirk he added, “Or that I’d hardly be the first person to experiment with combining old instruments to new music.” He thought for a moment before adding, “Or old music to new instruments.”

The next week it was Nino placing a gift card on Alya’s notepad.

“Your payment for getting me those sources for my music history essay, m’lady,” he said as he bowed to her.

“Nino, what-” she asked as she looked at the card “-what is this?”

Nino felt his face warm up, but he sent a shy smile in her direction as he sat down. “You were saying, the other day, that it’s been forever since you had a mani-pedi, but that they weren’t in your budget at the moment so I figured I’d get one for you as thanks for saving my bacon. I didn’t have time to track down those translations of medieval manuscripts for that Music Development in the Dark Ages assignment, but you did it without my asking.” He grinned at her, “You really took some pressure off of me and I appreciate it.”

She looked at him, back at the card, and back at Nino.

“I don’t remember saying that,” she murmured.

“You were picking at your nails because the color was coming off and said that you’d need to see if Marinette was free for a girl’s night so you could get her to do your nails again,” he said as he started to root around in his bag.

“That was two- three weeks ago?” she said, thinking out loud. She looked at him, but he was obviously avoiding her gaze. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

His head tucked between his shoulders, a turtle pulling into its shell.

“It was easy to remember,” he said. “You had that sparkly red polish. It really drew in the eye. I remember thinking that you had the perfect hands for playing the piano right before you said it.” He quickly looked away again.

Alya was quiet for a moment before smiling up at him.

“That seems like a really nice compliment coming from a musician like yourself,” she reassured him. She looked back at the card. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this place.”

“It’s, uh, one of the local beautician schools,” he told her. “You were right about mani-pedis being a bit pricy, but my cousin is going there to learn to cut hair, and she said the girls in the nail class are crazy talented and eager to get someone not a relative to paint on, and it only costs about a fourth of what the pros charge.” He shrugged. “This way you can have like half a dozen manicures for the price of one.”

Alya lunged at him and caught him in a tight hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” she cried before releasing him. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Miss Cesaire, if you are quite done groping Mister Lahiffe I’d like to start the class,” the voice of Doctor Agreste cut through the lecture hall and every head snapped toward them.

Alya’s face was nearly as warm and red as his own.

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked as she pulled her arms back to her side.

“Now if we may?” the professor’s curt voice took control of the class.

“Groping,” Nino mumbled. “He calls one little hug groping.” He pulled out a composition that Madame Mendeleiev had assigned just that morning. “I’d like to show him groping.”

He was startled out of his grumbling when Alya whispered, “Me, too.”

Only three more weeks and I’m out of this class and I never have to see this man’s stupid face again, Nino thought to himself. At least after today it’s just student presentations before the final.

They had finally reached the Contemporary Era and the man was butchering even the easiest movements! And don’t get him started on the composers. He’d wasted over half the lecture trying to explain that Richard Wagner wasn’t really an antisemite, but that Nazi sympathizers, mainly Adolf himself, just liked his music so much and thought it expressed National Ideals perfectly! The man wasn’t even a composer in Contemporary times!

And that just served to take time away from some real pioneers of the era like Laura Anne Karpman whose music can be found literally anywhere. Or what about Meredith Monk who includes operas amongst her compositions, since Doctor Agreste seemed to be hung up over Wagner’s damn Ring Cycle. Of course he didn’t mention Yihan Chen the brilliant Chinese pianist and composer. And though the man would fawn and dote on child prodigies like Wolfgang Mozart all day, he wouldn’t give the time of day to “Bluejay” Greenberg who could hear several compositions in his head at the same time and then be able to write them with minimal correction.

Just, UGH!

Nino was done with this entitled little man and the racist ideology he’s attempting to spread about. He was certainly spreading something, but it smelled more like fertilizer than anything else to Nino’s mind.

He could tell that Alya was concerned about his agitation, he’d been clenching his pencil so hard he heard it crack, but he refused to look in her direction. She had a great talent for sniffing out these kinds of things and if he looked at her right now, he’d probably see his frustration reflected on her face and do something dumb- like start an uprising in the middle of class. He really couldn't afford to take this class again.

As soon as they were out the doors Alya started ranting about how it was obvious that Doctor Agreste didn’t even bother to check Wikipedia for sources. She made her opinion known that the good doctor didn’t like the era because more people were included in writing and performing it rather than just white, Western-European men who were either wealthy or had wealthy patrons. And stopped mid rant.

Nino looked at her and watched as Alya got an idea. By the look on her face it was a genius idea: an Evil and Genius idea if the cackle was anything to go by.

“Whatever you’re planning, I’m in,” he declared.

“I haven’t even told you my idea yet.”

“I can tell by your expression alone that it’s going to be the best idea ever,” he said with a smirk. “So want to let me in on our plan?”

She explained her idea and Nino’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, that man is going to regret crossing paths with us,” he chuckled. “Can you come over tonight? I’ve got plenty of stuff we’d need for the music portion of the presentation.”

She shook her head. “I need at least one day to fact-check my notes and another to find accurate sources. Are you busy Saturday?”

Nino thought for a moment. “I’m free in the morning, but I have a wedding I’m playing for in the evening.”

“Okay that gives me a little more time for research.” She smiled up at him. “So, Saturday morning we’ll meet up to pull things together?”

Nino nodded in agreement.

“Great,” she said, “That’ll give us Sunday to type up the report and Monday to practice for our presentation on Tuesday.”

“Tell me the truth, Alya,” Nino looked at her, “Is this too much? Are we crazy to put together a spite presentation in one weekend? At the end of the semester?” He brushed a bit of her hair out of her face and tucked it carefully behind her ear. “You already have so much to do for all your other classes. I don’t want this to be something that stresses you out or makes you do something that hurts you.”

Alya reached up and patted his cheek before replying.

“Nino this is going to be so much fun that I doubt I’ll even notice how much work it is,” she grinned at him fully. “I might pull an allnighter here or there, but I promise you that I’m taking care to not do too much. I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think we could do it.”

He held her gaze for a moment then sighed.

“Okay, let’s ruin this man’s whole career.”

She laughed loud and pulled him toward the school’s cafe. Obviously this called for copious amounts of snacks and his precious bubble tea.

Tuesday dawned bright and clear. A perfect day to teach about the subtleties of Contemporary music while simultaneously displaying the ignorance and prejudice of the most hated music teacher on campus. Nino sipped at his Thai tea with coffee pudding as he contemplated Alya’s plan of attack. It was a nice simple plan, but it needed something. Seeing a familiar outline hurrying across campus brought a smile to his face. The final nail in Doctor Agreste’s coffin just made itself known. He hurried across the quad to see if he could catch up with Madame before she reached her office.

An hour later he stood at the podium inserting the thumb drive into the computer for the projector.

“Good morning everyone,” Alya began. “As you all know we’ve had to jump over and through many musical ages and movements. That meant we had to skim through a lot of really interesting information. Nino and I decided to do a little bit of music through the ages for the Contemporary Era for you all. Now, get ready to get funky!”

That was his cue. He started the Powerpoint and Richard Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” began to blast from the room’s speakers while Elmer Fudd stabbed a spear into the ground singing, “Kill the wabbit! Kill the wabbit!”

“Welcome to Neoromanticism,” he called to those present.

The presentation went off without a hitch. Madame Mendeleiev had managed to slip in before their presentation and had stayed to the end of class. It was with great delight that Nino watched the Dean of the Music Department approach Doctor Agreste and congratulate him on the quality of his students’ final presentations. She even approached Alya and complemented her on the amount of research she’d done to be ready for the day. Then she turned to him.

“An adequate presentation, Nino,” she said with no trace of humor in her words. “Your compilation was a little heavy on the electronic music and light on the serialism, but I suppose that’s only to be expected with where your interests lie,” she paused, “and in light of the time constraints.”

He gulped and nodded his head. He knew she’d pick up on that.

“Please, send me a copy of your presentation at your earliest convenience.”

His eyes snapped up from the floor to meet hers. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the slight upturn to the corners of her mouth or not, so he chose not to comment on it.

“I think I might incorporate it into my opening lecture next semester,” she remarked so offhandedly that Nino was sure he was hearing things. “It’ll be an excellent introduction to modern music for the freshmen.” She nodded to him before moving off to catch professor Agreste on his way out the door.

Alya was grinning from ear to ear and practically vibrating where she stood. He turned to her and had a fraction of a second to brace for impact as she’d thrown herself in his direction. Her arms were around his waist as she pulled him into a hug. He returned the hug with matching enthusiasm.

“We did so good!” she squealed.

He looked down into her grinning face and returned the smile.

“Hell yeah, we did,” he replied. “This calls for a celebration.” It was only then that he realized he still had his arms around her shoulders. Then again she was still holding on to him. He pulled back but kept hold of her hands. “I know you have another class in an hour, but do you want to go get boba to celebrate?”

She smirked up at him. “Only if you’ll let me treat you to dinner at Sabine’s tonight.” She looked to the side as she added, “And then we could go check out that concert in the park you mentioned yesterday.”

His mouth suddenly went dry. That sounded a lot like an actual date. Like a real date with this girl he knew he’d started crushing on some time this semester. What else could he do?

“Sounds great, but you have to let me bring pizza and dessert to our study date on Thursday night.”

Her laugh sent a tingle down his spine. “It’s a date!”

#miraculous ladybug #djwifi #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #alya x nino #thedjwifizine #my writing

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prime-pulse · 3 years

Note

Westwood Village looks really interesting! If you’re okay with it, what’s the basic plot, or who are the main characters? What does the player character do, who are they?

WAAA thank you!!! I’ll put the main characters (so far, I have about 4 more in the works I haven’t drawn/named yet) beneath a read more because theres quite a few, but I’ll give a basic plot synopsis!!

You are from the bustling trading city of Woodlock Roe, a city situated on the rocky shores and mountains of the Sundering Abyss Sea. Convicted of a crime you did— or didn’t— commit, you have been exiled from the city and sent into the vast Abyssal Forest; essentially a death sentence without being officially stated as one.

Fighting you way through the forest, facing creatures you have only heard of in legends and from the mouths of drunk mercenaries, clinging onto the sliver of life you have left— you are saved by a young hunter, who brings you back to his village within the woods, a village you had never heard of until that moment, Westwood Village.

The game would center around you deciding the fate of Westwood Village, most being exiled, or the children of exiled individuals, also from Woodlock Roe. Dark forces seek to destroy the village, the only thing keeping them from targeting Woodlock Roe for reasons you don’t know— it is up to you if you let them, help them, or stop them. You’d be able to form relationships with any of the townsfolk (hence them all being listed as main characters despite only a certain number of individuals coming to your aid depending on your relationship with them), romantic or platonic, through their own mini-arcs between main plot "chapters"! The game would be an adventure/horror game with some RPG elements, largely impacted by how you treat the characters around you.

Viktor Marley | He/They/It | A young hunter who comes to your aid when you need it most. He runs the local butcher and tanning shop, and usually prefers to keep to himself and hide away in his shack outside the village. He wears a sack over his head, and almost never has any skin revealed.

Nau Beau | They/He/She | A clown who is one of the ex-mayor's sons, preforming every afternoon and every night for the citizens of Westwood Village— throwing fire and jumping through hoops, theres virtually nothing they can’t do! They’re sarcastic and prone to making jokes with an up-beat attitude in costume, however out of costume, they tend to be a bit irritable and cranky— of course, still with their charming wit and sarcasm. They have a niche interest in taxidermy when out of costume, and work hand-in-hand with Viktor to produce life-like taxidermy for the school and doctor in town.

Thatch "Jameson" Beau | He/Him | Son of the ex-mayor, he has lived a lavish life in one of the more well-build houses in the village. He often spends his days at the local inn-tavern, trying to woo visiting mercenaries with his untruthful stories of heroism and adventure. He’s often found squabbling with his sibling when they’re not drinking together, or helping the current mayor keep the town in check. There’s always a glint of caution in his eye.

Matir Rook | It/They/He | It goes into the mountains twice monthly and brings back freshly carved ice for everyone in the village. It does not speak, and instead communicates either through grunts, sign, or paper and ink. Often times, when looking for it, you can’t find it— but sometimes, when you aren’t, it finds you. It can often be found, when not working, at the schoolhouse helping ambitious children climb trees.

Mayor Rheikan Flora | He/She | Having been working tirelessly and nearly thanklessly for the last decade trying to contact Woodlock Roe and keep the village in order, Mayor Flora stands as the only person of government within the village. He is in charge of ruling all squabbles, approving all building plans, approving all marriages— it’s hard work. He’s often found in the mayor's office (his home); except for when it rains. When it rains, he’s often found wandering the streets under his umbrella, cigar in shaky hand.

Dreidiel Malchester | He/They | A priest rather open about being exiled from Woodlock Roe for scamming the government out of tens of thousands, Dreidiel is mainly in charge of officiating weddings and blessing the village bi-weekly to keep whatever lurks outside of it at bay. Having no sermons, or church— not that he ever took that life seriously— he's often found watching one of Nau's performances, helping out at the local school, or being kicked out of the mayor's home for trying to proposition yet another faulty business within the village. He’s never seen without a smile.

Unnamed | She/They | Running the local clinic of Westwood is a hard job, one ran without smiles or patience. It’s a dangerous place to live, and there’s always someone hurt— ??? is the doctor of the village; she's stern and sarcastic, but in a way that makes your heart warm. She may chew you out while bandaging your leg for the third time this week, but she always finishes the wrapping with a bow. Her arms are almost always folded, and you can see the muscle definition from whatever life she lived before.

Unnamed | She/Her | The local tailor of the village, ??? makes sure everyone is walking around in something not sore to the eye. She works with Viktor in obtaining furs, leather, or wool for her work, farming cotton herself on her property above the village. Her prices are always affordable, even for the most beautiful garment, because she prefers everyone look presentable and her be modest than only a few look stunning and she be rich. She’s almost always fidgeting with something in her hands.

Unnamed | They/Them | ??? is the village school teacher, mild-mannered and polite with a bit of a temper. They work well with keeping the children well-behaved and safe in the village, teaching them all they’ll need to know and much more. When school's out, they’re often found at the local inn-tavern with a drink while grading papers, or they’re found by the river studying the local wildlife. Their arms are covered in tattoos resembling serpents, tracking up all the way to their neck.

Unnamed | She/It | i have nothing written on her yet but she’s in charge of the inn-tavern

#Westwood Village #Asks #Not art #Oh god tagging everyone is going to drive me nuts #OC: Viktor Marley #OC: Nau Beau #OC: Thatch Jameson Beau #OC: Matir Rook #OC: Dreidiel Malchester #OC: doctor lady #OC: Tailor lady #OC: school teacher babe #OC: Mayor Flora

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

the three of us (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: the three of us Rating: PG-13 Length: Warnings: discussions of pregnancy planning, angst, heartache Notes: this chapter made my heart hurt. Set in 1996. You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Summary: Javier and Reader have not had the success they hoped for.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim

Maybe Josie had been a fluke.

Your doctor had given you a full bill of health — both times you visited the doctor. There was no reason for why nothing had taken hold. Five months. Four negative tests. Four periods. Even Javier had visited the doctor, just to make sure his swimmers were in working order. They were. Everything was right and yet…

You swallowed thickly as you pushed the bathroom door open, eyes lowered to the floor as you shook your head. Another unsuccessful month had slipped by.

“C’mere.” Javier murmured, holding his hand out and gesturing for you to join him at the foot of the bed. “It’ll happen.” He reassured you.

“Yeah.” You almost wished you hadn’t decided you were ready to try. To actually plan on having another kid.

Javier curled his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side. “It’s okay baby.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I just thought that this time…” You shifted, laying back on the bed and bringing him down with you. You stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed. “I was two days late and I was certain.”

“I know.” He slid his arm out from under you, rolling onto his side. You could feel his eyes on your face, “Hey.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes. “Hmm?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s neither of our faults.” You said a little quickly. You were both healthy, but you were the one that wasn’t pregnant. You had been so certain this time around. For a fleeting few days you had felt different. Maybe you had been, maybe it ended before it even began.

“We’ll just keep trying.” Javier draped his arm over your middle, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “If you want to.”

“I do.” You sighed heavily. “I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be.” Your eyes drifted back up to the ceiling. Josie had been easy — one night was all it took to give life to a beautiful baby girl. Sure, it had been sheer hell, but she had been easy.

This time, you were actually trying and nothing was working.

“I’ll go back over the calendars the doctor gave us. Maybe we’re off by a day.” You scrubbed your hands over your face, before you looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you haven’t got a damn thing to apologize for.” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of your cheekbone. “And as much as it pains me to leave you right now…”

“Get to work, Professor.” You teased, trying to put on the emotions you would rather be feeling. You were depressed. But you didn’t want to ruin his first day back in the job force.

“I am just a teacher.” Javier countered, “And it’s just orientation.”

You curled your fingers around his tie, pulling him in closer so you could kiss him. “But Professor sounds sexy.”

Javier bumped his nose against yours. “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you going in today?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Probably. It would be a nice distraction.” You forced yourself to smile. You needed the distraction, otherwise you’d spend the day in sweatpants with a bottle of wine trying to forget your inadequacies.

“I’ll pick up dinner on the way home so you won’t have to worry.” Javier told you as he pulled back, straightening his tie. “Pizza?”

“Sounds nice.” You nodded, peeling yourself off the bed. “Good luck today, Javi.”

“Thanks baby.” He murmured and you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the bed room to get ready for work. You knew he was hurting too — maybe not the same way as you were. But he wanted this baby as badly as you did. Each month that slipped by killed you. At one point in your life you had prayed for a negative test, but now it was all you saw.

——

Your 1 PM meeting took you by surprise. Not the meeting itself; but the person leaving the meeting ahead of yours.

“Lance Collier.” You remarked, stopping dead in your tracks. “What are you doing here.”

He held his hand out to shake yours, “Working with the local law enforcement on a case. How the hell have you been?”

“I actually have a meeting.” You glanced at your wristwatch. “It’ll be about forty five minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Great.” Lance nodded. “Hope they don’t bore you to death.”

“Chances are slim.” You quipped, before you headed into the conference room. He certainly was a welcome distraction from the thoughts weighing on your mind. And one of the last people you expected to see from your time in Colombia. Second maybe only to Chris.

——

It was surreal to have Lance Collier standing in your little office with an obscured view of Dodge Island. The last time you had seen him was the night you broke up with him and promised to call him in a week or two. You hadn’t.

“Niece?” Lance questioned, nodding to a picture of Josie you had framed on your desk.

“Daughter.”

His brows shot upwards, “Wow. When did that happen?” You couldn’t exactly blame him for being surprised. He’d actually mentioned having kids with you when you dated and you had been pretty against the idea. You had a whole career you were building.

“She was born in ‘93.”

“And who’s the lucky father?”

You arched a brow, “Would you believe me if I told you I’m with Javier.” You turned one of the pictures on your desk towards him — a family shot Connie had taken for you in their backyard at Easter. Josie was clutching a stuffed rabbit, nestled in between you and Javier.

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Peña? What the hell did I miss after I left Colombia? I figured you must’ve moved on — you never called.”

