#i meant to go to sleep at nine its currently approaching midnight

[theseushasfallen]

No, because the most heartbreaking thing about any piece of Trigun media, is that Vash does not care if he dies.

He's been the punching bag, the target for so many years he doesn't know how NOT to be. He's been abused, and neglected, and shot, and unfairly hated for so long that he believes he deserves it.

"how do you keep smiling like this?"

"simple, really. I don't deserve to cry."

Do you understand how devastating that is? For someone like Vash, who'll cry at the slightest bit of kindness, thinks he doesn't deserve to mourn himself?

He'll cry for others, oh, anything for the people who've nailed him up as a sacrifice and, more than anything, someone to blame. He'll cry for his brother, who is in the endless cycle of acting and reacting and tearing open his own wounds and lashing out because he thinks it's the right thing to do.

He'll cry for a sinner destined to turn on him, his Judas who he'd devote himself so wholley to that it's only by that preachers hand that he hasn't died yet.

He'll cry for people who he barely knows, he even cried for LEGATO FUCKING BLUESUMMERS. The man who TORTURED HIM and gave him no choice. He'll cry and grieve for those shot and died and those who haven't died. He cries for his mother, who he hasn't stopped grieving over the 150 years he's lived.

But he never, not once thinks to cry for himself. He believes himself to be Atlas, or perhaps he would be compared to Yeshua or Prometheus. Whether it be carrying the sky, nailed to a cross, or strung across a boulder to have his guts pecked out for eternity, it's all for a people that are flawed and beautiful and cruel, for these humans who he loves so much he'll die for them.

In Vash, I see this.. passive suicidal ideation. He's not actively trying to get himself killed, no, he runs away from it as actively as possible and he hates pain, despite being able to withstand so much of it.

He isn't trying to get himself killed, but I don't think he likes living. Certainly not when life is gunwounds and starvation and endless, sandpaper thirst with no plausible end in sight. If he were to die, finally caught by something lucky enough to drain his life force, I don't think he'd fight it. Maybe he'd think, "I tried. Maybe Knives will stop now that he doesn't have a brother to fight for." And oh, he's so tired.

So extremely exhausted from fighting and kicking and screaming and grieving all his life.

He's only living, because of two things:

1.) Nothing has killed him yet.

2.) These people that have followed him expect him to live.

Maybe sometimes, he thinks, "would they miss me? Meryl, Millie, and Nicolas? Would Knives?" And he finds himself doubting every time. Doubting the place where a red coat and a sharp grin should be, if he were to disappear. He doubts he'll be remembered, even though he's made himself unforgettable.

He fights and he fights and he fights and nothing ever turns up for him, but he sees no point in giving up, and fights on anyways.

And he's always been kind.

That, is the tragedy and the beauty of Vash the Stampede.

[escapewriter]

Light of My Life

pairing : minghao x reader

synopsis : what’s better than celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday rapunzel style?

genre : whole lotta fluff and a bit of humor

word count : 2k

warnings : slight mentions of murder but its a joke

a/n : for minghao’s birthday😌 it isnt a lot like how i wanted but it does justice lol. also, lets pretend they weren’t by the ocean lol

svt written masterlist || main masterlist

You sat in your apartment opening the box you received from the mail today. Jun had helped you plan this date for Minghao for his birthday and this item would complete the whole date. You pulled out the lanterns that were in a plastic bag and scanned them. 

“Perfect,” You place them carefully in the picnic basket, finally set for your date with Minghao tomorrow. You heard your phone buzz on the table.

Minghao : hi yn, what you up to?

You smiled at his text, grateful that he took the time to text you even with his busy schedule 

You : i am currently preparing for our date tomorrow :D

Minghao : ooo how exciting. can i know what you have planned??

You : you should know the answer to that question 

Minghao rolled his eyes as he stared at his screen. Of course you would turn the tables on him, he always made your dates a surprise. 

Minghao : no fair :(

You : how is this not fair??

Minghao : cuz i want to know lol. 

You contemplated but stood your ground; you can’t tell him. 

You : guess you just have to find out tomorrow. 

Minghao sighed, giving up on attempting to find out what you have planned. 

Minghao : fine. but don’t think ill tell you what i have planned for your birthday. 

You : yeah yeah i know. dont you still have practice?

He looked at the clock in the practice room and then to some of his members who were sitting on the floor or standing. 

Minghao : yeah i should probably get going. its late too, you should sleep. 

You : i will dont worry. stay safe and dont push yourself. 

Minghao : i wont. goodnight my love, i love you.

You : i love you too. 

You locked your phone and took the basket, placing it on the kitchen counter. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day. 

~

You placed the basket with all the supplies you needed in the trunk of your car, deciding to make it a surprise. Taking the other basket that you prepared this morning with various types of food, you put it in the backseat behind the drivers side. Getting in, you started the car and headed to Minghao’s dorm. 

You tapped the wheel in excitement, you finally get to have some part of the day with Minghao before his birthday. It was November 6th, so it wasn’t exactly his birthday, but you did get to have him until midnight and that’s all that counts. And it made your plan perfect. 

You got to the parking garage and texted your boyfriend that you were downstairs waiting. After 5 minutes, you see the elevator open and Minghao step out, looking as handsome as ever. 

He approached the car and got into the passenger seat, giving you a quick kiss. “Hi,” he smiled at you, “Hi,” you smiled back. You began to pull out of the building, picking up a small conversation with each other.

“How was the drive?” You turned down the radio, “Same as usual, smooth, nothing wrong, I was safe.” He smiled, happy that you had a decent ride, “That’s good. So, where are we going?”

You took your eyes off the road to look at him for a split second before focusing back on the road. A grin creeped onto your face, “You’ll find out soon Hao. Be patient, you’ll love it.”

“No, I know I’ll love it, I just have to let my manager know because of protocol,” You sighed, “Is that really the reason?” He looked outside the window, playing with his rings, “Half of it, they told me to have fun.” 

You smiled and turned up the radio, “Shut up and enjoy the ride baby. Trust, you’ll enjoy it more.”

~

“This is nice,” Minghao sighed beside you on the picnic blanket. “Yeah it is.”

All the food in the basket was empty, mainly Minghao devouring most of it. “So, what are we gonna do now?” You looked at the time on your phone. Sun sets at 6:45 and it’s 3:50. You have three hours for what you have planned so it should be enough. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to get something.” You got up quickly and retrieved the extra basket that was in the trunk. You returned to Minghao, “Ta da!” 

“More food??” You laughed and sat down in your place, “No, an activity. Jun actually helped me with the idea.” You opened up the basket, taking out of the things you packed inside, “What is this YN?” He picked up one of the lanterns. 

“It’s a lantern. I packed all these art supplies so we could decorate them and light them up and release them. Originally, I wanted to do it at midnight because that’s when your actual birthday is, but the timing wasn’t right, and plus it’s dangerous during nighttime.” 

He looked at you with his mouth agape, “That’s so,,, thoughtful. I can’t believe you came up with this.” 

“Actually Jun-” “-let’s just give you the credit for now.” You smiled at him as he leaned over and kissed you on the lips. You held his face in place as his right hand was planted in between the two of you so he wouldn’t lose balance. Pulling away, you smiled at each other, “Happy Birthday my love.” 

“Thank you, I love you so much. Now! Let's get to painting!”

~

“My lantern looks like crap oh my god,” you looked at the blue blob on your cylinder object. “I’m sure it looks fine YN, just keep going.” You put down the paint brush and looked at your boyfriend. 

He’s been in ‘The8’ mode ever since you two started painting. He didn’t want you to see what he was making, so it became a rule that when you both finish, that’s when you present your pieces to each other. 

“I don’t know why you’re not letting me see yours, it’s not like I haven’t seen you paint before.” You continued to try and make your blob look presentable by drawing a happy face, “You know, when you took me out here in like the middle of nowhere, I thought you would’ve killed me, broken up with me and left me here to starve, or go cloud watching.”