You grimaced. “It didn’t feel fair to string you along, Lance. It’s not like I moved on to Javi right after we broke up. Far from it, actually. I just wasn’t—“

“There’s no hard feelings.” Lance cut you off. “I’m getting married next month.”

“Oh, wow! Congratulations.” You smiled at him. ”So what has the CIA poking around here?”

“Clearing up soon loose ends from Medellín. We received intel that La Oficina de Envigado was laundering money out of Miami. Due diligence, really.” He lowered his voice, pointing at Josie’s pictures. “Is she why you’re persona non grata with DEA? I was down at the embassy a year ago and—“ He whistled as he shook his head. “They’re not fond of you.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Javi and I lied about our relationship for a year. I was already on thin ice for being pregnant and…” You made a face. “Straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Jeeze, I’m sorry.” He gestured around the office. “But check this place out.”

You laughed. “Yeah, who knew Miami had the budget to give consultants offices with windows?”

Lance shook his head, staring at the family picture on your desk. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but… I just can’t picture Peña as a father.”

“He’s amazing.” You told him, your eyes drawn to the picture. “Josie is a complete daddy’s girl.” You glanced back at Lance then, “What do you mean you’re not surprised?”

He gave you a look. “Do you remember the first time you brought me along to drinks with him and Steve?” You nodded. “I realized pretty quickly that night that he was my competition.”

“Really?” Your brows furrowed together. “I just remember him being a dick that night.” Then again, he always got pissy whenever Lance turned up with you.

He was going to lose his shit knowing that Lance was in town.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Lance told you with a genuine smile. “That’s all I wanted for you.”

“Thank you.” You sank back in your seat, “I mean, look at us. You’re getting married next month and I’ve got a family.”

“With Javier Peña no less.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Right? I’m still waiting for the pigs to fly.”

“Any wedding bells in your future?”

“Not our thing.” You shook your head, “But we’re good. He’s started teaching a criminal justice course at the university. I’ve got this.” You gestured to your office. “Life is good. Miami was the right move for us.”

Lance pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. “You deserve it.” He glanced towards your office door, “I should probably get going. I’ve got a deposition to sit in on later.”

“It was good to see you Lance.” You offered with a warm smile, watching him leave. Once upon a time you probably would’ve settled for him. But there was nothing about Lance that made your heart skip a beat — even back then. That would’ve been an easy path. Everything with Javier had been difficult. It still was difficult.

But all that difficulty made the quiet moments worth it. The uphill battle was justified every time Josie roped Javier into wearing a princess crown and attending tea at her make believe restaurant.

You couldn’t imagine a life where you didn’t have both of them. And maybe it was okay that you weren’t having any luck. Maybe it was meant to be just the three of you.

———

“I don’t know why we bother trying to expand her dietary options,” You remarked as you picked a piece of cut up pizza off her abandoned plate as you took it to the trash to throw away. “She’s always going to just want chicken nuggets.”

“In futile hope that she’ll kick her chicken addiction.” Javier remarked from the living room, where he was fastforwarding through the trailers on the VHS he’d rented. Four Weddings and a Funeral seemed like the right kind of movie to unwind to.

You grabbed two beers out of the fridge, gripping them in one hand as you snatched up the pizza box off the counter and headed into the living room to join him. “I wish it were that easy. I think she’s hooked, Javi. Our baby’s a chicken addict.”

Javier looked back at you over his shoulder, a grin spreading over his lips. “Guess there’s worse things she could be hooked on.” He settled down onto the sofa, loosening his tie. “I’ve got a full class. I guess everyone wants to meet the guy who helped bring down Pablo Escobar.” He swept his fingers through his hair, before taking a beer from you.

“They’re going to love you.” You said as you took a swig of beer before sitting it down on the coffee table. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”

“Who?” His brows drew together.

“Lance.”

Javier huffed, “Really?”

You nodded, leaning back on the sofa. “He’s still chasing down money launders from Escobar’s predecessors.” You explained. “Still a CIA suit.”

Javier gave you a wary look, before he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza. “That’s good.” He said before taking a bite.

You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip, heart pounding a little quicker as you stared at him. “Are you going to be an asshole about this?”

“No.”

“Our entire conversation basically revolved around you.” You told him, lips drawn into a faint smile. “It was a nice distraction from everything else.”

Javier grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “I’m not going to be an asshole about this, but I just never liked the guy.”

“I know.” You reached out and stroked his cheek, before sliding your fingers into his hair. “He wasn’t surprised that I was with you.”

His jaw rocked tensely before he relaxed under your touch. “What? Did he tell you about the time I pulled him aside and told him he better take care of you?” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth.

You shook your head and tilted your face to look up at him. “When did you—“

“You had just started seeing him.”

“Well, that explains everything.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You could easily picture Javier pulling that shit. He had been in fine form that evening from the second that Lance sat down at the table. It was a miracle it hadn’t run the poor man off then and there. You had a sneaking suspicion that he had said a lot more than just ‘take care of her’. Everything had been so new back then — Colombia, Javier and Steve, your outlook on the future. Maybe things didn’t turn out how you had planned, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes, pulling you in close to his side. “Is he going to be around for awhile?” He questioned as he picked up the remote with his free hand, loosely holding onto it.

“I didn’t ask, but probably not.” You reached out and took the remote out of his hand, sitting it aside. “We should talk about this morning.

He exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’d planned for us to talk about everything but that.”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you interlaced your fingers with his. “I know.” You swallowed thickly. “It’s not bad… it’s just—” You squeezed his hand tightly. “I think we should try for another month and then I think it’s time to accept that it’s just the three of us.”

Javier lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “The three of us are perfect, baby.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, sinking into his side feeling defeated. You wished you could make it happen. That tomorrow you’d magically wake up pregnant. The thought of both of you being able to enjoy this from the start seemed like a vain wish now. “Are you excited to start teaching?”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, “I met a couple of the students this afternoon and they seem keen. We’ll see.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “They even gave me an office with a window.”

“We both ended up with windows,” You mused.

Javier chuckled. “I wanna bring you and Josie by later this week so you can see it.”

“That reminds me.” You squeezed his hand before you got up off the sofa. You headed down the hallway to the bedroom to get the gift you’d wrapped and hidden on your side of the closet. You returned, holding it out to him. “I meant to give this to you this morning, but…”

Javier took the parcel from you, unwrapping it slowly. “Baby, you shouldn’t have.”

You had taken the negatives of the photos from Colombia and had duplicates made to be framed. Four photos that captured so many memories from that era of your lives. Josie resting on Javier’s chest, both of them fast asleep a few days after you had brought her home; you and Javier kissing, a slightly blurry photo you’d relied on the timer for; Josie’s first bath; and a photo of the three of you when Josie was still so tiny.

“I thought you might like taking us to work with you.” You smiled at him as you settled down onto the sofa beside him.

“Maybe we should stop now.” Javier suggested as he looked up at you. “I hate how much this is stressing you out, baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Maybe we can just try to see if it’ll happen naturally.” You still weren’t ready to call it quits. Not entirely.

He nodded his head, staring down at the frame. “We’re good as three, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You leaned into his side. Part of you regretted that you had started this whole endeavor. You had thought it would be easy, free of heartache. But you had been wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was the planning and the stress that was causing it to fail.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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tact-and-impulse · 4 years

Text

Basically, since I saw the novel translation that Akane meets with Kougami’s mom, my mind ran wild with speculation. Spoilers for up to First Inspector.

Stouthearted

Tomoyo is accustomed to living alone. Wake up, brush her teeth, have breakfast, check the news offered by her AI secretary.

The golden starfish cheerfully spins as it announces her Hue. “Mint green!”

“Thank you, Hoshiko.” She finishes her coffee, the bottom of the cup sweeter than the rest. She has a lengthy schedule for the weekend but just before she can bring it up, there’s a knock at her door, loud enough to scare Hoshiko into vanishing.

She fastens her bathrobe and runs a hand through her unruly hair. No one’s visited her in a long time. Uncertain and cautious, she only opens the door a crack, enough to see who this stranger is. “Hello?”

“Good morning!” Her visitor is a young woman, whose face is briefly obscured when she bows in greeting. Behind her, a storage drone patiently waits. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Inspector Tsunemori, from the Public Safety Bureau.” She holds up her ID in confirmation. “Are you Kougami Tomoyo-san?”

“Yes…please, come in.” Tomoyo pulls the door further. It’s best that whatever conversation will follow, it should happen inside.

“Ah, just a moment.” Tsunemori unlocks the drone and removes a box from the metal interior, almost too big for her to carry.

“Do you need help?”

“N-no, I’ve got it.” She sets it down and sighs with relief as Tomoyo closes the door.

“I know who you are.”

“Eh?”

“Well, a little.” She concedes. “Shinya called me now and then, and your name came up often. He said you were a good boss.”

It’s comforting to put a face to the name, and she does look young, but tragedy colors a person in a specific, indelible way. Tomoyo recognizes it as Tsunemori’s gaze clouds over. Her answer is strained. “Not as good as I would have liked to be.”

An awkward pause follows, before Tomoyo offers. “I was finishing breakfast. Would you like anything?” Even as she asks, she heads into the kitchen and grabs a cup.

“I don’t want to bother you-”

“No, not at all. It’s been a while since I’ve had a guest, so I apologize for the clutter. Tea? Coffee?”

Tsunemori gives a little smile. “Coffee, please. And I don’t mind, my apartment is far from organized. Oh.”

“What is it?”

“I just realized I might have made things worse for you. Um, the box has books and clothes. Personal items. Not the dishes though, the Bureau took them for reuse. Anyway, I thought, since you’re his mother, you would like his things.” The girl is very nervous, stumbling over her words, but she doesn’t break eye contact. It reassures Tomoyo.

“I would. Thank you very much.” She softly replies. “For now, unpacking can wait. Have a seat.”

They sit across from one another, Tomoyo having refilled her own cup halfway. She’s unsure of what to discuss; there must be protocol to adhere to, and she doesn’t want to make things more difficult for Tsunemori.

Thankfully, Tsunemori speaks first. “I’m sorry, if I interrupted any plans.”

“Nothing urgent. When you live alone for a long time, plans become flexible. I should be the one apologizing, if you’re on the clock.”

“No, it’s okay. I haven’t taken time off before, and this had to be done.”

Hm. She decides Tsunemori isn’t bad.

They sort through the box together. Tomoyo doesn’t recognize most of the books, the titles unfamiliar. The clothes also seem foreign, tinged with bitter cigarette smoke. She never did approve of that habit, and she frowns as she piles the different articles around her. And yet…underneath the acrid smell, it still smells like her boy.

One of the bulkier items is a fur-lined coat, something for the winter months. She sees the way the girl’s fingertips brush over the collar, how her eyes become weighted with melancholy.

“You can keep it.”

“Eh?” Tsunemori looks up at her, startled.

“I can’t keep everything in my place, and besides, you were his boss. Thank you for looking after my son.”

Tsunemori murmurs a half-hearted protest, but she folds the jacket in her lap. It goes with her when she leaves, and Tomoyo assumes that’s the end.

***

But it isn’t. Tsunemori continues to visit, every month or so. Each time is fairly short, enough to drink tea or coffee together. She’s a sweet young lady, unfailingly polite and conversational. They talk about nonconsequential things. The weather, novels, cooking tips. The latter proves to be a bountiful topic, since Tsunemori is inexperienced.

Once, Tomoyo asks about her work. She’s curious if anything’s changed since Shinya was an Inspector. It really hasn’t, and it doesn’t surprise Tomoyo, yet she can’t help but feel disappointed.

In turn, she describes a little of her job, that she analyzes data sent from the local hospital. The majority of her work is remote. She does not share why, though she’s certain Tsunemori can guess. Although the Sybil System can insist it only punishes criminals, family inevitably suffers too. They are carriers of some insidious factor or ticking bombs of the same defective nature but with longer fuses.

Tsunemori also doesn’t ask, though she receives an interrupting message. “Something just came up. I’ll see you later…Kougami-san.” It’s not the first time she’s hesitated addressing Tomoyo.

“Please, ‘Tomoyo-san’ is fine.”

She visibly relaxes. “Then, you can use my name too. It’s Akane.”

“Akane-chan it is.” And for the first time in a while, her smile feels natural.

***

On a rare night, she wakes up crying.

Hoshiko, dimmer in night mode, hovers over her. “Your Hue is Aquamarine. Would you like mental care?”

“This is my mental care. Tears are like stagnant water; sometimes, they need to flow out to feel better.” Satoru told her that once. She couldn’t remember where he read it from, but in moments like now, she could easily recall his voice. “And tears tire me out, I’ll go to sleep soon.” She forcibly shuts the AI down and dabs at her swollen eyes.

It takes an hour, but she does fall asleep again. In the morning, she dusts Shinya’s old room.

***

On her visits, Akane offers to help around the house, but she insists that the younger woman sit and relax.

“It’s enough that you keep an old lady like me company.”

“You’re not so old, Tomoyo-san.”

She gives Akane a flat stare. “But you must have friends your age, or a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

“I do have friends, we meet up sometimes. As for a boyfriend, I’m too busy for one.” She pauses. “I hope your husband doesn’t mind me intruding.”

She’s perplexed for a moment before she remembers the steel band on her finger. “Oh, this isn’t a wedding ring.” Out of habit, she gives it a twist. “It’s an old gift from Shinya’s father, Satoru. We grew up on the same street, although he was ahead of me by two years. He helped me in my literature classes. Shinya has his father’s scholarliness. Always reading, always thinking inward.” She remembers glancing up from her essays, light pouring from her childhood bedroom window, to steal looks at Satoru’s thoughtful profile.

“It sounds like you still think highly of him.” Akane carefully says.

“I always will. When I was young, they had just introduced the compatibility matches. Satoru and I were a good match, but he had a better one with someone else. A rich girl, in the city across the lake. He left by boat to speak to the family in person, to explain that he couldn’t accept, but there was a bad storm. He drowned.”

There had been an investigation, a pair of detectives who had questioned her. In hindsight, they were very kind to her, but she was aggravated and terse and though she didn’t know it at the time, hormonal.

“You must have been very upset.” Akane softly says.

“My Psycho-Pass was…volatile. Crime Coefficients were not available then, and I’m not sure what mine would have been. But after I found out I was pregnant, I committed myself to living for the child.”

Her son was born in the dark, cold, early time before sunrise. Towards the end of her labor, she had been so exhausted, it took effort to breathe. Her eyelids felt weighted when the doctor urged her to see her baby. One look upon Shinya’s squalling little face, and she was no longer tired.

“My parents helped before they passed. Satoru’s family had pushed him to accept the other woman, so we weren’t close. But they sent money to Shinya, at least until he was an adult.” They cut off ties completely after his Hue clouded. “And now, he has no one, wherever he is.”

Tsunemori’s expression is troubled, but she doesn’t speak.

It’s been one year since her son vanished into the outside world. She wonders if he’s eating enough.

***

She dreams of traversing her high school’s corridors. She doesn’t know why she’s here. The faces of long-gone teachers and classmates blur around her. She has to leave, she can’t stay, though she doesn’t know why. She decides that it’s because Satoru isn’t here. The hallways seem so much longer, and the stairs widen at an exaggerated angle. Other students crowd around her, and it’s agonizing to finally reach the exit at the ground floor.

She opens the door, and runs headlong into the rehabilitation facility’s visiting area, almost colliding against the glass screen that separates her from her boy. Shinya’s in white robes, his face gaunt and unshaven. When he looks up at her, his eyes are shadowed from lack of sleep. His darkened Hue floats above his head, and she relives this memory, the dread of learning her son’s become a latent criminal.

He smiles at her in recognition, but it quickly turns bitter. “Sorry, Mama.”

***

“Your Hue is very clear. That’s quite surprising. Most parents in your situation fare worse.” Her therapist marvels.

“I do what I can. I get by.”

“Well, I think you can excel in group therapy.” A short explanation follows. “The advantages are well-documented. I believe you’d be a good addition. You can take your time to think it over.”

She’s given a pamphlet, which she pockets and leaves on her kitchen table. It stays there while she’s eating. This time last year, she would have thrown it away by now. She’s been self-sufficient for so long, it’s become her gut instinct to reject anything that disrupted her carefully crafted solitude. However…Akane’s presence has reminded her it could be pleasant to talk to other people. Healing.

She’ll go once, and then she can reevaluate if she needs to. After dinner, she has Hoshiko add group therapy to her schedule.

***

“You smell like cigarettes.” Tomoyo points out. “Have you picked up smoking?”

“Not exactly.” Akane looks embarrassed. “I just light them and leave them on an ashtray.”

“Secondhand smoke is still dangerous.”

“It isn’t too often. Only to help me think.” The connection to Shinya is blatantly obvious. Not for the first time, Tomoyo wonders what their relationship was. From what she recalled, Shinya had thought well of Akane; he had said she had an optimistic perspective and a detective’s instincts. Once, he mentioned she was kind. That was high praise from him. Tomoyo couldn’t forget it.

“I didn’t like it when Shinya started and I still don’t.” She bluntly says. “But as long as you’re careful, I won’t say any more.”

Akane nods. It’s not a promise to quit.

***

There’s a period of time when Akane doesn’t visit for three months. When she finally knocks on Tomoyo’s door, she’s welcomed with open arms.

“How are you doing, Akane-chan? I assumed your work was keeping you busy.”

“It was.” She stares blankly for a moment, before she crumples and begins to cry.

Immediately, Tomoyo helps her in and sits her down in the nearest chair. She grabs a tissue box and pushes it toward Akane, as she murmurs. “There, there. Take your time.”

Eventually, after a handful of wadded tissues, she’s able to speak. “…My grandmother passed away.”

“I’m sorry. You said you were close to her.”

She nods. “It was…very sudden.”

“Have you had mental care?”

“I have. My Hue’s alright. It still feels difficult though.” She looks so young, and Tomoyo remembers she’s only twenty-two.

“It might feel that way for a while, but it should pass. Your grandmother wouldn’t want you to suffer for her sake.” She reassures. She brings tea and water and crackers, while Akane recovers herself.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Any time.”

Before Akane leaves, she seems pensive, in the way a question is brewing in her mind. But she doesn’t, only reiterating her gratitude. Tomoyo suspects she was going to inquire about how she copes. In truth, she doesn’t have a definitive mechanism. Maybe, she’s just accustomed to carrying the pain, so tightly embedded in her Hue that not even Sybil can filter it out.

***

“Even artificial flowers brighten up the place, hm?” Tomoyo says out loud, as she arranges a vivid bouquet in a vase. There is no reply from the porch. Sae stares emptily into the distance, the wind ruffling her hair.

Now that Nobuchika-kun’s become an Enforcer, he reluctantly requested that should she happen to be near Okinawa, that Tomoyo visit his mother. “She always seems a little better after she’s had company.”

Tomoyo wasn’t confident, but she wasn’t in a position to judge and she trusts Nobuchika-kun. Her work had no issue with extending her trip by a day, since it was for mental care. Well, she never said who it was for, but as long as it was to help someone else, she had no qualms about bending the truth.