You looked at him with a weird face, “Well for one thing, there are no clouds today. And two, I wouldn’t have let you starve, that’s too painful.” You finally looked up at you, “So you would’ve killed me?” 

You purse your lips, “Would you rather starve to death?” He rolled his eyes and looked back down at his artwork. 

“I get that Jun helped you with this, but like, how did the idea come about?” You painted mindlessly while pondering on an answer, “Well I thought of you and what you would like, even if you said anything. But I just thought about what you meant to me, like how lanterns are bright when you light them up, and when you release them, they float. It’s a really bad metaphor, but you’re like my lantern. You’re the light of my life and every time I’m with you, I’m always on cloud nine. Plus it fits with your culture.”

He was looking at you when you tried to sneak a peek at his lantern. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just see you try to look at my lantern. But besides the point, that was really cheesy, but I love you.” You smiled and put down the brush. 

“Well, I’m done with mine.” You looked at him, seeing him also set down his brush, “Me too. Do we let it dry and assemble it?” You contemplated on your answer for a bit, “Uhh, I could probably assemble mine because it looks like trash anyway, but if you like yours, let it dry a little and then assemble it.” 

~

Minghao just finished assembling his lantern after it dried for a bit. It was currently 6:50, the sky was just turning into various shades of orange, pink and purple. “Okay, wanna see mine now?” You looked at your boyfriend and he held his lantern behind his back, “Show me.”

He brought it in front of him and lifted it up, slowly turning it to see the details that he drew on. “Wow, it looks beautiful, I can’t really see it.”

He brought it back down and signaled for you to scoot closer, “This here, is the bouquet of your favorite flower that I got you for Valentines Day,” You smiled as he turned it a little to move to the next picture, “This is the tree that we sat by on one of our dates. The one where a bird pooped on you,” You laughed and slightly hit his shoulder, “I can’t believe you put that there.”

“How could I not? It was an amazing memory. Anyway, this is a drawing of our matching bracelets, I didn’t want to paint it because I thought it would ruin it, so it’s a bit plain.” You shook your head, “No it’s beautiful.” He turned it to the final piece.

“This is a picture of us, or a silhouette of us. We’re watching the lanterns fly up into the beautiful sky together.” You felt a tear drop fall from your eye, “Aw crap what the fuck? Why am I crying?” You giggled and quickly tried wiping away the tears with your hands as Minghao laughed beside you. 

He put down his lantern and pulled you in closer to him, “Why are you crying though, baby?” You sniffed, “Because this is a celebration for you, and I feel like I should’ve painted something beautiful for you.” You kissed your forehead softly, “I don’t care what you paint baby, as long as I’m here with you, it doesn’t matter.”

“I kinda don’t want to release that one, it’s too beautiful.” He looked at you with a pout, “but I painted the future.” 

You laughed, checking your phone, “Okay fine. It’s 7:10, we should light it up now.” 

You both got up, lanterns in your hands. Grabbing a lighter, you lit yours and then Minghao’s, “Ready YN?” You held the hand that he held out, “I feel like I’m in high school musical,” he laughed, squeezing your hand, “Keep it PG, we do not makeout in public.”

“Okay,” You rolled your eyes with a smile, “On the count of three.” You both gazed into each other’s eyes, “1. 2. 3.” 

You both let go of the lanterns and saw them slowly float into the sun-kissed sky. You felt Minghao release your hand before hearing jazz music begin to play and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, swaying softly to the music. 

“Of course jazz music.” You heard him chuckle behind you, “Well, you can’t blame me, it’s a perfect time for it.” You smiled and leaned more into his embrace.

“Did you like the date?” He hummed in response, his chin on your shoulder, “It was perfect. I loved it a lot, thank you for making this special for me.” 

“Of course. It’s, well almost your big day after all.” You turned around, placing your hands on his shoulders and his on your waist. “Happy Birthday my love,” He smiled at you, heart filled with love and happiness as he looked into your eyes more. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your lips, taking your breath away. You would never get tired of this feeling. 