Satisfied with her work, she steps out into the fresh air. She adjusts the blanket over the woman’s lap, though it’s hard to tell if she’s comfortable. A set of beautifully crafted chimes sways and emits a haunting melody. Sae doesn’t react, and Tomoyo feels an irrational anger. They’re not alike at all. She could never imagine being in such a state, she’d rather be dead. But it wasn’t Sae’s fault either. The other woman never asked to be like this, not her or the other eustress victims.

Tomoyo sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good companion. But…we do have something in common. We’re among the countless women in history who were left behind by the men we love.” Akane’s face also pops into her mind.

Movement in her peripheral vision draws her attention. Sae’s lips purse, as if she’s about to speak. But her expression relaxes again into a blank slate.

Her hands itch with the need to do something useful, so Tomoyo takes hold of Sae’s wheelchair. “Let’s go for a stroll. The weather’s so nice, isn’t it?”

At the end of the day, she tucks Sae into bed. The woman falls asleep almost instantly, like a child. Tomoyo leaves her be, with the drones to care for her.

***

“I met him in Shamballa.”

Tomoyo’s throat goes dry, as emotion floods over her. “How is he?”

Akane smiles. “He’s well. He’s alive and intact, the last time I saw him. He’s on the move, helping people. I told him I visit you, and he said thank you. And that you never show any weakness.”

Shinya’s alive. Four long years, and finally, she has something to hold onto. “As long as he’s still breathing, that’s enough for me.”

“I thought you would say that.” Her good humor slips. “I wasn’t able to bring him back though.”

She reaches out, to reassuringly pat Akane’s back. “To be honest with you, that might be for the best. As much as I want to see him, his Psycho-Pass…”

“I know. I just wish there was a way. And now that I’ve met him again, I don’t think I can give up. I’ll keep trying, Tomoyo-san.”

A thank you pales in comparison to the intensity of her determination, so Tomoyo bows her head. “I believe you can. In the meantime, we’ll wait. We’ve already done plenty of that, haven’t we?”

“Yes.” Akane agrees. “But I hope not for too much longer.”

***

Her son is home.

He’s more solid now, but his face hasn’t really changed. Her nose wrinkles at the tobacco clinging to his clothes; she hugs him tightly anyway.

“Hi, Mama.” He says, and she fights back tears. She won’t cry in front of him, or Akane, or their friends looking on. And definitely not out in a driveway. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.” She answers, ignoring her clogged sinuses. “And I haven’t been alone, not in a long time. Akane-chan’s been visiting me.”

“Akane-chan?” He repeats. His eyes dart to Akane, brows lifting. “That’s funny, I didn’t hear about that either.”

“Well, now you know.” She beams. “Come inside, Tomoyo-san.”

As he takes her jacket, Shinya mutters. “She calls you ‘Tomoyo-san’, Mama.”

“And?”

“I don’t get that same treatment.”

“If it upsets you, you should do something about it.” She dryly responds. Her son’s unamused expression makes her laugh, and she pats his cheek as she heads for Akane’s living room.

There’s a pair of women who she’s met today, sitting on the opposite couch. They’re friendly enough but she’s most familiar with Nobuchika-kun, who strikes up a conversation with her. His countenance lightens every time she sees him. He’s changed very much since his school days with Shinya, and she’s as proud of him as if he were her own.

She’s happy. Truly, unbelievably happy.

In the kitchen, Akane is making coffee for everyone, and Shinya’s stepped over to help her out. She’s never seen them together before, and now that she has, it’s like they’re tethered by a gravitational pull. It stirs the romantic in her to life after so long.

It is also the last time they meet for many months.

***

In the ensuing whirlwind of events, Tomoyo does her best to occupy herself. Group therapy has helped in that regard. She’s taken more of a mediating position as of late. It’s not long before an unfamiliar couple joins the monthly session. They introduce themselves with the name Tsunemori, and Tomoyo maintains a stoic expression. She treats them neutrally, trying to parse them out. They’re about what she expected: subdued and fearful of uncertainty, especially with regards to Akane.

Afterwards, she takes her time putting on her coat, watching everyone else walk out. When the Tsunemoris emerge, she strides a little ahead, so she can turn to them and speak.

“Your daughter’s strong. Have faith in her.” They blink at her in confusion, but she continues. “She’s helped me so much. If you have time, would you like to have tea?”

***

She calls him after washing her breakfast dishes. “Today’s the day, right?”

“Yeah, finally.”

She can hear the restrained impatience in Shinya’s voice and smiles. “Is your car clean?”

“Mama.”

“I don’t want Akane-chan to be driven out of that place in a dirty car.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” He grumbles.

“Well, I do. She’s like the daughter I don’t have.”

“…working on it.”

“What was that?” Of course, she knew what he said, but she wanted to hear him say it clearer.

“Nothing. We’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

She purses her lips. “We’ll talk more then. Have fun, be safe.”

He sighs, but his reply is fond. “Alright. See you later.” The call ends.

Hoshiko announces her Hue for the day. “Powder blue! Would you like me to pull up your shopping list?”

“In fifteen minutes. Thank you.” The starfish blinks out and she exhales. She’s alone, but not for long. She finishes her coffee with a smile.

#psycho pass #shinkane #very slightly #also references my shinkaneweek fics

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 4 years

Text

Dammit Hawks {Shoto Todoroki}

A/N: This oneshot is dedicated to @myherowritings because when no one answered me as to which piece I should work on I saw Sof on my dash and decided I’d finish this Todoroki story first for her! Also, please be understanding of some details from the movie possibly being wrong, I saw it opening night and then the world exploded and I couldn’t see it again to get all the gritty details right!

When Shoto regained consciousness his body was still half frozen and Iida, Tsu, and Kirishima were all still knocked out in various positions around the clearing at the water’s edge.

Instantly he panicked at the idea that maybe the villain Chimera had gotten loose from his ice and was once again after the little boy, but a gloved hand landed on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Welcome back to the spotlight, listener!”

Blinking slowly, he realized that Present Mic was smiling down at him, the island sun causing a glare on the lenses of his glasses. Never before had he felt so relieved as to see his English teacher in front of him. If he was there that meant that Yaoyorozu’s message had made it to someone who could call for backup and that backup had arrived. They weren’t alone anymore.

His tongue coated in frost, he tried to ask, “Is everyone alright?” but the words wouldn’t form properly.

“Rest those vocal cords, you’ve got a long performance ahead of you when it’s time to give a statement,” Mic said as he gave his shoulder a squeeze. Behind him, Shoto could see others coming into the area and beginning to tend to his classmates and ensure that the villain was dealt with properly.

He tried to sit up, his muscles making it difficult with how stiff and cold they felt but the guiding hand of his teacher helped to steady him. His head ached and shivers wracked his body but he was alright—so, so tired, but alright. All he could hope was that the rest of the class were the same and had minor injuries at most.

Despite the dizziness he felt at being upright after such a battle he tried to listen to the responders around him helping the rest of his classmates that had been by his side against Chimera. Kirishima was closest, and he could hear the medic rousing him back to consciousness and asking him questions to ensure that he was coherent and aware of his surroundings. Based on the slow, careful responses from the redhead he likely had a concussion.

Farther away he could see Iida also being woken for assessment. He could guarantee that his engines had overheated after the intense Recipro during their final rush towards the villain, and had he also done another earlier in their fight? Shoto really couldn’t remember, his thoughts and memories hazy when he tried to recall what happened when they first engaged Chimera.

“We need a shock blanket for this one!”

His attention shifted over to where two medics were waving over a third that held a packaged blanket, Tsu’s body curled away from his melting ice. Realization dawned on him at the sight, remembering that her quirk made her sensitive to the cold which made guilt settle in his chest. He should’ve stayed conscious long enough to make sure she and the others were alright. If he—

“You need to be looked at too, Todoroki,” Mic said, pulling him back from his thoughts. “Are you in any pain or did you hit anywhere that your ice might be dulling—”

Shoto shook his head and brushed off his teacher’s grip, gesturing for him to wait a moment as his left side began to slowly heat up. Still stiff, he raised his hand to cover his right shoulder and begin to warm his skin, the frost evaporating off of him and disappearing into the air. He kept himself at a moderate temperature as he moved his hand around his body to melt the icy chill settled in his bones, and once he felt that he could speak, he turned back to Present Mic.

“Is everyone else alright?” he asked, his voice rough.

Mic sighed. “I don’t know yet, to be honest. We all split up into groups so we could look for you and your classmates since the moment we docked we saw separate areas of the island peninsula looked like bombs had gone off. Recovery Girl is on her way, though, don’t worry.”

Shoto began to rise to his feet, once again being helped by his teacher. His knees wobbled slightly but he pushed himself to remain upright. “Let me help you, I know where everyone was supposed to be and which villains they were going to be fighting. We strategized, we had a plan.”

“That info would help but you don’t need to be wandering around the island with us. Why don’t you tell me where everyone should be and I’ll radio it to the rest of the pros, yeah?”

He began to explain where everyone was supposed to be positioned and the villains that were to be lured to each location. It was very clinical, like he was giving a report for class, because he knew that if he gave more thought to what could have happened while his team was dealing with Chimera, he would lose his composure.

Mic listened intently and once Shoto finished, he nodded and stepped away to radio the information to the other pros who had come to the island for backup.

“Let the medics look over you, Todoroki,” were his final words before he was left alone, watching as his classmates were still being treated around the clearing.

With a sigh, he looked to where the sun shone behind the stone ruins on the highest point of the peninsula. The islanders should be there with his classmates standing guard, and the classmates that fought, well, they should be alright too. In training or not, they were heroes for what they’d done on this island, he was sure of that.

“SHOTO!”

He closed his eyes in recognition of the bellowing voice, head tipped back as if gathering strength to deal with the exchange about to happen. Then, with a deep breath, he opened his eyes and turned to see Endeavor coming towards him at a brisk pace, concern and relief fighting for control of his features.

“Endea—” he began to acknowledge but was cut off as his father reached him and scooped him up into a tight bearhug, his feet lifting almost half a meter off the ground. He grimaced both from the action itself and from the metal gauntlets digging into his torso, looking away as he let out more shouts of his worry and happiness and pride. Was this what others meant when they said that their parents’ affection was embarrassing? It had to be.

He didn’t want to admit that the warmth of his father’s flames was helping ward off the chill still lingering on his skin so he sighed, looking away from the out of character declarations of worry being proclaimed but allowing this odd moment to continue. He would unpack this situation later once he knew his friends were all okay.

“I’m alright,” he finally interrupted, his father taking a much-needed breath as he quieted, “but do you know anything about the rest of my classmates? Is everyone alive?”

“We’ve only just arrived and it was my first priority to find you—”

“Put me down.”

Endeavor obliged but became confused when he started to walk away almost the second his boots hit the grass. “Shoto, where do you think you’re going? We haven’t secured the island yet.”

“My friends could be dead, I don’t care if the island is secure or not. Heroes are supposed to help, and right now, I need to see which classmates need my help.”

“I can’t allow you to wander the island al—”

“Then keep up,” he interrupted without looking back or slowing his pace.

With Endeavor at his heels he set out to find the areas of the peninsula that were predetermined for their moves against the villains, his body heating up naturally from the warmth of the sun and the exertion on his already haggard body. If he weren’t bound and determined to find his friends he was sure he would’ve collapsed.

The duo walked in silence which he was grateful for; his head was starting to throb. When he was able to, he was going to take a long shower and crawl into his bed at the lodge.

A chime sounded from Endeavor as they were approaching the connection from the island where the terrain was devastated. He retrieved a radio from his suit and they heard the question of Shoto’s whereabouts crackle through the speaker.

“My son is with me,” Endeavor answered back. “Are there updates on the locations of the other children?”

Shoto recognized Aizawa’s voice as the reply came, “Three of the villains are in custody and now that we know Todoroki is with you then all the students are accounted for. We have a unit searching the island for the final villain and we’re making a medical bay out of the students’ lodge so meet us there.”

With an affirmative to his teacher, Endeavor tucked the radio back into his costume and motioned for him to lead the way to the lodge. He gave no protest as he changed course to cross the connection back to the island itself, relishing in the fact that his father was quietly following his lead.

Trekking past the farmland and through the few scattered homes on the outskirts of the town gave them a chance to see some of his classmates heading back as well as many of the islanders. They informed him that the worst of their injured friends had already been taken ahead by the medics and some of the local doctors joined them.

By the time they arrived at the lodge there was a flurry of activity as Recovery Girl directed the medics and volunteer locals around to tend to the other students. Aizawa and All Might stood to the side, well aware that their authority meant nothing when the small woman took charge like this. It took time, but soon everyone was assessed and treated, though some of the injuries required more energy than they had strength for and would only be fully healed once they rested. Overall, class 1-A would be alright.

Sato, Hagakure, and Koda were the only ones without any real injuries, having been barricaded within the cave with the island’s inhabitants who were also uninjured from the events of the day. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the class, though some were in much worse shape than others.

Sero had suffered whiplash and a concussion from the force of the rubble he and Uraraka had weaponized being used against them, shooting pains running down his neck at the mere thought of looking to his left. Jiro’s back had been broken when slammed into the craggy rock of the peninsula by Nine and she hadn’t been conscious until medics arrived. Once found in the catacombs, Ashido had needed a transfusion from the blood loss caused by a large gash on her thigh; Tokoyami had tried to slow the bleeding and it was thought that if he hadn’t she wouldn’t still be with them.

Both Midoriya and Bakugo were by far the ones with the most varied injuries, each of them nursing shattered arms, concussions, and broken ribs with Bakugo also receiving a punctured lung. It seemed that Bakugo also had memory loss stemming from the concussion because when he awoke in the makeshift triage room at their lodge his first question after being told of the little boy Katsuma’s safety was what happened to his arms. Midoriya had stuttered his way through a vague explanation until Bakugo’s frustration caused him to snap to him to stop talking.

The meal they all shared that evening was prepared by the locals in appreciation for their dedication to their safety, and even as crowded as the lodge was with pros, medics, and some islanders joining them inside, it was more enjoyable than words could express. Even after their dishes had been cleared away and discussions of how to focus their efforts to restore the island had begun, there was a sense of togetherness and determination to reach their new goal.

The next morning things began to move in terms of rebuilding the island. Assignments were divvied up based on skills and quirks, and even more pros and volunteers had arrived via boat to help.

Shoto had been assigned to assist with clearing debris from the majorly affected portions of the island and worked hard to gather the larger scraps that could be burned, igniting a flame in his palm to create a large bonfire that would be watched over by several others in his group. More pieces of fallen trees and shards of the dock were added as the sun rose higher in the sky.

It wasn’t until Hawks laid a hand on his shoulder that he paused for the first time around one o’clock in the afternoon. His sweat-covered brow furrowed, he asked what he needed and received a happy smile as he replied, “You’ve been at it for hours, take a break and get some lunch!”

A sound idea, he dusted his hands off on his pants and followed him back towards their lodge with a promise to his groupmates that he would be back within the hour. The two walked in silence for a few moments before Shoto realized that he could finally request the permission he’d been seeking since the morning.

“Can I use the communication to the mainland this evening?” he asked, hands shoved into his pockets.

Wings fluttering, Hawks cocked his head to the side. “What communication? All services are still down on the island and probably won’t be repaired and fully operational for another day or two.”

“But you said everyone’s parents were informed that we were safe. How were they told if you have no connection to the mainland?”

“We’ve been bringing heroes back and forth since there’s no real place to house everyone until the island is repaired. Eraser and Mic went back first with the other initial contact heroes to handle the school’s damage control with your parents.” Hawks paused before grinning. “Well, not including your dad obviously since I got to hear about that lovely reunion from Present Mic!”

“Only family was told of the situation after the fact, right?” Shoto pressed, ignoring the jab at his family issues.

“Yeah, of course. What’s got you so worried?”

“I have to let my girlfriend know what happened and that I’m okay. Endeavor surely didn’t take the time to do it, and having some other pro tell her wouldn’t satisfy her. It might be fine if Mr. Aizawa or even Present Mic told her but I’m sure they didn’t think to do it either,” he sighed. “I’ll let her know once we get back, I suppose. I’m alright but until she sees me with her own two eyes she won’t believe that.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that thought—he loved having someone other than his siblings concerned about him for the right reasons. After any patrol or training session she would thoroughly inspect him for damage as he gave a play by play of what happened so she knew where to look. Usually he would cheekily slip in false details so that her inspection could lead to other activities, but after what had happened on the island, he would indulge her with only facts. He’d been gone long enough that teasing wouldn’t be necessary to entice her.

“Well she knows there was massive trouble here on the island,” Hawks revealed, scratching at his jaw. “I had to put in the call to my agency so they knew what was going on and who to contact for backup, plus I needed some sidekicks to take my pla—”

“What?!” Shoto snapped, eyes going wide as he stopped walking. “It’s been over twenty-four hours since you arrived and that was what? After the five- or six-hour flight it took you to get here from the mainland?”

He raised his hands defensively, also pausing his steps. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down! Aizawa had to let my agency know that I’d be here for a few days to help out with the investigation but that everyone was safe, no casualties. She knows you’re okay.”

Narrowing his eyes, he levelled the older hero with an intense gaze. “Do you even know her at all? Her mind is going to be repeating that ‘no casualties doesn’t mean no damage’ until she has direct confirmation that I’m uninjured. Then she’s still going to worry until she can see me and physically assess my well-being herself.”

“Not to be too gross since you’re both like, twelve, but shouldn’t that make the reunion more int—”

“Shut your mouth,” Shoto hissed, flames igniting from his left side and crackling dangerously.

Hawks blinked. “I can send a direct message to my agency with the next heroes going out to let her know that I’ve personally assessed you for injuries. That probably won’t be until around dinner though; we’ve been doing a shift change roughly every eight hours to make sure we’ve got plenty of help for restoration since several of you are still on the mend.”

The flames died down considerably before extinguishing, but his t-shirt was essentially ruined, succumbing to his fire like so many before it. “Thank you.”

“I know you and your dad aren’t exactly close or whatever,” Hawks started cautiously, eyeing the exposed skin peeking through the burnt fabric, “but you sure as hell get your intimidation factor from him, damn.”

Shoto stayed quiet, continuing back towards the lodge where some of the locals had gathered to prepare midday meals for the pros, students, and the rest of the island’s inhabitants as the restoration efforts began.

As much as everyone wished those efforts would bear fruit quickly, it was impossible to have the island fully operational within a few days. Slowly but surely, with the help of pros and the students alike they were able to return bits and pieces of the island to normalcy. The dock had been first, everyone agreeing that making it easier to ferry in pros and relief supplies from the Hero Commission would make the rebuild much smoother as the weeks would wear on.

Those who had already recovered from the ordeal with the villains banded together to continue their work on the island and its recovery. The ones with more severe injuries were made to rest after a thwack to the knees from Recovery Girl’s cane, only to be released to labor once she saw fit.

It was hard work to assist with the restoration but there were so many people to help that breaks could be taken without much fuss since progress was still being made day by day.

The very moment service was restored on the island Shoto was racing back to their lodge to lock himself in his and Midoriya’s empty room so that finally, finally, he could speak to his girlfriend. Without communication services everyone had taken to leaving their phones behind, and he had never been one to be attached to his phone but with the news that communication to the mainland would be possible he felt the absence of its weight in his pocket.

He had turned the device off after the pros had arrived and it hadn’t left his bedside table until that moment when he practically threw himself onto his futon as he jammed the buttons to turn it back on. His patience was hanging on by a hair-thin thread as he watched the symbol for his network load and then the notifications start to come through.

Flashes of Fuyumi and Natsuo’s names appeared before fading into unimportance—they already knew he was alright—when he saw his girlfriend’s name with three unread messages, the first being from the morning of the day they launched their divide and conquer strategy. Of course he knew that she would be worried, but reading the simple plea had his chest feeling tight.

‘the agency contacted me this morning saying Hawks wouldn’t be in because he’s on the way to Nabu Island to catch a villain who toppled half a prefecture the other day. Please tell me they told me the wrong island and that you’re safe’

The next was timestamped from the morning after Hawks had brought backup.

‘Hawks sent word of what happened and how your class saved everyone. I’m glad for that of course but I’m still worried for you. He mentioned how the entire island has to have all major services restored and it’ll take time, so I guess I won’t hear from you for a while. I just want to know that you’re okay because even though Hawks said there were no casualties that doesn’t mean none of you are hurt’

He saw that coming from the moment he heard what Hawks had told his agency, and he wondered how long it took her to type out the message to have such a calm wording despite the anxiety she would have been feeling.

Her last message was from two days after the villains were defeated and was by far the one that hurt his heart the most.

‘I think you know that I have to make sure you’re alright myself, Hawks’ assessment be damned. When you have service on the island please call me, I miss you Shoto’

Blowing out a breath he toggled away from his messages and clicked instead to video chat her. A video chat was still technically a call, he reasoned.

“Shoto.”

He smiled softly. “Hello.”

She bit her lip and tucked a piece of hair back out of her shining eyes, his own tracking the movement of her hand. What he wouldn’t give to be back at the dorms with her.

“Are you… is everything okay? Are… are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m okay,” he replied, still smiling. “Everyone is okay. There’s a lot of work to be done to get the island back up and running but we’re staying the rest of our scheduled time to help. It’s only another week and a half but we want to do everything we can for the locals.”

“You’re all heroes, you know,” she murmured. “You kept everyone safe and now you’re rebuilding their island when you’re all still healing.”

He sighed. “Thank you for saying that, but you don’t need to praise us when I know you’re still upset.”

“I’m not upset, Sho, I was worried and I’ve missed you and I can’t make my brain understand that you’re really truly okay without having you stand in front of me. I’m not mad that you helped protect an entire island from villains who never should have been there in the first place. I’m not mad that you’re helping those same locals rebuild to make some semblance of normalcy despite all they’ve probably lost in the last few days. Believe it or not, I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating a hero course student, so no, I’m not upset.”

Shoto was in awe. People always thought that the pros were the brave ones barreling headfirst into danger for the benefit of civilians and to an extent, yes, they were correct. It took bravery to stare down villains with disgusting intentions, but at that moment he realized that the friends, families, and partners of the heroes exhibited their own courage each day because despite the fear and worry over their loved one, they supported them. They supported them with encouragement to persevere and safety to come home to, understanding all the while that the world needs them too.

“I can promise you that I’m not upset, Shoto,” she repeated. “If you had done anything different I wouldn’t think you were doing what you felt was right. As for staying, we’ve managed two and a half weeks so far so I think we can do one and a half more.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I think we can too.”

They continued to talk for another hour before Ashido started knocking on his door to let him know that dinner would ready shortly and that he should head downstairs. With promises to video chat each day until his return they ended their call, each of them walking away feeling lighter than they had in days. His better mood was noticed by all when he sat down between Iida and Uraraka and engaged in the conversation about further plans for the island.

The good mood lingered for the rest of their time on the island as they worked to restore it as much as they could before leaving, a smile seen more often than not as he worked. Not even provocation from Bakugo who was still healing could bring him down, rare as it was likely to anyway.

Time seemed to go so much faster during that last week and half for the class. So much had been accomplished in that period that the island was well on its way to its new normal. Thanks to Kaminari, electricity had been restored once repairs were made to the equipment, and Yaoyorozu had made several key replacement pieces for necessary machinery too. Homes had been rebuilt and more were in the works.

On the morning they were set to depart, all of the locals were gathered on the new dock to see them off. Shouts of thanks were made by the students as well as the islanders, promises and requests to return and well wishes of good luck flowing freely. Even the two children, Katsuma and Mahoro, had run along the dock to say their goodbyes to Midoriya and Bakugo specifically, the blonde actually looking softer as he bid his farewells. Then entire class then settled back, each of them reflecting on their time on Nabu Island.

When the boat docked on the mainland, there was a flurry of activity to organize everyone as they collected their belongings and were greeted by their teachers who had come to escort them back to the UA campus. While three of the villains had be taken into custody, the fourth and arguably most dangerous, Nine, was still missing after his final confrontation with Midoriya and Bakugo. Without confirmation of his whereabouts the staff were reluctant to rely on the belief that he had not survived and preferred to err on the side of caution. No one could blame them for that.

Iida took charge of organizing the class as they made their way off of the boat and collected all of their luggage. Most of them only had their costume cases and a duffle bag—Shoto included—but others seemed to misunderstand the suggestion from Aizawa to “pack light.” Yaoyorozu was expected, but Jiro was not, having surprised everyone when she had her costume case, a duffle bag of clothes, her bass’ case, and a bag of music equipment to go with it.

“You aren’t carrying all of that,” Shoji stated plainly, the arms on his left side picking up all but her costume case easily. Jiro trailed after him while protesting but he paid her no mind.

Once they were all on land they were greeted to the sight of their families standing in a crowd farther up the dock. Iida’s control broke as he and several others rushed to their loved ones, reunions like this becoming commonplace in their pursuits of becoming pro heroes.

“Shoto! Over here!”

Turning at the sound of his sister’s voice, he spotted both her and Natsuo coming closer and walked over to meet them. Fuyumi immediately threw her arms around him in a fierce hug that nearly caused him to lose his balance. With a laugh he raised his free arm to hug her back and he felt Natsuo clap him on the shoulder.

“We’re glad you’re safe, little brother,” he said with a grin. “Sis damn near had a heart attack when she heard about what you did to that villain.”

“I was worried, Natsuo!” she defended, loosening her grip on Shoto but allowing her hands to rest on his shoulders. “And I wasn’t the only one.”

His ears perked up at that, wondering if his girlfriend had spoken with his family throughout his post-villain time on the island.

“We were all worried, but you two were both a wreck up until you saw him get off that boat,” Natsuo teased. Turning to Shoto, he tossed a thumb over his shoulder and told him, “Your girlfriend tagged along with us.”

His entire body warmed over as his eyes shifted to see behind his brother, and yeah, there she was. Standing just on the outskirts of the crowd with her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of her top, she made eye contact with him, and he used all the energy he had to wordlessly communicate to her that he needed to touch her just as much as she needed to touch him to know that this was real.

She cautiously stepped up to him as his siblings backed away, both of them curious to see how she would handle his return.

Shoto held his breath when her hands raised up and cradled his face, his grip on his hero costume’s case loosening to drop to the ground beside him with a thunk and his duffle bag following suit a moment later. His hands free, he placed them on her hips.

“I haven’t kissed you in a month,” she said quietly, fingertips brushing across his cheek.

“I haven’t held you in a month,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her.

Both of them relaxed into the kiss as if the contact itself lifted every worry from their shoulders; there was no ocean separating them anymore, no class resuming on Monday, no rush on the tweaks to Hawks’ sidekick’s equipment. There was only their reunion.

Her hands moved from his face to the base of his neck and his slid around her waist to press her closer, and even when they pulled apart, aware of the many eyes on them, they stayed close.

“You were really alright?” she asked hesitantly. “Hawks wasn’t just telling me that to buy you time to heal with Recovery Girl?”

Shoto chuckled, slightly breathless. “No, love, he was telling the truth. I only needed rest to recover from overworking my ice and time for the cuts and scrapes to disappear. I was alright then and I’m alright now. We all are, and so are the islanders.”

Seemingly satisfied, she rested her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh. One of his hands unwound from her and came to hold her head against him as he laid his cheek against her hair.

“I missed you,” she said against his shirt collar.

His lips twitched up into a small smile. “I missed you too.”

“Now if those two aren’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” Hawks said loudly, his wings spreading wide to attract as much attention as possible to the young couple in front of him.

Shoto glared at him and felt her face grow warm against him, her embarrassment fueling his annoyance at the golden-haired man’s ridiculous display even further.

“Endeavor, you ready to be a grandad yet? By the looks of those two you may not have to wait long!”

His girlfriend let out what sounded like a squeak as she removed herself from him completely with cheeks burning brighter than the red half of his hair. While he was upset that she was no longer wrapped in his arms, her distance gave him the ability to allow his flames to burst forth from his left side as he rounded on the number two hero.

“Dammit Hawks!”

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mistflyer1102 · 3 years

Text

first meeting

Read on AO3 here.

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

He had the urge to clear the ground, to take point and look for threats.

But Darman refrained from moving ahead, and instead kept pace with the young Padawan Commander Etain Tur-Mukan as she led him through the woods, along the river, only coming to a stop when they came to the edge of what looked like a dirt road. Qiilura looked stranger, more threatening in the darkness, he decided, but the commander had been there longer, and he trusted that she knew where she was going, and what she was doing. He could see she was still wet from where he’d had to push her into the river to avoid her lightsaber, when she had mistaken him for Ghez Hokan and charged, but the squelching from her movements wasn’t as loud as he had initially feared.

She knelt, staring intently across the grasses that lined both sides of the road for a few moments, and he knelt beside her, using his scanners to check the area for threats. Aside from the gdans and the occasional warren, he couldn’t see or pick up anything remotely close to a severe threat, but he also knew that she could pick up things through the Force. True to her word, she didn’t seem to be straining under the weight of the packs he’d allowed her to carry, but she was also shivering however minutely. He could see it in the glow of the moon above them.

“Ma’am—” he began carefully.

“Shh,” she whispered back, not turning back to face him as she looked across the grasses again. He fell quiet, briefly wondering as to what she was picking up that he was missing, but he waited, checking their surroundings again through his helmet’s scanners. She then shifted in place, catching his attention. “What is it?” she whispered, tilting her head slightly to glance back at him.

“What is the plan for getting to our destination?”

“Plan?” she repeated, sounding uncertain. Darman blinked, but before he could clarify his question, she whispered, “Oh. Um, we’ll follow the river back to the woods, cut through, and then through barq fields to get back to the farmhouse, er, specifically to the place where I’ve been lying low for the past week or so.” She shuddered, moving into a lower crouch. “We’ll have to follow the paths that have already been made in the fields, some of Hokan’s men already crashed through it. I’ll, uh, lead the way on that one.”

Darman nodded, not missing the way her voice caught at the end there. “And then once we are through the fields?”

“We keep a low profile while walking through the farm. There’s a barn on the opposite side that I’ve been staying in, we’ll both stay there for now. If all goes well, then the owner will already know about you being there with me. At least, we’ll stay there until it’s time to find the rest of your squad. From what I have seen, Hokan hasn’t been methodical about searching for me. And you, if he already knows you’re here,” she whispered, turning around in place and kneeling as she faced him. “Does he?”

“It is possible, we had a crash landing. That’s how I got separated from my squad,” Darman said, shifting so that he was kneeling in front of her. “We should operate on the assumption that he knows that someone from the Republic is here.”

She let out a small snort, startling him. “Oh, he definitely knows someone from the Republic is here,” she whispered, eyes scanning his face before she finally made eye contact with him. It was a bit unnerving, given he was still wearing his helmet, but she finally looked away again. “Master Fulier and I were here for some time before Master Fulier was arrested, we were investigating Doctor Uthan at the request of the High Council,” she admitted, placing a hand on the ground to steady herself. “Master Fulier…he got involved with a local brawl, and then got arrested. He was killed recently,” she said, voice wavering so slightly that he wondered if she realized it herself.

He had to ask, however insensitive it may be. “Are you certain?”

She nodded stiffly. “We Jedi…teachers and students, we become attuned to each other in the Force. I could find Master Fulier better than, say, my former classmates since I haven’t seen or interacted with them since we became Padawans,” she whispered, almost absently pushing the dirt around with her fingers. “I felt the moment Master Fulier was killed, and I can’t sense him anymore.”

Darman nodded. He’d learned that while he was still on Kamino, that Jedi could sense not only non-Force-sensitives, but each other as well. What he hadn’t realized, was the level of the connection they had with each other. Almost like us with our original squadmates. And maybe I will get to that someday with Niner, Atin and Fi, once I catch up to them here. “General Zey wasn’t sure when he briefed us on this mission. Commander Jusik said that General Fulier hadn’t reported in for a few weeks at that point,” he said, tilting his head slightly when he saw a minute flinch in her silhouette. “Valaqil, a Gurlanin native to Qiilura, he said that he believed Fulier was betrayed by a local and possibly killed, but that was also a few days ago,” he added after a moment, wondering if she was curious about the Republic’s perception of her current situation.

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, but a second later, he thought he heard her mutter something under her breath about Jusik and ‘picture perfect’. He surmised that she knew Jusik then, despite the two Padawans having different masters. Were rivalries common among Jedi? He didn’t know, and hoped that she would stay focused on the here and now whatever the case may be with her and Commander Jusik. Rivalries amongst squads were common on Kamino, especially between Sergeant Skirata’s squads and Sergeant Vau’s squads, but at least Darman knew they were all trained to set those aside and stay focused on the target when on a mission.

Before he could ask, however, she shook her head. “Okay, well, at least we know that the plans are out of Hokan’s hands,” she finally whispered, shifting in place to turn back around. Ignoring the faint squelching sound of wet fabric as she moved, she shifted from her kneeling position back to the crouch. “It was a local who betrayed Master Fulier, which is why we need to use caution around Birhan, the farmer who owns the place we’re going to,” she added as she began to tiptoe forward, hugging the edge of the road while still remaining in the grasses. “The gdans will only be scared of us for so long before they decide that they’re hungry. Jinart will probably be even more irritated with me if I can’t get you back to the farm in one piece.”

“Yes, ma’am. Who is Jinart?”

Another twitch. Had he overstepped his boundaries by asking?

“Jinart…I’m not sure how she’s connected to Birhan’s family, but so far, she’s the one person on Qiilura who knows who I really am, knows who you are, and hasn’t turned either of us in to Hokan and his men yet. Which means she has a reason invested in our survival, but I don’t know what that is yet,” she said as she started to move forward again, head turning as she scanned across the grasses again.

He saw the warren hole through the infrared before she did. Darman reached out and caught her shoulder, keeping her from pitching forward onto her face, pack and all, as her foot slid forward into the warren. She froze, then muttered something under her breath again as she gingerly eased her foot out. “Thank you, Darman,” she whispered as he released her shoulder.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

#darman skirata #etain tur murkan #republic commando #star wars #mistflyer fanfiction

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

different anon but i would love that rec list you mentioned ....👀

ok here we go my most up-to-date and comprehensive newt/hermann rec list yet! combining elements from all the other ones i’ve made! this is in no way a be-all-end-all of the best newt/herm fic or anything, these are just ones ive remembered to bookmark--i’ll def edit and add stuff as i go bc i know i left a bunch off

for the most part they stay away from uprising bc i don’t like to read uprising compliant fic LOL

G/Not Rated:

Portrait. by VictoryCandescenceWe all know about Becket and Mori, the Last Rangers of Hong Kong and the late Marshall Stacker Pentecost. But Doctors Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler might be two you haven’t heard about until now. And when you hear their story, you’ll wonder how it ever stayed a secret for so long.

the future’s owned by you and me by kaiyenYears after they stopped writing each other, Newt and Hermann run into each other on the steps of Cambridge University Library. Quite literally.

The Love And Care Of Your Pet Kaiju Skinmite by IasNewt brings home a new pet. Hermann is justifiably horrified.

Don't Hang Up Yet, I'm Not Done by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse“With all due respect, sir,” said Hermann, “I fail entirely to see any humor whatsoever in this situation.”“Yes,” said Pentecost. “It adds to the effect.”The world is ending, Hermann Gottlieb is a radio show host, and Newton Geiszler is absolutely convinced it all has something to do with aliens.

Alternate by perniciousLizardNewt accidentally ends up in a place that’s almost exactly like his own reality, with one major difference.

Operation: RTF by purpleeyesandbowtiesMako’s bio teacher is acting weird. Well, weirder than normal. And there’s a new teacher who Mr. Geizler claims is a college buddy, but there’s something about this whole thing that feels….off. Naturally, the only reasonable solution is Operation: RTF.

Hypothetically by supersymmetryAka Tendo sets Newt and Hermann up on a blind date because someone had to.

Mariposa (aka westworld au) by janewestinTwo years after his last encounter with the host called Newton Geiszler, Hermann finds himself back in the park.

D = V * T by seabassThere are no monsters, mutants, or war. Robots do not stand as gladiators against the test of Man. Warriors do not drift together, close in thought and will and action.There’s just a hole in the desert. And it grows.

there’ll be no life of crime by ByacolateAs much as he respects Stacker Pentecost, Hermann hates him a little for dangling Hannibal Chau in front of Newton’s eyes like a toy mouse on a string.+ the rest of the series…..!

Ships Ill-Lit At Night by Rikku (the same author has an excellent uprising fix-it if you’re interested)Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler are correspondents for years before they first meet, and then it is years more before they will admit to even being friends. Meanwhile the war rages, the monsters that rise from the sea surely too powerful to be fought with brittle ships of wood and sail.At least when the Fleet fights it, they must all stand together.

A Sharp Dressed Man by AveleraHermann’s latest book needs an author photo. However, when he’s given a makeover and a suit that actually fits for the photo shoot, his appearance is so transformed that Newt mistakes him for his (much hotter) older brother, Dietrich.Hermann decides to play along.

It Was Only A Kiss, How Did It End Up Like This by AnonymousPuzzler“Hermann, come on, I don’t have to be up for another hour, go shut off your stupid alarm so I can go back to sl—”Finally, Hermann had grumbled incoherently, shoved himself up on one elbow, kissed Newt full on the mouth, and rolled out of bed.Suffice to say, Newt was very, very much awake after that.

and i couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted by LvslieHe still smells like Newt; bears traces of his recent nearness. Clothes sleep-wrinkled from the proximity, from the way Newt’s ankle has during the night hooked around the calf of Hermann’s good leg and dragged his whole body seamlessly closer. Cheek half-flushed from the face unconsciously nuzzled his into the side of Hermann’s neck—evidence of his presence, fast asleep, as Hermann lay still and fretful for hours an end, staring at the ceiling and feeling sick with wanting.[An early 20th century AU inspired loosely by Maurice and Age of Innocence.]

Meet Me There Across The Water, And We’ll Start An Endless Storm by CancerConstellationHermann, an honorably discharged veteran has retired to continue working as a Keeper at a Lighthouse. It is perfectly solitary, and with little in the way for incidents. Newton is the sailor that washes up on the seashore after a summer storm.[Late 19th century Lighthouse Keeper AU–or the one where Hermann was an aspiring artist whose dreams got a bit derailed, and Newt is the sailor that needs to learn to take his time with things.]