Pulling away, you smiled at each other before he looked up, “We should take a picture.” He took out his phone from his pocket, pausing the music and switching on the camera. He held it at a low angle to get the lanterns in the picture, but also getting the sunset in the background.

“Say cheese!” Instead of smiling at the camera, you placed your lips on his cheek, him capturing the moment perfectly. “You sly person,” you giggled and quickly pecked his lips. You grabbed his phone and resumed the jazz music. 

Hold out your hand, “I believe we were dancing earlier?” He gave you a smirk and took your hand into his before pulling you closer, the two of you watching the sunset and dancing slowly to the sound of jazz.

[bleedingthirium]

Nines x Reader (Nightmares)

Um, sorry-not-sorry I wrote this??? It was an unfinished Nines x Reader that no one asked for. Okay, thanx, bai. (Quick note, yes I am getting to my requests! This was just something I needed to finish!) As always, sorry if it’s crap. Apologies if Nines is out of character; I think this is my first time writing him. The ending is weak but it’s midnight and I don’t care. NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE DOUCHE-BERRIES!

 Being with Nines was extremely difficult. He wasn’t the type that was physically or verbally affectionate. Normally you didn’t mind because you weren’t an overly affectionate person, you didn’t like people touching you. But you couldn’t deny there were moments where you wished he was physically affectionate in some form. Especially when you went to an empty bed most nights. Such as tonight. You had asked for him to stay with you but his excuse was that androids don’t require sleep in the way humans do, and to ‘sleep’ would also mean losing extra hours he could utilize and be productive with. In fair compromise, Nines stayed until you fell asleep, so he isn’t entirely inept as a boyfriend. 

You didn’t know this, but Nines literally watches you fall asleep. Not in a creepy way, but in an endearing way. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your hair slowly comes out from your messy bun, your top lip escapes its hold from the bottom, leaving the slightest gap to see a glimpse of pearly white teeth that belonged to someone with a radiant smile… He stayed for those moments; because they also calmed him too. As per usual, once you were asleep, he quietly left the room. Gently closing the door behind him before he retreated downstairs to the living room. It was a couple of hours into reading a particular chapter in a psychological textbook (for research purposes) when a sound out of the ordinary reached his ears. Straining his ears (or, more specifically, allowing his audio processors to work on overdrive), his grey eyes narrowed for a moment before turning his attention back to the book. Grey orbs skimmed another few words before the sound interrupted through his audio processors again, causing his LED to flicker to yellow. The fact he heard it a second time he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Slender fingers slowly closed the book as grey orbs lifted up to the ceiling, the sound seemingly located transpiring from the master bedroom. Eyes narrowed in concern. When he heard a more distressing sound come through, he snapped the book shut, placed it down on the table and made his way upstairs with purposeful strides. Your levels told him that you were still asleep, he was unable to detect any other bodies in the house so he knew you weren’t in any immediate danger. However, the sounds coming from the bedroom were quite disturbing for a time as late as this. He switched the hallway light n as he passed the switch so it would provide enough light for him to see without startling you awake. Opening the door to the room you both shared, he could visibly see your lower half squirming while your arms lay either side of your head; almost as though someone was on top of you and pinning you down. Small whimpers of pure terror fell from your lips but nothing more disturbing than that. Nines didn’t want to envision what you currently were through your sleep. His LED spinning red as three quick strides had him by your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers clasping firmly but gently around the smaller mound of your body. You seem to have struggled more upon the physical weight being placed down upon a body part, regardless it was an innocent area like a shoulder, but it still projected back into your nightmare. “Y/N? Wake up. I need you to wake up for me.” Usually people tend to be gentler and cooing with their words upon waking someone up in the throws of a nightmare, but this was Nines, he operated very differently from everybody else you knew. However, you’ve known him long enough to know that this was his gentle side talking.