It Was Love At Second Sight by rednightsHermann receives the first letter when he is eighteen years old.or: Kaiju don't attack the Earth, but Hermann and Newt still write letters, botch their first meeting, and fall in love, not necessarily in that order.

the truth about me (and the truth about you) by danimagusNewton suffers from a bout of memory loss and is told Hermann is his fiancé. Hermann plays along, to his endless shame.

Transducer by hal_incandenza (or: 1970s espionage AU)“I need you to hide something for me.”“Oh, excellent. Of course, Newton, please allow me to jeopardize my career. And yours as well. My pleasure. Do go on.”“Yeesh, relax,” said Newton. “It’s a personal thing, not a work thing.”“As if there is any division between the two,” Hermann snapped.If only you knew, Newt thought.

First a Darling, Then a Marvel by isozymeNewt runs a simulation given three constraints:1: Newt wants to clone a kaiju2: Hermann does not want Newt to clone a kaiju3: Newt is going to clone a kaiju anyway

Can I Be Your Memory by agrajagHermann suffers from amnesia after a bump to the head and is suddenly very nice to Newt. Newt is way too gay to handle this. And what will happen when Hermann’s memories return?

The Geiszler & Gottlieb Post-Saving-the-World Lecture Tour (series) by zach_stone

if you would stay In the wake of the world not ending, while certain heroes are invited to a parade of talk shows and press tours, the two-man remains of the PPDC’s K-Science division are scheduled for a series of guest lectures in a good selection of the world’s major universities.Newt and Hermann travel to from Hong Kong to Boston, and Newt tries to come to terms with a world that’s not ending and his feelings for Hermann that are becoming harder to hide.

find shelter somewhere in me“You ready for this?” Newt mutters as they approach the podium.Hermann shoots him the smallest smile, touching Newt’s wrist. “With you, always.”The Geiszler and Gottlieb Lecture Tour continues, and Newt realizes Hermann may not be coping with the aftermath of the war as well as he pretends to be.

Darling by BeeLoveIn which Newton rides Hermann for all he’s worth. Or at least tries to.

Our Breath Will Still / A Short Distance Ahead by irisbleuficThis story is a study in monster-hunting and risk-taking, professional and otherwise.

Problems with Local Denim Topology (accnt orphaned tragically)This is how, when the chaos of Newt’s life finally settles down into something approximating normal (one apartment, one nine-to-five job, one handsome husband, and no kaiju), he finds himself struggling to pull on an old pair of skinny jeans.

Sea Swept by cypress_treeA high seas fantasy AU in which Hermann is a ship’s navigator and Newton is found washed up among flotsam.

Surrounded by berlynn_wohl (all of this author’s newt/hermann PWP is like. fucking top tier.)Newt is involved in a teleporter accident, with sexy results. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Circumstances by glassfrogIt was Newt who suggested the handcuffs.

newmann drabbles & fics by skeleton_twinsa collection of short newmann fics

#maria's newmann blogging #ask #Anonymous

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cocos-cocoapuffsarenotforsale · 5 years

Text

Boss’s Baby

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Hotch x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Pregnant!Reader, Protective!Hotch, Agent!Reader

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“So what’s up with you and Hotch?” JJ asks. It was Saturday night, Girl’s Night. You, Penelope, JJ and Emily were all at Garcia’s for a relaxing night.

“Well he asked me to move in. And the wedding plans are going well.” You respond. Hotch and you had been together for almost three years now and were still able to work cases together. The board had decided it was better to keep you on the same team than separate you.

“Exciting!” Penelope says handing you a margarita.

“No thanks.” You say declining politely. You had just found out you were expecting. The girls look at you.

“No way!” JJ exclaims.

“Your pregnant!” Garcia shouts.

“Oh my God!” Prentiss gasps.

“Yeah I’m pregnant.” All the girls get up to hug you individually.

“Have you told Hotch yet?” JJ asks.

“No I’m waiting for the right time.” You explain as all your phones buzz. “Crap. Let’s go ladies.” You say as you all hop up and drive over to the BAU.

“What’d we got?” You ask as the four of you walk in. Aaron smiles at you when you sit down at the table next to him.

“Five women, raped and held for at least a week. All lived in the same area of L.A., middle class. Y/R. They all have Y/H/C and Y/E/C. And were in their late twenties.” JJ says. Hotch looks to you with concern. They’re all exactly like you.

“Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch announces as he grabs your arm and drags you into his office.

“What the hell Aaron?” You gasp when he shuts his door behind him.

“I want you to sit this one out.” He says in a low voice.

“No you can’t tell me what to do. Hotch, c’mon I’ll be fine.” You argue.

“I can’t risk losing you, not after what happened with-” Hotch cuts himself off and runs his hands down his face. “Please do not come.”

“I have to Hotch. I will be fine. Please trust me.” You plead taking his hand in yours and giving him your famous puppy dog eyes hoping he’ll not try and pull rank on you. When the two of you began seeing each other you made an agreement to keep work as professional as possible, him pulling rank on you purely because you were his girlfriend and he wanted to keep you extra safe, was not part of that agreement.

“Fine.” Hotch growled, pulling his hand out of your grasp. “I’ll see you on the plane then, Agent Y/L/N.” With that he turns and stomps out of his office leaving you standing there alone. You felt the color drain from your face. Hotch never addressed you as Agent Y/L/N or even just Agent, no one on the team did it was always just Y/N and once in a while, mainly from Morgan, Y/L/N. Hotch must be really pissed in order to address you that way.

“Y/n, you ok?” Garcia asks as she passes you while she’s leaving the conference room.

“Hotch really doesn’t want me to go, Gracia he called me Agent Y/L/N.” You feel the words get caught in your throat. Gracia wraps and arm around you and leads you towards your desk.

“He’s just worried about you. I mean after what happened with Haley can you blame him? And Y/n/n, you do fit the victimology, like exactly. Plus should you really be doing any field work given your-uhh, well your condition?” She points out.

“JJ did. And I was planning on finishing this case and then I was gonna tell him. Please don’t say anything to him and I’ll talk to JJ and Emily to make sure they won’t say anything. I promise once this case is over I will tell him. I gotta go to the airport. See you when I get back, Penelope.” You whisper and stand up grabbing your go bag to head out.

“Just promise you’ll be careful?” Garcia pleads as she wraps you into a hug.

“Of course. Love you buddy.” You shout as you walk towards the elevator.

“Love you too my precious-firecracker-goddess!” Garcia replies as you walk into the elevator.

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TIME SKIP TO AIRPLANE

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“What’s the connection with these women? I mean I understand the look, but is that it? The way he mutilates the body, it seems personal. And the way he carves ‘whore’ into their lower torso? I mean there’s got to be something else about these women. What do these three have in common?” You ask.

“I’m looking into it now trying to find a connection but it’s taking a little time. They all had different job types, various relationship statuses. Michelle Connors was a teacher and was in an on again off again relationship, Bridget Anderson was an I.T. analyst and was engaged to a long term boyfriend and lastly Lucy Lawson was a veterinarian and was single. I’m trying to get access to medical records now but it’s gonna take a little time. The M.E. is still finishing up the autopsies so we’re gonna have to wait on that end as well. He just dumped the bodies.” Garcia explains.

“He disposed of them within days of each other.” JJ reads.

“According to preliminary findings Michelle was killed 15 days ago, Bridget 9 days ago and Lucy 3 days ago. All found within hours of their deaths.” Reid explains out loud.

“His cooling off period seems to be consistent so far but he should be starting to look soon. We gotta figure out the connection, I mean maybe if we figure it out I could-” You suggest.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Hotch shouts, he had been quite the entire plane ride, well until you tried to offer yourself up as bait.

“Hotch all I was saying was-” He cuts you off again with a harsh glare.

“I’m sorry Agent Y/L/N, I didn’t realize you were promoted. Oh, wait a second you weren’t. I make the calls for this team and I said no. No drop it Agent.” Hotch hisses, shutting you down. The team stays quite looking between the two of you curiously.

“Yes sir.” You say getting up and moving towards the back of the plane anyway.

After your and Hotch’s little show everyone decided to wait until you all landed to discuss the case more. Midway through the flight the nausea hit and you ran towards the bathroom. Emily and JJ followed to make sure you were alright. JJ stayed with you and helped you get cleaned up, while Emily returned to the main cabin.

“Are you guys alright? You and Hotch I mean. Things seemed a little tense out there,” JJ asks concerned.

“Hotch didn’t want me to come on the case. We argued about it. I haven’t even told him about the, umm, the thing,” you explain quietly.

“Maybe he’s right. I mean even without you being in your condition. It seems really risky and given what happened to Hotch last time,” she points out.

“I know but I don’t want other women to get hurt and if I can help out in anyway… I will.” You reply.

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HOTCH’S POV

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I look up when I see Y/n rush to the bathroom. I want to go after her but given our most recent interactions I’m pretty sure she would just get more upset.

“JJ, Emily could you,” I nodded my head towards the direction Y/n headed in.

“Sure,” they reply heading her way.

“What the hell is going on with you two?” Rossi asks when the girls are out of earshot.

“I didn’t want her on this case. We argued about it.” I admit quietly.

“What’s with the whole ‘Agent Y/L/N’ thing?” Rossi questions.

“She wants us to be professional at work,” I say defensively, shrugging my shoulders.

“So this is your revenge for her doing her job. Pulling rank on her and keeping her at arm’s length. Aaron, she’s your fiance. Talk to her. Getting mad at each other isn’t helping and I think you know that. Go talk to her.” Rossi advises as Emily comes back out. Aaron looks up at her.

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned.

“She’s not feeling to well. I think you should go talk to her. JJ is talking to her now but I think she wants you.” Emily reports. Hotch stands up and moves toward the back of the plan and heads to the bathroom.

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YOUR POV

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“Y/n? Are you alright? Can you let me in please?” Hotch asks from outside the bathroom door. JJ looks at you for confirmation, you nod and she opens the door.

“JJ can you give us a minute please?” Hotch requests. JJ turns to you for your reaction.

“It’s fine JJ. Thanks,” you reply quietly. JJ nods and leaves you alone with your fiance.

“Are you alright? Are you sick?” Aaron asks you concerned.

“I’ll be fine, I’m just not feeling to well.” You explain.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been behaving. I just don’t want to lose another person I love. Another person that Jack loves,” He sighs looking down at his hands.

“I’m sorry too. If you think it’s best I can work from the station and not go into the field on this one,” You offer as a middle ground.

“Thank you!” He exclaims, he grabs your face between his hands and plants a hard kiss on your lips. When you break apart he grabs your hand in his and walks you back towards the main cabin and the rest of the team.

“You good?” Rossi asks when the two of you take your seats.

“Yeah we’re all good.” You reply smiling over at Hotch.

“When we land I want Morgan and Prentiss to meet with the M.E., Reid and Rossi you go to the dump sites of the victims. JJ, Y/n and myself will go to the local police station and get set up.” Hotch announces. You all nod and you snuggle up with your boyfriend and close your eyes. You spend the rest of the flight attempting to avoid another trip to the bathroom to puke.

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TIME SKIP TO THE STATION

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“How’d it go with the M.E.?” Hotch asked when the team finally had regrouped back at the police station.

“The women were all in their first trimester of pregnancy.” Emily announced looking towards you. At Emily’s announcement JJ’s head whips towards you, Hotch gives you a strange look as the color drains from your face.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Hotch asks you.

“Umm, yeah. How would he have known that they were pregnant? He must have known them somehow?” You try to figure it out. These women had no apparent connections and how could the unsub possibly know about these pregnancies. Then it hits you some type of doctor or therapist maybe, at least that could be a starting point. You call Garcia and put her on speaker phone.

“Garcia can you dig through medical records and see if any of the doctors line up, or maybe a therapist, some type of counselor?” You rattle off ideas.

“Looks like they all saw the same counselor who was a church representative. His name is Geoffrey Lundson. Looks like he was married to a Cathleen Jacobs but she left him and according to this timeline she cheated on him during their marriage and oh my, she was pregnant with her 2nd husband Connor Jacobs, whom she was cheating with. It was a messy divorce, he had a restraining order placed against him and looks like Connor Jacobs also pressed charges of vandalism and stalking.” Jesus, you think you found your man.

“Sounds like he could be our man. Maybe I should go in and set up an appointment with him.” You suggest, JJ and Emily look at you terrified.

“Absolutely not!” Emily shouts.

“Not gonna happen Y/n. Too risky.” JJ agrees.

“Hotch c’mon. I can wear a wire. You guys can be on watch outside the building. Put a tracker on me for the added precaution.” You plead. You know you can nail this guy. He killed three young pregnant women who, given different circumstances, could easily be you.

“Send me in, instead.” Prentiss suggests.

“You don’t fit the look he wants. I match perfect.” You argue.

“She has a point, Hotch.” Rossi points out.

“Are you sure about this?” Hotch turns to you, hesitation in his eyes.

“Positive, please Hotch. I can’t let this happen to anyone else.” You beg him.

“You get in you get out. You think something's off you get out asap.” Hotch says sternly.

“Hotch-” JJ starts but you cut her off with a sharp glare.

“JJ, I can do this. Let’s go.” You respond curtly.

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

TIME SKIP TO APPOINTMENT

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

“So Ms. Y/L/N, it seems this is your first appointment. Why have you decided to seek counseling?” Geoffrey Lundson asks you.

“I recently found something out and I felt it could use a second opinion.” You explain cryptically attempting to get a read on him.

“What would that something be?” He asks curiously.

“I found out I’m pregnant. I haven’t told my fiance yet. I’m not sure how he will react. He hasn’t had the best of luck in the past with learning he will be a parent.” You lied about the last bit obviously. He was thrilled when he found out he was going to be a father when Haley told him. But you had a feeling this guy wanted you to show you were in the wrong.

“Well that is definitely a ‘something’.” Lundson remarks. “He is the father I assume?”

“I think so. I’m not positive though. There was this other guy but we were much more careful than my fiance and I.” You internally cringe at your lie. You figured if you could mimic his story as much as possible he may make a move.

“That doesn’t seem very healthy. Is he aware that you were having relations with other men?”

“No.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Shit, this must be how he got the other victims secluded. His office was about a block away from his home. If you can get him to admit something to you and gain more evidence you can nail this guy for what he did to those other women.

“Sure.” You force a smile as you agree to his suggestion. He opens the door for you and you walk with him towards his house on the next block.

“Why are you cheating on him?”

“He’s kinda boring in bed. And he’s always so distracted with work. He doesn’t prioritize me enough. So I found someone on the side who does.” You lie hoping Hotch understands.

“This is actually my house, why don’t we head in there for a little bit?” You try not to let you fear show and nod along with a tight smile, following him into the house. As soon as he gets you in he grabs you and slams you against the door.

“Bad whores like you get punished! Your a whore and I’m gonna show you what happens when your a whore.” He shouts as he tosses you to the ground.

“You’ve done this before, haven't you?” You ask trying to get a confession while you can, Hotch and the team are gonna storm in at any minute.

“Your not the first, no. I punish sluts like you so your man doesn’t have to. I’ve already finished three of you whores off. Not knowing who the father of your child is? That’s sick! And that’s why whores like you get eliminated!” He screams slapping you across the face. Just then the door gets busted down and Hotch leads the team in.

“Get away from her!” Hotch shouts and Geoffrey drops the knife and puts his hands up. Hotch rushes towards you and scoops you up into his arms leaving the team to take care of Lundson.

“Geoffrey Lundson you are under arrest for the murders of Michelle Connors, Bridget Anderson, and Lucy Lawson…” Morgan begins to read him his Miranda Rights as Hotch carries you out of earshot.

“What did he do to you?” Hotch asks as he sets you down in the back of the ambulance.

“He just shoved me around and slapped me a little. It didn’t get to far but I am glad we got a confession out of him and that you guys came in before it went any further.” You reply.

“Ma’am is there any medical concerns we should be aware of?” One of the EMTs asks you and you look at Hotch carefully. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out but it seemed unavoidable.

“Ummm, Hotch can you give me a sec?” You ask already knowing his answering.

“If you think I am leaving you at all in the foreseeable future you are crazy.” He replies not budging an inch.

“I just found out I was pregnant, still in the first trimester.” You reply quietly not taking your eyes off Hotch. You think his eyes are about to bug out of his head at your revelation. He remains quite while the EMTs check you out.

“Everything looks good but I would suggest coming in for an ultrasound just to be sure there’s nothing wrong with the baby.” The EMT suggests.

“Yeah let’s go.” You reply turning your eyes away from Hotch.

“Sir, will you be riding along to the hospital?” The EMT asks.

“Yes I will.” Hotch responds firmly. Hotch proceeds to climb into the back of the ambulance with you and holds your hand the whole way there. It was a short car ride to the hospital and only takes a few minutes for the doctor to see you.

“Looks like everything is good. You look like your about 10 weeks along. Congrats. You can get dressed and ready to be discharged. I’ll give you some time.” She reports with a smile before leaving you and Hotch alone.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” He asks as soon as the door closes.

“I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t think I would be as involved in this case as I was. Normally I stay behind. Then when I heard that those other women were pregnant too- I just, ugh- Hotch, I just knew you wouldn’t let me out in the field if you knew. You barely let me out when you didn’t know. In some twist of fate I could have been one of those women. I couldn’t risk letting this guy get away and kill more. I’m sorry.” You explain.

“Just swear to me you will never keep a secret, especially like this, from me again. I love you and I can’t lose you. Jack can’t lose you. He calls you mom, you made him smile in a way he hadn’t smiled since Haley…” Aaron trailed off shifting his gaze towards the window.

“I know baby.” You reply softly, taking his hand in yours, you place a soft kiss on the back of his hand. He returns his gaze to you.

“I love you and this baby so much, Y/n. No more field work, at least until after the baby has arrived?” He pleads.

“No more field work until after the baby comes.” You agree sighing softly, it sucked you couldn’t be in the field anymore but the reason was pretty good and in the end it was worth it.

“So how are we gonna tell Jack he’s gonna be a big brother, finally?” Hotch asks with a smirk, ever since you told Jack that the two of you were getting married he’d been asking about getting a brother or sister.

“I don’t know but I think he’s gonna be an amazing big brother.” You say pulling Aaron down for a soft kiss on the lips. You were both so excited to be expanding your little family.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #fluff #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #pregnant!reader #agent!reader #hotch x pregnant!reader #hotch x agent!reader #fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction

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acrobaticcatfeline · 4 years

Text

Of Books, Brothers, and Broadway (Creativitwins College AU) Chapter Two!!!

Word Count: 3814

TW: Remus, Janus, ocean creatures, I.E. octopus, swearing, I think thats it?

Pairings: pining logince and dukeceit right now, mentioned established moxiety.

Notes: This is pages 4-11 of a current 24. I can like, literally not stop writing this it is a stream of consciousness and I haven’t felt this productive or creative in such a long time. We meet the other 5 in this finally! At this point with 24 pages I think the title should be Of Books, Brothers, Broadway, and Boys. So there’s a little hint. Listen I’m just desperate for soft.

Summary: Roman and Remus are trying to write a musical all while juggling their college courses and jobs. Remus and Roman both inadvertently end up introducing their friend group to their brother and two are pining hard for their brothers best friend. Meanwhile, Remus talks to his boss and gets some news that makes his day.

“Hiya Roman!!! Hey wait up a sec!”

Roman was walking through campus when he heard Patton trying to grab his attention over his headphones. He pulled the headset off his head and turned towards the energetic friend who was racing to catch him.

“Howdy Popstar! I missed you last period, where were you?”

Patton panted softly as he tried to catch his breath. He finally smiled up at Roman.

“Oh yeah, my boyfriend is at home sick and I lost track of time. I didn’t even think about it until his phone alarm went off for his online class, what did I miss?”

“Oh nothing much, another duet skit, lucky for you, you got paired with me!”

“Oh boy, what skit?”

“I’ll give you the packet when we get to class, but it's from midsummer nights”

“Ohhhh I love that play!!!”

Roman was just about to bring up the musical he and Remus had started, being called the magicians notebook, when JJ walked up. He gave a casual peace sign and Patton waved.

“What's up with our favorite preps today?”

“Well actually I was just about to tell Patton about this musical-”

Jay decided to jump in front of them, now walking backwards as he stared at Roman with barely restrained joy.

“Musical you say? What’s it called? Who made it? Do I know about it?”

Roman chuckled.

“It's actually one me and my brother are making”

“YOU'RE MAKING A MUSICAL!?”

Roman couldn't hold back the loud laughter at JJ’s response, he doubled over laughing, still smiling widely as JJ was bouncing on his heels and Patton stared at him in awe.

“Wow, you and your brother are making a musical?”

“Roman I don't think I have to explain to you just how mother fucking rad that is, I think you know that already, but whats it about? Do you have any songs yet? Do you have a name yet? Who's your brother? I have so many questions Roman I can't believe I wasn't the first person you told!!!”

“You were you dork! You and Patton are currently the only ones who know about it!”

“I need answers Roman!”

“Salutations Remus. I presume you got your portion of the assignment done… 2 minutes ago?”

Remus rushed to his seat as their professor started class. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously.

“Am I that obvious Shakespeare?”

Logan stared at him emotionlessly. He looked him over then leaned his head on his hand.

“You are barely on time, cluing me in that you were preoccupied with something and lost track of time, your bag is still open, likely due to you shoving your laptop in it hurriedly without double checking the zipper, and of course, you looked sheepish as you sped in, hinting that you were doing something you weren't supposed to be doing slash doing something you were supposed to have done earlier last minute, instead of proud like you do when you were wasting your time on something you felt justified in taking your time on”

Remus shrunk. Logan could always read him like an open book, though it was his fault for befriending the psychology major he supposes. He felt ready to be completely humiliated as Logan smirked and pulled up his phone.

“And of course, the text I got from you an hour ago warning me that you might run late because of the assignment was a nice bonus”

Remus felt his cheeks redden as he remembered messaging him. He probably shouldn't be so surprised and attacked and yet he turned his face towards their professor with a huff as he pulled out his notebook and textbook. He was startled out of his thoughts as he heard the hall door open suddenly. He turned towards the noise and snickered as he saw Virgil clambering towards them as quietly as possible.

“Mr. Storm I would appreciate that if you are late to class you attempt to cause less of a distraction to the rest of your peers”

“Y-yes sir, I’ll keep that in mind”

Remus had to cover his mouth as Virgil squeezed past them and took the spot on the other side of him. He gave him a quick look and went back to the text. A small piece of paper slipped in front of him as Virgil unpacked that asked if he had missed anything. Remus shook his head idly. The three kept quiet until the teacher released them. As they packed up, Logan started a conversation.

“What made you late Virge?”

“Huh? Oh, I'm not feeling great, I woke up feeling like shit. I was originally going to just stay home sick, but I remembered our project so here I am I guess”

“Oh, Vee, you could've texted us, you didn't have to come if you were dying”

“Meh, I spent too much on this class to miss it. Especially since it's one of my prereqs. I’ll survive”

“Well I guess if you're gonna be here we might as well take advantage of it. I don't have any more classes today, you guys want to get some writing done?”

“I suppose that would be amenable”

“Sure, but I need some caffeine first, haven't had any at all today”

“Good god how were you able to drive here?”

“I can function without coffee if I get enough sleep. I also am simply not addicted”

“Well that is ridiculous, you must not be human. But I could go for a soda right now. Want me to take orders and meet you guys at the library?”

“Lit. you know what I want”

“Oh my god, somebody needs to take your flashcards”

“If you like having 5 fingers on each hand I would recommend you not do that”

Remus was getting annoyed with his brother. He was quietly ranting on the phone at him in the study room he had booked with Logan and Virgil.

“Roman, I literally could not give a shit if you told your friends about the musical idea, I was gonna tell mine as well. … so fucking what if its my final? None of your friends are in any of my courses, I'm not scared they're gonna plagiarize me, you trust them, I'm sure that you have half a decent taste in friends. … Listen, I can't deal with all of you right now, I have a collaborative story I'm supposed to be working on, we can deal with this when I get home. Just like, have a glass of your shitty wine and maybe you'll calm down. I gotta go, i’ll see you later”

Logan smirked at him as he hung up. He did the lean again and god Remus could throw him into the wall.

“What's this about a musical I hear? I didn't take you for a song and dance guy”

Remus sighed, brushing his hand through his hair as he sat down in front of his computer.

“I'm not, but my brother is. When we were younger he said that we should make a musical together. And as a man of my word, I've been working on a book for a musical for him. He's already got a couple of songs written up for it and we’re working with it. It's actually not half bad. He may drive me insane, but he's talented at what he does”

Remus had just started typing when his phone alarm went off. His eyes widened and he scrambled to pack up again.

“SHIT!!! I have a meeting with my boss, they're giving me an octopus to care for I can't believe I forgot I'm such an idiot oh shit I'm gonna be late and they won't-”

Logan stopped his hands. He looked him calmly in the eyes with a small smile.

“Hey, we’ll pack for you and drop your stuff off for you, just go and get that octopus Remus”

Remus smiled gratefully and after checking he had his phone and keys, he ran to get home.

“Hello Dr. sanders! Please come in!”

The doctor smiled at him as he stepped inside. He glanced around the area idly with a smile.

“With how energetic and, well, chaotic you are at work I didn't expect your home to be so immaculate!”

“Heheh, yeah I prefer a clean canvas. Sorry not everything is in place, I kinda forgot about this until just a bit ago and had to rush out of a study group. It's usually cleaner than this, well, at least most of it is, my brother is a mess, but he has a completely separate space. Oh boy I’m talking a lot”

“It's fine kid. Mind showing me where you'd be keeping her?”

Remus nodded and led the doctor into his room, and suddenly he felt a little self conscious over all the terrariums in his room. Dr. Sanders paid his full attention to the fish tank.

“This is impressive, it's a nice little ecosystem for all of them, are you sure Cephy won't disrupt them all?”

“Oh! Yes, I did a little research on her breed and none of the fish in there are food for her, nor is she food for. I know she's super friendly and all these guys have been very receptive to new members in the past, my newest one is the angel fish but she doesn't seem to be bothered by bigger creatures. I also have a back up tank for worst case scenarios, and the fish don't bother my brother!”

“Only thing I'd say is, maybe add some driftwood or floating objects for her to lay on”

He then turned to look at the other tanks. He smiled as he saw the lizards scatter a bit. Remus felt like he was about to die.

“These are pretty nice! You have a nice assortment of reptiles here, where'd you get them?”

“Oh, um, just uh, just outside. A good amount of lizard friends come to our patio, and every once in a while they'll like, crawl up to me. My family says I’m the reptile whisperer heh”

“That's intriguing. Most of these species are loner types, were they hurt?”

“Um, some of them were, got beat up by a local cat or something I think”

“Huh. that's even more fascinating. Anyways, back to the point. You know the rules with Cephy right? You aren't in charge of buying her food or medication until we decide whether or not she can be released. If she doesn't cut it, we will likely have you keep her rather than attempt to remove her from familiarity and then she will become your responsibility alone. She may have an attitude the first few days from moving around, but for the most part she will integrate well I think. If any complications arise, you have my personal number, and I think that's it! We will send her home with you tomorrow with a week's supplies. Any questions?”

“No sir! Thank you so much, you won't regret this, I swear!”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you last week! We were asked to lower our number of interns!”

“What? Wait why are you telling me this?”

“Well, due to that we had to make some changes, and i'd like to formally offer you a full time job! And of course, by full time, I don't plan on changing your hours unless it works with your school schedule. We would love to keep you as one of our marine biologists once you graduate!”

“I- sir, thank you so much, I, I am so grateful! Wait, does that mean I can get even more hands on experience with the critters? Oh thank you so much!”

“Heh, you're one of our best workers, I figure it might be helpful to have a proper wage. But on that note, I really should be going, I have an appointment in an hour and it's a 45 minute drive from here”

“Oh, yeah! Yes, of course, here, I’ll show you out!”

When Roman got home he didn't expect to have Remus tackle him.

“Whats up Remus?”

“I PASSED!!! SHE'S COMING TOMORROW!!! AND I GOT A PROMOTION!!! ROMAN I GOT A RAISE, I'M GETTING AN EXTRA 5 DOLLARS AN HOUR I CAN'T BELIEVE MY LUCK!!!”

“Holy shit man, maybe you should be paying all the bills now, you make way fuckin more than I do at the cafe!”

“Oh, wait, fuck, Logan and Virgil are coming by fuck I gotta clean”

Roman just about died laughing as Remus ran around trying to tidy the place. It was only a few minutes before there was a knock on the door. Roman got it as Remus made a pot of coffee.

“Hello!”

“Hello Remus! We came to return your bag and your soda that you left at the library”

“Logan open your eyes, that's not Remus. Remus has a mustache you fool”

Logan opened his eyes to see Remus. But not Remus, Remus was more scruffy, and he was shorter, Remus was only a little taller than him, but the not Remus in front of him towered a good several inches over him. And the biggest difference to Logan, was Remus had auburn eyes, almost red, the not Remus in front of him had bright green eyes. Logan felt his cheeks redden. He looked down sheepishly after having stared.

“My apologies, you must be Remus’ brother. My name is Logan and this is Virgil”

“Well hello there Logan and Virgil, my name is Roman. Please, come in”

“Roman STOP FLIRTING!!!”

The two stepped in and laughed as Roman shouted back.

“I LITERALLY JUST SAID HELLO AND MY NAME OH MY GOD”

Logan and Virgil wandered in, meeting Remus in the living room, greeting them with a smile and cups of coffee. The two took them graciously and sat down at Remus’ request. While Remus stayed in the kitchen as he searched for snacks in the cabinet, Roman leaned against the wall, giving the guests a quick look over. He smiled faintly as he saw the glasses clad one, Logan he reminded himself, turn red at the attention.

“Roman did you ever go to the store and get what I asked you for?”

“Of course not, you didn't give me a list and I prefer to keep our phone calls to twice a month and I was out of calls”

“You're an idiot”

“Yeah I sorta went into the least brainy major I could find. You're supposed to be the brainy one”

Remus sighed as he brought out a plate of fruits and chips and dip. He shot a glare at Roman's smirk.

“What are you smirking about now?”

“Oh nothing, just a little offended that you hid your cute friends from me”

Roman nearly sputtered after the words left his mouth as Logan turned bright red. Virgil just rolled his eyes at him and Remus looked just about ready to smash his glass of coffee over Roman's head, but he stayed resolute.

“Roman, can't you just go flirt with a random tree? Or one of my lizards! Keith would love a boyfriend!”

“I would rather make out with an octopus”

“Well duh! Octopi are great kissers!”

“God you and Jay would get along so well I really need to introduce you two”

“Yeah sure I would, with one of your theatre nerd friends”

Virgil then sat up a bit. He looked between the twins with a grin.

“Oh wait, theatre nerds? You wouldn't happen to be the Roman my boyfriend keeps telling me about?”

“Depends, who is he?”

“Patton Corwyn”

“Oh fuck yeah! He's one of my best friends!”

“Then I agree with him, you would love Jay”

Remus grumbled something into his coffee. He sent another glare towards Roman as he set down his cup.

“Roman I know you don't know anything about courtesy, but you are making my friends uncomfortable, could you go do your messy things in your room or something?”

“Wait we aren't-”

“Lucky for you I've got a shift at the cafe in a bit, I just gotta change. Nice meeting you Logan, Virgil, see you later rem”

Roman gave a finger salute before diving into his room. Logan almost felt sad at his departure. He tried to focus back on his coffee and his computer screen but Virgil nudged him and sent him a knowing smirk. He glared at his screen instead.

“Does our bookworm have a crush?”

“Oh please do not have a crush on him he’ll be so cocky and dumb!”

“I, I don't have a crush, shut up, your apartment is just really warm. Shut up!”

He angrily typed away as the other two giggled at his bright cheeks. A door opened and Logan turned to see, and he really shouldn't have turned to see. Roman was wearing black slacks, a red button up shirt and a black half apron. And who said he was allowed to be so attractive? Roman gave him a quick wink before looking over at Remus.

“Is it my night for dinner?”

“Yes”

“K, I’ll text you when my shift is done and get your order. See you later”

“Cool, k, leave! I'm trying to study!”

“Ok ok!”

Logan wasn’t free of the teasing until he finally left.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Dream Bean! What can I get for you today?”

“Hiya Roman! Strawberry acai with extra whipped cream large please?”

“Ah, Patton, I see your taste remains a slave to the pink drink, it'll be right up!”

“Don't shame me! It's sweet and healthy!”

“And has no caffeine, but I’ll leave it be, promise”

“Oh, and a blueberry muffin!”

“Alrighty! That'll be 7 dollars!”

Roman loved his job. The dream bean coffee shop had higher prices than the local Starbucks, but they had better drinks and food in his humble opinion. The college students in the town were spoiled, they got discounts at the place and most alumni swore by the little shop. It was a staple of the town, and Roman had been coming to it for as long as he can remember. He paid no attention to the fact that both his friends had decided to nestle in a corner of the little shop far longer than they were technically supposed to. That is, until he clocked out, making himself a cafe mocha before popping over to the booth the two had stolen away to. He raised his eyebrow at them as he took a sip of his drink.

“What brings you two here?”

“Can't we just want some of the best coffee in the world?”

“Considering Patton didn't get coffee, and from the looks of it you got a hot chocolate with a shot of espresso, no, no you can't”

“Ok so we wanted to know more about your musical! Sue us!”

“Hmm, how about I tell you about it on a walk, if Patton tells me why he didn't mention that his boyfriend is friends with my brother. And why you didn't introduce me to Logan”

“Deal!”

Patton giggled as he brought his new cup of coffee to his lips. He and Virgil stood and followed Roman out the door.

“I didn't know your brother and Vee were friends! He must be Remus then right?”

“Mhmm. whole family of mythology names, my uncle's name is Romulus”

“Hmm! I haven't actually met him, Virgil doesn't bring his friends over a lot. But why are you more upset about not knowing about Logan?”

“I mean, hes hot as fuck, would’ve liked to talk t him more but I had to leave for work before I could say much more than hello or goodbye. He looks smart. Wouldn't take him for a creative writing guy”

“Oh he's a psych major, he wants to write scientific journals and studies and stuff. There wasn't a minor choice for journalism, so he figured creative writing would fulfill the same things. He's actually really talented, he writes lots of sci-fi and fantasy things, he's a huge nerd, but he's really sweet”

“He blushed at like anything I said, it was adorable. Remus almost killed me”

“Ok as much as I love hearing your tea on guys, I do not care about this near as much as I care about this musical”

Patton and Roman both devolved into a mess of laughter at JJ’s insistence about the musical. Roman pulled out his phone with a grin and gave Jay a sympathetic look.

“Ok, let me text Remus for his dinner order and then I’ll tell you all about it”

Remus just about groaned when he heard keys jingle in the door. He was sprawled across the couch, legs over the top of it and his head and arms draped on the floor. He was even more tempted as he heard more voices mix with his brothers. He shouted across the apartment when the door opened.

“YOU NEED TO STOP EXISTING, LOGAN WOULDN'T STOP THIRSTING OVER YOU THE WHOLE TIME HE WAS HERE!”

“Too bad, he's kinda cute!”

Remus fell off the couch as Roman and his friends walked in. mostly because one of them was hot as balls. He hoped beyond hope that he was the Jay Roman had mentioned from earlier. Jay had a face full of scars on one side of his face, and wore a pastel yellow shirt with a jean vest covered in pins. He also wore a deep yellow beanie. Remus couldn't look away as he stood up again.

“Oh! Uh hello! Roman’s friends!”

The other one smiled brightly, just about as bright as his pastel blue jumper and white suspenders. He held out one hand, the other filled with bags of food. Remus shook his hand.

“Hiya! I'm Patton! And you're the Remus my boyfriend keeps talking about!”

“Hello! That must mean that you are Jay?”

Jay stuttered after actually getting a good look at him. He nodded and smiled back at him.

“You can um, you can call me Janus! If, if you want that is! Um, Roman told us about the musical you two are writing and it's really cool! I uh, I know it's gonna be great!”

Remus grinned, and let out a giggle as Roman leaned on him. Janus hissed at him and swatted at Roman’s arm.

“Be careful not to corrupt this one, he's a baby”

“I AM 19 YEARS OLD YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!”

“And a freshman. This makes you babey. Regardless, I know you are also a weirdo who loves reptiles, and my brother has a collection that i'm sure he would be delighted to show you”

“repTILES?!”

At that, Janus started bouncing and god, Roman was right, he is babey. Remus grins and nods excitedly as well.

“I can do that! I'd love to show off my babies! But dinner first, I've been begging Roman to let us have Thai food for weeks!”

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @booklover223

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

#roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #duke remus #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #college au #familial creativitwins #logince #dukeceit #moxiety #tw swearing #tw cursing #tw ocean #my writing #my fanfiction

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saltyandsassynomad · 3 years

Text

Oh boy - I thought 2021 was going to be a “new year” but man was I wrong.

I started the year determined to make some of my dreams/passions come to fruition this year. As I’m driving down the road, heading back from my lunch break, I think to myself, “I’m MAKING this year different. I will choose to be happy and see the beauty in life. I will work hard every day to not only give Love and Light but to not dwell in the darkness. I am making my dreams come true. This year will be different.”

A split second later I hear what sounds like tin cans rattling behind my car. You know, like in the old movies when they’d tie cans to the cars of newlyweds? I pulled over only to realize that my tailpipe was the reason for the sound; she was dragging on the ground. I was in a somewhat rural area but was fairly close to the high school I was subbing at so I crept along and parked in the staff lot.

I called for roadside assistance and was told that my policy didn’t have that coverage. I was able to add the coverage but they put a five day hold on the service. Luckily this happened on a Friday. I explained this to the principal and he agreed to let me leave my car in the lot until the 6th day when I could have it towed.

Now I had to figure out how to get home as the public transit doesn’t go out that far. The closest bus stop was about a thirty minute walk so I made everything was zipped up tight and got ready to head out when the principal stopped me and told me that he would see if he could arrange a ride for me. Every school has resource officers (usually the local police or sheriff) and he was able to get one of them to drop me off at home.