Your struggles began to slowly calm down as Nines voice cut through the screaming that was currently filling your head. But it wasn’t enough to yank you from your sleep. “Y/N, wake up please.” A gentle shake to your shoulder had you gasping in fright the moment you were suddenly yanked from your unconscious state, and upon seeing a figure looming over you during your flight mode of fear, you whimpered in fright and struggled to move away, the blankets holding you captive. “No. No! No no no no no please no.” you begged out those whispered pleas as you struggled to get away from Nines. His LED continued to spin a violent red upon your reaction, and his hands immediately withdraw to his side before he got up off the bed completely, kneeling down beside it instead to place the bedside lamp on and to show he meant no harm. He knew this was a reaction humans had when being suddenly awoken from a nightmare, therefore he decided a more docile approach would be more successful in getting you to calm down and come back to your senses; hence why he chose to keep the distance between you both with him crouching down by the bed, allowing you the extra height of authority and power over the room. “Y/N, It’s alright. Your safe, you’re home. Nothing will harm you here. That was my vow to you.” Nines spoke in such a gentle manner; it had been enough to calm you down and refocus since you’ve actually never heard him speak in such volumes… it was almost human. Upon seeing you able to recognize him, he very slowly stood up from his crouched position and perked himself on the edge of the bed once more, twisting slightly to look at you. “I detected a disturbance in your sleep pattern; I thought it best to wake you before you reached levels of distress. However, seeing your reaction, I fear I reacted too slowly.” You didn’t say anything except stare at him with fearful big E/C eyes. Your lips parted, brows furrowed into a slight frown as you tried to explain yourself, but the tears decided to blur your vision before you even had a chance to stop them. They fell down your cheeks, one tear after another. You weren’t sobbing out loud, you just sat there in such a numb state as those tears fell like a cascade down your cheeks. You had long since stopped struggling, shoulders drooped as you stared helplessly at him. Nines didn’t quite know what to do. He’s never seen your this distressed before. He’s never experienced such an adverse reaction from you either; he’s worried if he reaches out to you to physically comfort you, that you would only be triggered back into that frightened state again. But he couldn’t just sit there and watch you suffer alone like this. “Deep breaths, Y/N.” He gently but firmly instructed, this order obviously not being negotiable. “Do it with me.” He offered, gently holding out his hand, palm upwards, fingers outstretched, welcoming you to place your hand in his if you wanted to the physical reassurance. And you did, which was why you immediately placed your hand in his. His fingers enclosed protectively around your hand but he made no other movement to avoid triggering you unless you were the one who initiated it. Normally, from grounding techniques with victims, he would ask them to close their eyes but given your current situation, he knew that wouldn’t be a safe idea for you. “Keep your eyes on me. Breathe in for me. Deep breathe through the nose for 5…4…3…2…1. Hold for 3 seconds, 2, 1… and slowly exhale through the mouth for 5…4…3…2…1… Good. Let’s do it again.” Nines repeated this with you for a few more sets of breathing, he was even loudly inhaling and exhaling with you even though he had no need to with his systems. Regardless, this helped ground you with instructions and a guidance. “How are you feeling Y/N?” You took in a deep, shaky breath and held his hand a little tighter but answered honestly; “Better. I’m sorry for making such a fuss. It was just a stupid nightmare.” Nines LED had flickered to yellow; he had calmed down enough now that your levels weren’t spiking to what would have been critical for an android, but he still remained greatly concerned for your wellbeing. “I would hardly dismiss it as ‘stupid’ considering your reaction during and after being awoken. Would you care to discuss it? I’m under the impression that talking about things is most beneficial. I’m not a psychiatrist who can interpret dreams by any means, but I can offer reassurance if needed.” You shook your head, you weren’t quite ready to tell him about it, or relive the memory. It was very…graphic, and it even felt like it physically hurt even after being awoken. Your heartrate had slowed down but your pulse was still a little higher than normal for you, so Nines opted not to question you anymore regarding your nightmare. His sole purpose was to calm you down. “It’s still quite late, perhaps a cup of tea might help?” “Yeah, that’d be nice.” “Would you prefer I bring it to you?” You quickly shook your head, your grip tightening against his hand, “No! Please… I…I don’t want to be alone right now.” He noticed your level spiked momentarily at the sudden panic, but he didn’t mind if you came down to the kitchen with him if that’s what you preferred. From what he could gather from his research, it would have been beneficial for you to stay in a dimly lit room and remain in bed while drinking a calming tea, hoping it would help you become tired easier. However, that idea seemed to spook you, so he hadn’t any quarrels with you wanting to be up and about at an ungodly hour for a human. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, his thumb gently caressing against the palm of your hand. “Of course. Let me get your gown.” You let go of his hand and immediately wrapped your arms around your legs as Nines went to fetch the white cotton gown you wore regardless of the weather. Admittedly the lack of physical reassurance was a little hard. You wanted nothing more than for Nines to wrap you up against his chest and just hold you, but you also knew Nines did not work like that. He opted to hold your hand instead and you had to settle for that. Still, it didn’t quite help the insecurity that was settling in the back of your mind; the same one that your dream had been based upon.

 Feeling a light material drape around your shoulders, fingertips barely touching your skin, you realized Nines had retrieved your gown and you were able to pull your arms through and wrap the material around your body in comfort. Hugging your arms tightly, you climbed off the bed and followed Nines out. Nines watched as you recoiled from any form of physical contact and so he waited for you to join him before leading the way out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen. While you sat on the barstool at the kitchen counter, he went about preparing you a tea. “Chamomile sufficient?” he asked, sparing a glance over his shoulder to see you nod at his choice of tea for you. Good, he felt better knowing you were having a natural herbal tea with benefits to calming and inducing sleepiness while being void of caffeine that can be found in the black tea you drink during the day.

Letting the teabag infuse in the water for a moment, Nines retrieved the teabag strainer from the top drawer before squeezing it out and passing the freshly brewed cup of tea over to you. He leant back against the stove, palms resting on the edge of the countertop behind him while he studied you as you sat at the counter island in front of him. His piercing blue eyes watched as your fingers wrapped around the mug and you seemed to favour cradling it protectively against your chest rather than drinking it. You barely said a word since walking out of the bedroom and you looked like you were about to cry again. “You look sad.” Nines gently said, and his, oh, so gentle concern was what tipped you over the edge and you finally let out a sob. A hand retracting from your mug to cover your face. “Y/N? What has you so distraught?” “Do I…Do I disgust you Nines? Answer me truthfully. Do I genuinely disgust you?” Your voice was rising to volumes of hysteria with each question you suddenly threw at him. “Y/N, we’ve been together for two years. I think I’ve proven that I fail to find you disgusting in any way, shape or form. Why do you doubt me all of a sudden?” You placed the mug down and dropped your tear-filled eyes from his cold, piercing blue ones. Hugging your own arms instead as your voice lowered to a hushed tone. “You haven’t hugged me; you refuse to touch me…and I don’t … I don’t know what I did…In the nightmare I’m – I’m not as smart as you…and you…I disgraced you…” “Enough.” Nines gently hushed you as he left his position from leaning against the stove to come around to you, pulling out a stool next to it and sitting down upon it. One leg bent with his foot resting on the steel bar, the other foot straight and planted on the floor. His elbow leant up on the counter while his hands clasped together, drooping over the edge. “You awoke in such a fright I feared I would only trigger your further by touching you. I must have misread your signals; had you required physical comfort; I would have given it.” His gaze softened slightly as he unclasped his hands and slender fingers reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “How could you think I’d ever view you as a disgrace?” slender fingers looped around your ear and rested upon your cheek, tugging gently to turn your gaze onto him. “Look at me, Y/N.” Hesitantly, your eyes met his again, and they almost melted beneath his gaze. Nines left himself open with vulnerability, something you rarely see him do – even with you.