Once the five day hold was up, I got up early that morning and called to have my car towed. Then came the next obstacle - getting back to my car. I had the keys and the tow truck couldn’t pick it up without them. Again - no bus. Being a substitute teacher I didn’t go back to work until late in January so I was basically off work for about a month. So needless to say, I really didn’t have the money for a taxi. I tried everything I could think of to get out there but wasn’t able to. Normally I’d walk, I like being outside, especially when it’s cold but this was too cold. It was close to 0. I had to break down and spend my last $20 to take an Uber out there.

Once the tow truck got there and loaded my car up, off we went. On the way he tells me he needs to pull over. When he comes back he tells me that my muffler and tailpipe have fallen completely off, no longer attached in any way. He drops me and all the pieces off at the shop. They are kind enough to give me a ride home.

I get a call from the shop the next morning and am given a cost of $1800 to repair it (I’m not surprised as she is over twenty years old & I don’t think she was all that well maintained). But seeing as how I have only worked three days so far this year and I only paid $800 for the car, I decline. They give me the number of someone else who might be able to do it for cheaper as he is a dedicated muffler shop. I call and explain the situation to him. He agrees to take a look at the car but won’t be able to until the following Tuesday as he is semi-retired and only works T, W, Th. I make arrangements to see him first thing the following Tuesday.

I hang up and begin getting the worst migraine I’ve had in a few weeks. I’m out for the next two days. Admittedly, I have issues with depression, anxiety, and mental health and this definitely did not help at all.

I get up bright and early the following Tuesday morning so I can hop on the bus and head to the first repair shop. As I’m stepping off the curb, I slip and go down hard. Instantly my brain starts screaming, “I BROKE MY FOOT, I BROKE MY FOOT, I BROKE MY FOOT!!!!” I’m crossing a busy street and traffic is coming so I quickly jump up and limp/hobble across the street. Knowing this isn’t good, I change direction and head to the closest ER. Five hours later, I’m sent home with crutches and numbers for two follow ups. They wanted to put me in an orthopedic boot but didn’t have my size. They didn’t see any significant breaks in my foot but thought I possibly tore a tendon or something.

It’s icy and snowy outside so the crutches were basically useless as I was on public transit but I took them anyway.

I made it home but was unable to fill the prescriptions they gave me because I wasn’t able to walk to the pharmacy. Back to bed I went with another migraine.

I wake up the next morning and hobble to the bus stop so I can get my car from shop A to shop B. It’s snowing outside but I have to leave my windows down so I can breath. If I don’t, I’ll get carbon monoxide poisoning (no muffler = no protection). Shop B tells me he can repair everything for about $650 but is unwilling to take payments so I politely thank him for taking a look and walk out to my car.

It must have been perfect timing because my insurance policy was about to expire and needed to be renewed; I have eight days left on the policy. I can’t afford to repair the car; my only option was to scrap it. There’s no point in having insurance if I don’t have a car. Grocery shopping, laundry, etc is pretty difficult when you’re on a bus so I decide to spend the next eight days getting as much as I can done before the insurance runs out. I do a major grocery shopping trip (thankfully I was approved for Food Stamps), get all the supplies I need for my furbabies, do laundry, and get appointments made for my foot.

I had two different appointments for my foot and was ultimately put in an orthopedic boot. A follow up, with additional x-rays, was scheduled for two weeks out. The x-rays didn’t reveal any signs of healing; I have bad feet to begin with and the doctor was trying to determine if the abnormalities she saw in the first x-rays were from the accident or if I was born with them. With no signs of healing that indicates I was born with them. The final prognosis was a torn tendon. But with progress being made, I was only given an additional two weeks in this super fancy boot.

Keep in mind it’s snowing and sometimes dipping below zero. Plus the sidewalks aren’t getting shoveled so I’m having to walk in the street. All while trying to keep my foot dry and warm.

I wasn’t able to sub anymore but thankfully I tutor two kids in the afternoons and that at least gives me enough to pay my phone bill.

But wait...the kid that I tutor five days a week, he fathers sends me an email that was meant for his teacher. The email goes into detail how he doesn’t think my tutoring is helping his son at all, how disappointed he is in my performance, and he wants to switch to another tutor but can’t do so until he finds a replacement. The funny part is he has said the same things about the teacher to me and I am his son's fourth tutor. The problem lies in the fact that they do NOTHING to help the kid at home, nothing! He has attention problems to begin with and he is in remote school.

Let’s not forget the father telling me that DCFS (department of child and family services) was called on him by someone from school. That’s a whole other story. Ugh!

I replied to the email and simply said, “I don’t think you intended this for me.” His response was to pay for the one day I tutored his son that week and cease all contact with me. So the main source of money that I did have is gone. I only tutor the other child two days a week. It’s better than nothing but it definitely doesn’t pay the bills.

I’ve applied at the other district right next to my house but they only have two schools in the district (it’s tiny!). I haven’t worked for them yet. It’s almost March and I’ve only worked three days this year.

So I’m basically unemployed, can’t pay rent or utilities, having a hard time getting around with a bum foot, and seriously struggling to keep my head on straight.

I see your 2020 and I raise you my 2021.

#mental health #mentalheathawareness #crazycatlady #footpain #down and out #i can do this #on my own

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skepticalcatfrog · 4 years

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Among The Stars Chapter 5

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Logicality, Prinxiety, and Demus

Word count: 3,379

Author's Notes: As I said in the notes on the first chapter of my other fic, I will still be continuing this one. So as promised, here's the next chapter!

Dalton and Remus sat outside of Logan's lab on opposite sides of the door. Remus was just waiting, but Dalton was eavesdropping, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the conversation going on inside the room. Logan and Virgil had been in there for a while, presumably working on repairs. But Dalton didn't trust this guy just yet. He wanted to make sure Virgil was okay.

"Dalton, he'll be fine. Better than he was before, even." Remus assured him.

"Shh." Dalton snapped at him, bringing his index finger to his lips. "I need to be ready to step in if things go wrong."

Remus rolled his eyes. Dalton could be so stubborn. Once he was doing something, there was nothing that could stop him from doing it. Sometimes it worked in his favor, and sometimes it didn't.

Dalton could barely hear anything. He could tell when different people were talking, but that was about it. He kept on listening though, just in case. He was entirely prepared to punch that scientist right in his stupid pretentious face if it came to that. He was also prepared to do it even if it didn't come to that. He didn't like that guy.

~~~

Virgil was sitting on a metal table in the middle of Logan's lab. It was all clean and orderly, unlike his usual surroundings. Based on everything he'd heard about doctor's offices, this seemed like the closest he'd ever get to being in one. It wasn't very comfortable, plus all of the circuitry on his arm was currently completely exposed. And he was totally conscious too, since most androids couldn't feel pain. Logan was muttering to himself as he worked on altering the wiring. Patton wasn't there, because he didn't want to watch. He said that it would've been like a human watching a surgeon operating on another human.

"This is almost done, and once I finish I'd like you to try to move your arm." Logan requested. He knew Virgil couldn't respond, but he just wanted to make sure he knew what to do. "That way I can see if this method of repair works. Your circuitry isn't particularly new, as you may have noticed, so many of my more traditional approaches to this issue wouldn't have worked." He went quiet for a couple minutes. "Alright. Can you please lift your arm?"

Logan closed the panel of metal on Virgil's arm, taking a step back. The android shakily lifted up his arm. It was the first time he'd moved in years, so he was pretty out of practice. The machinery made a loud buzzing sound as it moved. Virgil's eyes widened at the noise. Hopefully that wouldn't stick around.

"Okay, good. We'll come back to that later now that we know it works, for now let's get to work on some slightly smaller jobs." Logan wrote down a couple of notes on a piece of paper. "Try to speak, please."

Virgil did try to speak, and it went exactly as it always did. He heard the familiar creaking and rattling of his broken voice box, and Logan took another note.

"I think I know what's wrong." He discarded the paper on to a nearby desk. "A piece of your voice box must have come loose. Luckily, we won't need to replace it entirely. I am going to need to shut you down for this part, because it will be a much more complicated process. I might also fix a few other things after I finish this."

The world dropped into blackness quickly once Virgil was shut down. He'd never really experienced that before. His thoughts came to a halt, the world went away, and everything went quiet. It was like being in a locked room with no windows while wearing noise cancelling headphones. Either that, or it was like being temporarily dead. It didn't feel like any time had passed at all before he regained consciousness. He was still sitting on the same table, in the same room, but something was definitely different. Logan immediately got back to talking.

"I think we've made some new developments on your condition. I fixed the issues with your voice box, which we'll be testing in a moment. Other than that, you should be able to move your head now as well." He told him. Virgil's curiosity kicked in and he turned his head to the left and right, then looked up and down. He really could move his head again. Logan handed him the paper he'd been taking notes on before. "Please read the first few sentences aloud."

"Tests on android #229187922 ("Virgil") have proven successful." Virgil spoke, saying each word slowly. He gasped. He was talking. "He appears to have been made over twenty years ago, however the exact date is unknown. A piece of his voice box has been knocked loose, maybe from faulty construction and/or a fall."

"Good." Logan took the paper back. "How do you feel?"

"Different, that's for sure. Definitely good different, though." Virgil smiled. He had forgotten what his own voice sounded like.

"Perfect, that's exactly how you should be feeling." Logan nodded. "Would you like to talk with Remus and Dalton?"

"Yes." Virgil nodded. He might not be able to walk yet, but the progress Logan had made on his repairs already would be enough for them.

Logan walked over to the door and opened it, which prompted Dalton to fall to the floor at his feet. He'd been listening to them, Logan knew for sure. Not only was he a criminal, but he was a distrustful one as well. Logan kept his composure, ignoring the small bit of frustration growing inside him.

"You may come in. Virgil wants to speak with you." Logan told them, turning around and walking back to the table.

"Okay, great. Thanks for helping me up by the way. Jerk." Dalton muttered the last part so no one could hear it. He got up and dusted himself off, speed-walking to the table. Remus followed him. His tone softened a little when he reached Virgil. "Hey, bud. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great." Virgil said, offering a small smile.

All Dalton could do was stare. After years of stealing and trespassing to get things to help Virgil, breaking almost every law there was, today was the day. He pulled Virgil into a hug, just holding on to him for a minute. And for the first time, the android could hug him back. Just that simple action made Dalton burst into tears. Remus put a supportive hand on his back.

"You're getting better." Dalton pulled back and laughed weakly, wiping the tears from his face.

"Slowly but surely." Virgil nodded. Logan stood off to the side, knowing that he should just let them have their moment.

"And that's what your voice sounds like, huh? Different from how I heard it in my head, but not bad." Remus decided.

"Glad you think so, because there's no changing it without a lot more work." Virgil laughed.

"No, no, I like it. It suits you." Remus smiled.

"Agreed." Dalton nodded. "So what else is done?"

"I can move my arms and my head, but I can't walk yet." Virgil told them. "Hopefully soon, though."

"Yes, if I've calculated it correctly, the repairs should be finished by the end of the day." Logan stepped back in. "I will be able to fix all of your physical malfunctions. However, the glitch in your coding may be permanent. I can't access your programming from my computer, because there's an identification password protecting it."

"Oh… well that's okay, I guess." Virgil was clearly disappointed, but he tried to hide it. "I've lived with it for this long, so it's not a big deal."

"You're sure there's no way to fix it?" Dalton raised his eyebrow.

"Have you tried hacking the computer to get past the password? Or maybe giving it a virus on purpose?" Remus asked as if Logan would really take that as an actual suggestion.

"No, I haven't, and I don't plan to." Logan shot him a look similar to one a class clown would get from a strict teacher. "Now I'm afraid that's all the time I can give you. I need to get back to work. You can still wait outside if you'd like, but you can't be here anymore."

"Fine. But call us back in when you're done." Dalton did the universal sign for 'I'm watching you' at Logan, then walked out of the room with Remus following close behind. He heard the door close behind them, and suddenly felt very nervous once again. He knew that feeling wouldn't go away until all of the repairs were finished, so he just had to wait it out.

~~~

Meanwhile, since Patton didn't want to be in the lab, he'd decided to get to know Roman a little better. They were walking around the hallways in the lower level of the ship, asking each other questions back and forth.

"How long have you lived on this ship?" Roman asked.

"I would say about… seven years? The first thing I remember is Logan's home planet, Isethena. It's entirely man-made, built by humans a few centuries ago. We lived there for three years, then moved to a smaller ship and lived there for four years." Patton explained, trying to recall every place he'd ever lived from memory. "When Logan started to get more famous, we started to get more money. When we could afford this ship, we got it, and have been living here since then."

"Wow. I honestly wasn't expecting you to go into that much detail, but I'm impressed." Roman looked around, but the entire hallway looked exactly the same.

"I'm an android, I have great memory." Patton laughed. "What about you? What's your story?"

"It's a long one, that's for sure." Roman was about to go deeper into the web of lies he'd created for himself and he knew it. But to be honest, he didn't really care anymore. Even if it wasn't true, this was who he wanted to be, so why shouldn't he let other people believe it was real? "For basically my whole life, I lived on Xialea VI. It was all beautiful, with a kingdom covering most of the planet. Whatever wasn't kingdom was forest, with beautiful trees and plants growing everywhere. Basically it was the exact opposite of Xialea VII. I grew up preparing to take on the crown, which I never got to do. I spent pretty much all day either studying in the library or training in the arena. My parents loved me. I'm an only child, so I got all the attention. They were always so proud and supportive of everything I did, and they were always there for me when I needed them. Everyone in the kingdom was happy, and no one ever wanted to leave. But then one day, a couple of months ago, I was sent to the city on Xialea VII to have a conference with the president. Apparently they thought I was an intruder, so they chased me away. I had no choice but to steal a ship and get away, or else I would've been killed."

"You could've just asked, you know!" Patton pointed out. "Logan probably would've helped you, even if I wasn't there with him. He's a good person."

"I know, I don't doubt that, I just wasn't in the mood to take risks." Roman shook his head. Then he decided that he wanted to test something. "Speaking of taking risks, do you want to hear a fun story from a few years ago?"

"Sure. I'm always in the mood for a good story." Patton smiled.

"Well, it all started when a ship crash-landed just outside my kingdom. The person inside wasn't too badly hurt, but he definitely had a few bruises. We asked him who he was, and he told us he was a prince from another planet. We let him stay with us for a little while, and gave him a way to get back home. But, it turned out that he was lying all along! He was actually a gladiator, and had run away from his home planet. He told us he was just sick of that place, and he couldn't go back. After all, he was technically a criminal, and he definitely would've been punished upon his return." Roman was relieved. Patton seemed very interested in the story, and he didn't seem to realize that Roman was telling a story about himself.

"So what did you do?" The android asked, his eyes widening.

"Well, we let him stay." Roman shrugged. "He was a good person trying to get out of a bad situation, and we couldn't blame him for that even though he'd lied to us."

"That was a good choice." Patton decided. "I think I would've let him stay too. It would just be mean to make him leave."