“You are my priority. I have vowed to protect you with my life. At no point have I ever doubted your intelligence, your beauty, your heart, or the way you carry yourself every day. I love you.” Those three little words that Nines barely spoke had you throwing your arms around his neck, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond but after a second he wrapped his own arms around your waist and buried his face in your hair as you buried your face in his neck. “I love you too” you sobbed out, muffled against him. Nines quietly held you until you decided to pull away. By then, the emotions were beginning to catch up to you and you quietened down to a very tired state. Being able to read your vitals, Nines stated it was back to bed and even offered to stay the rest of the night with you. You didn’t mind this at all because it kept you calm throughout the rest of the night as you fell asleep against his chest. He cheated a little, however, by heating up his internal systems to a few more degrees warmer so it was cozy warm for you. He felt there was more to the nightmare than just tiny insecurities like that, but you were clearly exhausted and didn’t want to talk about it further, so he left it for now. He’ll gage your mood tomorrow morning. For now, he’ll watch over you as you sleep and hopefully keep those nightmares away.

[earamis]

Crescente, cum Dilectione

“You were bound to Hojo as a protege and mentor. He had trusted you with various responsibilities, some were praiseworthy, some better kept hidden. It was a mutual kind of dependence that benefited both parties. One day the professor granted you access to a whole new part of The Shinra Tower. There laid an unfamiliar territory with a surprise at the end.

One surprise in the form of silver and jade barely two winters old.

When you first saw him, the thought of witnessing the growth of a child who'd eventually change the world for either worse or better never once crossed your mind.”

Sephiroth x reader fic reposted from my AO3 account.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734419/chapters/59792911

Before starting to read, there are some things I want to point out:

1. I gain no profit from writing this. It is written solely for the heck of it, cause I think the fandom deserves more Sephiroth/reader stories.

2. Reader is female, uses feminine pronounce, and can conceive, but in terms of the level of femininity and visual characteristics, I try to be as vague as possible to give more space for the reader's imagination. So, please, visualize yourself as freely as you are possible to do.

3. Reader is called “Praenomen” instead of Y/N. It comes from Latin and translates to “forename”, so reader can treat “Praenomen” or “Nomen” (name) as Y/N, and change it with yours respectively.

4. I will try to include as many canon references as I am able and cater to the timeline of events accordingly (probably some tweaks of time here and there, but not much aside from the reader's part that will be added).

5. Please feel free to ask me anything or point out any mistakes that I make, I will be honored to answer your questions!

I hope you enjoy the story :)

Good day.

Chapter 1: Two Seasons Old

Rain had been pouring outside your room since midnight. The air of early morning hours became colder both outside and in. The corroded, rickety heater your landlord was too lazy to repair could only help so much. Chill seeped from the cracks between windows to invade what warmth was saved inside your blanket. You had been awake for quite some time, and been pretty much reluctant to leave the coziness of your bed. Pitter-patter of tiny raindrops kept knocking on the glass as you watched it with fluctuating sobriety.

The lids of your eyes fought to keep themselves open. Getting some more rest sounded like a really good idea. The clock showed barely six, and work wouldn’t start until nine. Yes. You supposed more sleep would do no harm. You slowly let yourself be lulled back to slumber as you gave up the thought to wake up early and actually do your laundry before going to work.

‘It was raining anyway’, your mind supplied. ‘You won’t be able to dry them.’

So you slipped back to oblivion with the drizzle of morning rain as your lullaby.

Until one and a half hour later, the loud ring of a PHS jerked you abruptly awake. You tangled yourself between the sheets and slipped twice in a hasty attempt to reach it. Swiping your unruly hair from your face, you flipped the device open, then instantly paled to find Professor Hojo’s name blinking on the screen. On what business your mentor called you, you could only guess. It was only thirty past seven, far from being considered late. Strange. So it must be another matter. You quickly fixed your appearance out of habit and cleared your throat before pushing the green button.

“Nomen!”

“Yes, professor?”

“Come to the lab, I must show you something.”

You looked at your state of your partial undress, then at the mirror to find your disarrayed reflection. Your eyes blinked frantically for a moment. “R-right now, sir?”

“Yes!” His curt response left no room for compromise.

You hadn’t got the chance to say anything for he hung up as sudden as he’d called. Stunned, you took a few seconds to process what just happened. But then another sound, this time a small ping, from your PHS broke the silence. You saw a following message from your mentor.