"I agree, trust me." Roman nodded. It was working. Patton was on his side, even if he didn't know it yet.

~~~

It took hours until Virgil's repairs were finally finished. The whole time, Dalton was waiting outside the door of the lab like a nervous parent. At one point he was just pacing back and forth until he got tired. Remus was starting to get worried. Sure, Dalton always wanted Virgil to be safe, but he'd never been this concerned. The second Logan opened the door, Dalton was interrogating him.

"How is he? Tell us what you know, scientist!" If looks could kill, Dalton's scowl would have Logan dead on the ground in an instant.

"He is doing well." Logan managed to keep his cool. "I managed to fix his legs, so he will be able to walk. I also gave him a defense mechanism. Be aware of that, because he doesn't have full control over it yet. Otherwise, he should be fully awake and recovered."

"You should've led with that!" Dalton pushed past Logan to get into the lab. Remus followed him. The first thing they saw was Virgil. And he was standing up.

"Would you look at that…" Remus muttered.

"Hey guys!" Virgil waved, revealing a dark circle in the palm of his hand. "Hold on, watch this."

He aimed his hand at what looked like a makeshift target. A sound that was sort of like a vacuum cleaner rang out, then a beam of purple light shot from his hand. The target disintegrated. He turned back to Dalton and Remus.

"Holy shit." Dalton stared at the place where the target used to be. He glanced at Logan. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"He needs a mode of self defense. Based on the way he was built, he wasn't meant to be a fighter. But in your line of work, if that is how you would describe it, he will likely be getting into many dangerous situations." Logan explained. "With all due respect, he wouldn't last five minutes in a battle."

"Yeah, that's why he doesn't go on missions with us." Dalton said as if it was obvious. "We protect him by keeping him at home. Plus, do you have any idea how easy it would be for him to hurt himself with a weapon like that?"

"Actually, the chances of me hurting myself with this are only 15%." Virgil piped up. Dalton held up his hand.

"Not now, Virgil." He scowled, still focused on Logan. "I want you to make it less dangerous. Like, put a safety setting on it or something."

Logan shook his head. "I'm not sure I'll be able to-"

Suddenly, the entire ship shook. Virgil looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the movement. Logan froze. He didn't know what to do. Dalton immediately went into a fighting stance. Remus ran to the window, tapping on it rapidly when he saw what was outside. Whatever it was, he was absolutely mesmerized by it. "You guys, you've got to come see this!"

Dalton was the first to the window. Logan and Virgil joined him soon after. Outside, there were two gigantic ships, which appeared to be shooting at each other. Neither of them were particularly accurate in their shots, so a stray projectile must've been the source of the shaking. Without warning, one of them exploded, flooding the lab with orange light. Roman and Patton burst through the door to the lab. Roman's heavy breathing made it clear that they'd been running.

"Does anyone know what just happened?" Patton asked.

"There were some ships outside fighting each other, and one of them just blew up!" Remus explained, making a gesture with his hands that was meant to represent the explosion.

"They appeared to be built for war." Logan's brow furrowed in thought, his eyes still intently focused on the remaining ship. "Patton? Do you think that maybe the president of Xialea VII wasn't kidding about starting a war?"

"Starting a war?! He never said anything about a war." Roman's eyes widened in shock as he looked at the remains of the exploded ship. Then he realized that everyone was staring at him. He tried to think of something else to say. "In the time that I was there, that is. It was very brief, I wouldn't trust anything I say."

"Okay…" Dalton raised his eyebrow. That hint of suspicion didn't do anything to help Roman's nerves. "But why would he want to start a war anyway?"

"It could be lots of things." Virgil shrugged. "For resources, for land, to settle an argument. All we know for sure is that it definitely won't end well."

"Wait, you can talk now?" Roman fixed his confused gaze on Virgil.

"Clearly, but that's not what we're talking about right now." Remus answered for him. "How fast can this ship go? Maybe we could get out of this galaxy before it gets so messed up that it self-destructs."

"We can't just leave! What about all the innocent people?" Patton was quick to shoot down that idea.

"Well it's not like we can fight." Remus pointed out. "There are only six of us, so I think packing our bags and leaving is our best bet. Unless anyone else has a better idea."

"What if… what if we did fight?" Roman suggested. The rest of them fell silent. If he didn't have everyone's attention before, he sure did now.

"And how exactly do you suggest we do that?" Logan raised his eyebrows. "We don't necessarily have a government to collaborate with."

"Hey, what about your kingdom?" Patton suggested. Roman tensed up.

"No, that won't work. They're peaceful, they wouldn't want to engage in a battle like this." He was impressed with his ability to think of such a quick lie. "Logan, do you have a map I could look at?"

"Of course." Logan tapped at what looked like a smart watch on his wrist. Within seconds, a three dimensional model of the galaxy appeared in the air.

"If that's where we are now… and that's Xialea VII…" Roman muttered to himself as he examined the map. He pointed to a very small planet near the edge of the map. "Aha! That planet, since it's so far away from everyone else, shouldn't be involved in anything yet. Let's get a closer look at it."

As if activated by his voice, the map zoomed in on the planet. Columns of information appeared beside it. Unlike Xialea VII, this planet was covered entirely in buildings. Despite its size, it had a lot of people living on it. But what they were really focused on was the fact that it had a king.

"Its name is Illathea." Logan read from the list of information. "They seem to be neutral as of right now, so perhaps we'll be able to get to them before they make a final decision about which side they're on."

Reading further down on the list, they were met with the amount of time it would take to get there. 21 days, 4 hours, 12 minutes, 40 seconds. They were all speechless.

Finally, Remus decided that someone needed to break the silence. "So, when are we leaving?"

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @logan-is-my-spirit-animal @multifandomnightmare

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts deceit #ts roman #ts remus #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #logicality #prinxiety #demus #fanfic #scifi #among the stars au

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joachimnapoleon · 4 years

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How the (Quarantined) Murats broke the Internet (and Lannes). [Part 2/2]

Hello all! Here is the second half of my and @histoireettralala‘s AU on our Trifecta in Quarantine. (Part 1 can be found here.) ^_^

***

Caroline groggily plops into her desk chair, yawning in between sips of her morning coffee as she waits for her laptop to start up. She smiles at the sound of the sewing machine running from across the hall; Joachim is already hard at work making a new batch of masks for their friends and family. He has become quite determined, he informed her this morning, to make as many as he can, now that he's discovered he has such a talent for it.

She is secretly relieved that he has developed such a liking for this new hobby. Joachim has been delighted to be able to spend so much more time with the kids since the office temporarily closed, but at the same time... she knew her husband well enough by now to sense his restlessness. Joachim has always been bursting with energy and a perpetual need to be doing Something Important--not unlike Napoleon himself. Sitting at home for days on end, feeling useless, was simply unbearable for him.

Now, he has a purpose again, and she can already see the effect it is having on her husband, the added spark in his eye, the renewed spring in his step. And, she thinks, I've gotten an adorable new video out of it to add to my collection.

Caroline takes another sip of coffee as her YouTube page loads.

She nearly chokes on the hot liquid in her surprise.

Since she went to bed last night, her video of Joachim sewing with Letitia has accumulated... 12,184 views. There are hundreds of new comments and subscribers.

Caroline blinks. She figured Paulette and Josephine would be able to give it a nice boost, but... wow.

She refreshes the page.

12,192.

She refreshes it again.

12,203.

She decides to take a look at some of the top-rated comments.

@napoleon, 12:03: Well this was most... unexpected. So, when can I expect my masks?

@j.poniatowski, 1:05: MY DUDE

@ney, 12:17: very sweet, and kudos on not hurting yourself yet joachim

@bakingsoult, 3:27: maybe we can make a deal, fresh cookies of your choice for masks? PM me

@elisa.bacchiochi, 2:08: CAROLINE WE ALL NEED MORE OF THIS PLZ

@augereau, 4:02: My dear Murat, I think we could do a very lucrative business together; give me a call if you're interested.

@jeanlannes, 12:54: O___O

The majority of the comments, though, are from total strangers, many of whom have felt compelled to comment on the physical beauty of Caroline's husband. It would take far too long to go through them all and filter out the ones that go a little too far, especially as new comments are constantly being added to the thread. She sighs. At least most of them seem to be wholesome enough. And, anyway, it isn't like Caroline isn't used to this by now.

After finishing her coffee and refreshing the page one more time--the video is now up to slightly over 14,000 views--Caroline grabs her camera.

She has an audience to please.

***

[Three days later]

Lannes is not happy.

Aside from being bored to death right now as a result of so many days pent up inside, the masks he ordered from Amazon still haven't arrived, and wearing them is now required in order to go anywhere. The family's groceries are running low (except for their toilet paper; Lannes had made sure to buy twelve 24-packs of that once this whole thing had started, a foresight of which he was extremely proud). How is he supposed to go grocery shopping now without the requisite mask?

To make matters worse, Murat had entirely abandoned him for the past couple nights. Lannes is deeply wounded by this. How could his best friend just up and forget about two straight Skype cocktail hours? Especially when he knew perfectly well that they were the only thing keeping Lannes sane at this point? Even a flurry of furious text messages had failed to impress upon Murat the gravity of his neglectfulness.

Ten minutes later, a "sorry lol" was the verbatim response Lannes had received, followed shortly after by a "super busy" and then a "maybe this weekend idk". Murat had not even had the decency to reply to Lannes' ensuing "WTF".

If I don't get out of this house soon, I'm going to lose my mind, Lannes thinks.

He grabs his cellphone and dials the one man capable of helping him in this crisis.

"What in God's name is it today, Lannes?" a weary Larrey asks after the seventh ring.

"Doc!!! Do you have any spare masks?"

"I've already told you three times I don't!"

"How can you still not have any though? YOU'RE A DOCTOR!!!"

"That's correct; I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker. The mask demand has far outpaced the supply right now. Have you tried asking Murat?"

Lannes blinks, uncomprehending. "Ask... Murat...?"

"Yeah, I've gotta give it to him, he's been making some excellent quality masks!" Larrey exclaims. "I'm actually wearing one right now."

Lannes doesn't know how to even begin to process this statement. His arm holding the phone goes slack; the phone drops from a limp hand to the carpeted floor.

Everything Lannes knows is wrong.

Well, except one thing: he needs alcohol.

A lot of alcohol.

Now.

He heads towards the kitchen.

"Lannes?" the voice of Larrey calls through the abandoned phone. "Are you still there?? Lannes???"

***

Ney stares at himself in the mirror, studying his new mask. Murat had delivered it to him personally earlier this morning, along with a set of masks for Aglaé and all their children.

"Letitia picked the fabric for your mask personally," Murat had said with a wink.

"Well, I hope you'll give her my thanks. Tell her she has very good taste."

A giant image of the perpetually scowling Grumpy Cat covers Ney's mask.

Aglaé appears behind him in the mirror. Appraising her mask-clad husband for a moment, she nods approvingly.

"It suits you perfectly, my love."

Her husband's mouth might be covered by the mask, but Aglaé isn't fooled. His smile is betrayed by his eyes.

***

[Three weeks later]

Fifty-thousand subscribers.

And Caroline is only just getting started. A prominent blog had e-mailed her this morning about doing an article on Joachim's mask-making venture. Shortly afterwards, a local news channel had called to inquire about conducting a Skype interview with Joachim (and would it be possible for little Letitia to be present too?). Joachim had been reluctant to leave his work--there were still so many masks he needed to make!!--but Caroline had convinced him it would be for the Greater Good.

At Pauline's suggestion, she had monetized the YouTube channel yesterday morning.

Joachim enters Caroline's office, carrying Louise in his arms. Caroline greets them warmly.

"Did Napoleon like his new mask?" Joachim asks.

The last video Caroline had uploaded had been of Joachim and Letitia making Napoleon's mask, complete with her brother's signature "N" ornately embroidered by Joachim himself. His skills were progressing at a surreal pace. Imagining the look on Madame Campan's face at the sight of Joachim's meticulous sewing and craftsmanship, Caroline makes a mental note to forward the video link to her former mentor. See?! Caroline imagines herself screaming triumphantly at the haughty old woman. I was right about him all along!!!

"Napoleon said, and I quote: 'Tell him it's really not bad at all.'" She gives him a knowing smile.

Joachim beams. He's fluent enough in Napoleonese to know that this is high praise indeed.

***

[One month later]

Two-hundred-fifty-thousand subscribers.

Caroline's latest video--Joachim teaching Lannes to use the sewing machine--is shaping up to be their biggest hit yet. (She'd had to implore the two to keep their language as clean as possible; this is a family-friendly blog and besides that, it simply wouldn't do to put the ad revenue at risk). Her viewers couldn't get enough of Letitia and Louise laughing in the background at the struggles of their grumbling Uncle Jean to figure out "this demonic device" (as he called it). But Joachim was a patient teacher, and eventually Lannes had succeeded at making his very first mask. The video culminated triumphantly with him holding the mask aloft towards the camera like a hard-won battle trophy, as Letitia and Louise cheered and Joachim glowed with pride.

Now, Joachim is beginning to experiment with increasingly ornate embroideries and higher quality materials.

"Just because it's for a pandemic," he insists, "doesn't mean it can't be fashion."

***

[Three months later]

One million subscribers.

"Vogue?" Pauline's tone is one of total disbelief.

"Vogue," Caroline affirms.

"THE Vogue?" Elisa presses.

"Yes."

"And he's going to be... on the cover?"

"Yes."

"On the cover of Vogue."

"Yes."

"THE Vogue."

"Yes."

***

[One year later]

Five million subscribers.

Caroline parks her new cobalt blue Maserati, grabs her Louis Vuitton handbag off the seat, and heads into the house.

Joachim is in his design room, hard at work as always. He greets her with a kiss.

"How's it coming?" she asks.

"Pretty good, I think. Maybe another week or so and everything will be wrapped up."

After months of hitting the runways and photo studios of some of the most famous designers in America and Europe in the aftermath of the pandemic, Joachim has decided to pursue his long-cherished dream of putting out his very own clothing line--for both adults and children. So far, their videos of Achille, Letitia, Lucien, and Louise parading around and posing in their dazzling new haute couture outfits were proving to be immensely popular.

They have been floating the idea of live-streaming a fashion show to launch the new line; the participants would be their friends and family. So far, Lannes, Jerôme, Pauline, Elisa, Eugène, Lasalle, Bessières, and Poniatowski have all volunteered. Lannes' runway walk needs serious, serious work, but there's still plenty of time.

Of course, the children all want to participate in the show too, and how can Joachim possibly say no?

***

[Six months later]

Napoleon hates shopping. Primarily because Josephine always spends obscene amounts of money--really, if anybody ever found out just how many pairs of gloves she has--he lets out a sigh. It isn't just about the money though. Shopping for clothes is always such a hassle. Napoleon is a simple man with simple tastes. No frills, no feathers, no silly ornamentation--unlike some people. He just wants something nice and comfortable. Something breathable. Something that doesn't cut off the circulation in his arms or legs.

So of course, he has to live in the age of... skinny jeans. A crime against God and man. If he was in charge, he'd criminalize the horrid things. Of course, his ludicrous brother-in-law doesn't mind them. Murat is always delighted to have an excuse to show off those perfectly chiseled thighs of his.

"Napoleon! Come over here!!" Josephine calls. "I've found something you might like!"

I highly doubt it. He sighs again, but proceeds in the direction of her voice.

***

[The following afternoon]

Napoleon and Josephine arrive at the Murats' monthly garden party. Caroline has been renovating the place obsessively for the past few months; the spacious property now has a massive heated outdoor pool and vast gardens full of exotic plants and flowers. To the house itself, has been added a large marble terrace.

All this because she didn't want to learn how to sew, Napoleon marvels. He wonders how Madame Campan is processing it all.

Joachim and Caroline see the newly-arrived couple and hurry over to greet them.

Joachim's greeting cuts off in mid-sentence. His eyes are locked onto Napoleon's shirt.

"You're... wearing..."

"Yes. You know, it's really not bad at all, Joachim. You should make more like this." He gives Joachim's ear his signature tweak, before continuing on towards the food table.

Caroline giggles at the sight of her husband stricken speechless--the rarest of rare events.

"Come, my love," she takes his hand. "Let's go celebrate our success."

[THE END]

#Trifecta AU #Quarantine AU #@histoireettralala

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vssoise · 4 years

Text

A Long Overdue Diary Entry

So I’ve been in Baltimore three days now and I decided that today’s events were just noteworthy enough to warrant my sitting down to actually write this journal (diary?) entry that I’ve been promising will come for a long time now. I guess it also doesn’t hurt that being outside Dayton and being in a new place somehow makes me feel like I have more bandwidth and free time, despite nothing on my to do list actually being shorter/checked off purely due to the change in location. That’s part of what I was going to talk about though, haha.

It’s a strange thing; as soon as I got to Baltimore, my schedule has felt a lot lighter. Things have felt much more easily addressable/categorizable, like there’s Dayton Driven stuff, there’s medical school stuff which is basically away rotation planning and rotation planning, and there’s doing well on this particular rotation at Hopkins. And then that’s it! Nothing else to really worry about or think about or plan around. So as a result, it leaves me with a lot of free time and evenings to just use however I want exploring the city, or reading my book, or just binge-ing yet another tv show (watch Atypical it’s the best). But what’s weird is that, even while I was in Dayton, I had only the same things to think about but somehow felt way more put-upon, and busy, and like I was being pulled in so many different directions. I wonder why. I complained to Weanne earlier this week that my fellow rotators aren’t as social/curious about the city, and as a result that leaves with a lot of time to explore things for myself and make new friends. Maybe that’s a factor, that I don’t have social commitments? Maybe. Though if that were the differentiating facor, I’d rather have the social commitments over this free time, haha. It does remind me of when I visited Lili at St Andrews though. I remember waking up early, around 7am, and we went and had breakfast with the rest of her flatmates at their dining hall, simple fare, just a coffee and a croissant, while they made small talk, and then we walked back across their idyllic campus to their apartment and I read while they prepared for their lecture coming up in a few hours. I even attended one of their Recitations, or TA sessions. I remember the whole thing felt very... secluded? Charmed? Like the university and life there was a bubble to itself. Nothing else really mattered, you were just free to focus on your studies, the things that interested you, and the friends you had and wanted to spend time with. It felt very peaceful, and I remember registering that so clearly because I remember it being something I very desperately wanted in my own life at that time. Then I went back to Penn and somehow felt re-submerged in the chaos that was my state at the time. But I digress. My point being, I’ve been able to experience some semblance of that in these last couple days in Baltimore. It’s a new city, I don’t know anyone (or very many people, rather), I only have this course I’m here to do so the work is relatively straightforward. Maybe it feels like it’s a parenthesis from life generally. I’m not sure. But whatever it is, it’s interesting and nice to feel that sense of calm and peace again. It’s a pleasant, and welcome, surprise.

Otherwise though, the rotation itself has been going well! It’s only been 3 days of course but I’m leaning hard into my WHO experience and trying to make the best of my very short time here. I went to a lecture today by a Hopkins professor who works in emergency humanitarian healthcare (who leaves for Iraq tomorrow after having just got back form Kabul the month before) and remember feeling stirrings of those same feelings I felt when I listened to people talk or present their work at the WHO; his excitement and his interest in his work, the direct impact his work had on the people he was trying to help; it was good to find that excitement being stirred up in me again, especially as the last year and interview season have given me few reasons to think about that kind of career as a near future possibility. This rotation I think, more than anything, potentially opens a door for me to pursue this career more immediately than I otherwise would be able to, if for no other reason than the people associated with the school, like this professor (Dr Gilbert Burnham). And even if not, even if it doesn’t translate directly into the Prev Med Residency position I want here, I’ll at least come away with having had a chance to experience that ephemeral peace that I talked about before, and to taste that WHO style inspiration again, that I haven’t felt from faculty since leaving the internship.

As for the rest of my experience here, even though it’s only been 3 days now, it’s been very interesting! I’ve gone out of my way to try to learn more about the city and get comfortable in it, exploring its different neighborhoods and studying/working at its different cafes, and trying to visit a different area/bar during the evenings after work, while also trying to drag a fellow rotator along with me so I can get to know them better. I figured out the local public transport system after much painstaking googling, and even figured out how to use the scooter-share network in the city, which I’ll likely use much more often going forward, given that it’s so much cheaper than an uber. Today I was riding it back from the grocery store to the public health building to make it back in time for class and this old guy walking on the sidewalk stopped next to me as I was stopped on the street on the scooter waiting for the red light to let me go. He said hey brother, stay good, and then gave me two werther’s orginial caramels, saying I should take them in case I need some extra energy today. So I, of course, in flagrant disregard for everything my parents and teachers had taught me about accepting candy from a stranger, took and ate them during the class I got to on time.#noragrets

But more interesting, to me, has been my experience at my AirBnB. My host is a Rwandan doctor who works in public health and development (right?) and his friend who’s staying with him for a while, also from Rwanda, who speaks much better French than English. So I decided that since I was already capitalizing on the professional side of things with the host, I might as well capitalize on the other opportunity; so I asked his friend to only speak in french with me for the remainder of my stay. And this evening we actually had an entire conversation, and I don’t mean one of those “conversations” out of a french textbook where it’s just pleasantries till one you decides that you do in fact know where the library is, I mean a legit conversation. We talked, in french, about my friend who came by this evening before we went out to dinner, about how french is a difficult language to hear pronounced, about how mandarin is a very unique language and I even taught him some mandarin (again, in french), about indian cooking; we talked about how we felt about these things too, not just about the subject matter generally. I recounted to him, in french, that when I was learning mandarin in college, french was similarly a relatively difficult language to me, so when the teacher asked me to say something in mandarin, I’d say half the sentence in french and half in mandarin coz my brain just merged the two languages coz hey they’re both equally foreign to me and he doubled over laughing. It felt great to be able to convey a story and a feeling in such a way/fluency that it actually elicited the response I was going for in another person. Every time I’ve had a relationship with someone else in a language primarily not in english, it’s been with a relative. But this was the first time I think that I experienced a facet of a real friendship based entirely in a language that was completely foreign to me. It wasn’t my mother tongue, it wasn’t a language I had grown up with. But I was able to converse to a level where I could build the foundation of a real relationship, and not just that of a passerby conversation. Suffice to say that I’m back on the Duolingo, after my long sulk after losing my 71 day streak, hahaha.

All in all, I’m looking forward to what I can make of this rotation. I’ve got the same worries, about Dayton Driven, the same anxieties about where I’ll get residency, the same nagging thoughts about potentially not making the best of this internship. But I’m gonna try to enjoy this feeling of simple peace that I feel like I’ve been able to tap into after so long. And continue to polish my french. And keep trying to meet the right people and expose myself to the right classes and professors to keep broadening my view of what’s possible.

I think when I get back to Dayton, even if it’s just for a short time before I’m off again for a lot longer, I’ll ideally be able to bring some of my lifestyle in Baltimore back with me. Maybe it’ll help infuse my regular life with some of this much needed simplicity, or perhaps clarity, rather, that this life seems to have.

Or really, maybe it’ll just make me more susceptible to taking that snickers bar from the guy in the white van the next time he pulls up. It’s either way, really.

Till next time! I’ll write again soon, I half-promise : P

#blogpost

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