 ‘Bring the first volume on Mako Molecular Anatomy.’

That book was stranded somewhere beneath the pile of your hoard. The old shelf at the corner had been filled long ago with tomes of your past research. Dozens of newer volumes ended up getting stacked on the floor around it to accommodate them in your snug apartment. Under a brief glance, this part of the room might cause befuddlement, but for you, well, they were still chaos alright, but a neatly organized one.

The required volume laid at the bottom of a stack labeled as “mako basics”. You lifted the heavy books above it one by one, wondering if you needed to up your workout routine after all. You were panting like a dog barely halfway. An academic life really made it easy to submerge one’s attention. For years you’d been doing mostly nothing but burying your nose in books and scriptures. What free time you had you spent either assisting your mentor, writing your own research, or to catch some sleep, hence the embarrassingly lame mass of muscles in your arms. After nearly dropping the last book and toppling every towering stacks over, you breathed a loud sigh of relief at the sight of Mako: Molecular Anatomy and Structure Divisions, First Volume.

For fear of risking your mentor’s wrath, you washed yourself lightning fast, forgetting the idea of brushing your hair altogether as you grabbed a lab coat and your bag in one arm and cradled the book in the other. The sound of your rapid footsteps must be bothering the neighbors. One grandmother from somewhere in the lower floor shot you her elderly disapproving look when you rushed past her. You didn’t even have a care to say sorry. If Hojo lost his patience waiting for you, he’d ignore your reports for the rest of the day and that would be problem. He was a man slightly screwed in the head but an exceptional mentor none the less. He’d given you priceless insights to boost your performance time and time again.

You ran through the morning drizzle with the book wrapped under your coat. Shinra tower was just three blocks away. You entered one of the entrance tunnel reserved for employees to avoid getting wetter. A guard saw you panting at the entrance, definitely suspicious toward the disheveled woman holding a bundle of fabric this early in the morning.

“Halt!” The guard approached as you stood still to catch your breath. “What’s inside that?”

Still panting from exertion, you answered with haste, “It’s a book.” Hojo must be wondering where the hell you were at this point. That man did have some crazy standards.

“Show what’s inside or you will be denied entrance.”

“Oh, Shiva.” You unfurled your coat with slight difficulty, revealing the cover of a thick book.

The idiot guard was still unconvinced. “Open it.”

You blinked incredulously, what in Ifrit’s name did this look like to him? “It’s a book! See? Plain old paper!”

When the guard didn’t say anything, you chose to just ignore him and go ahead, but he pulled the strap of your bag, causing you to jerk backward. “What’s in the bag?”

“For real?!” Hojo would definitely be pissed.

“Entrance will be deni-”

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately in a sense, your PHS rang again, and it was Hojo. He was pissed. You swallowed thickly and slid the device out of your pocket. Answering him was daunting, but not answering him meant certain hell.

“Yes, professor?”

“What is taking you so long, you slug?!”

You peered at the guard. “I’m currently denied entrance, sir.”

“What?!” He screeched so hard, you had to distance your ear from the speaker. “By who?”

You looked at what was written on the man’s nametag. “Uhm…. Markus P., sir.”

Hojo spat at the end of the line, “Tell him to let you pass or he’ll be the one passed into my lab.” Then the professor hung up, leaving an awkward silence to hang between you and Markus P. Said man was dumbfounded. You decided to pass on what your mentor had said, then, in a moment of peculiar understanding, his face turned five shades paler and let you pass.

You muffled a thanks.

Down in the lower levels of the tower, was Shinra’s Science & Research Division. The floors was each designated to one specific subdivision. Environmental research would be at the topmost, followed by civil engineering, mako development, bio-engineering, and lastly were Hojo’s personalized research labs. Only authorized personnel belonging to one of the subdivisions might enter. Every subdivision hosted plenty of confidentiality that not all members were permitted to move freely between the levels. You were one of the few who were granted more access due to working directly under Hojo’s mentorship.

The elevator ride was long enough to give you plenty of time fixing yourself. You put on your white coat and combed your hair between your fingers as best as you were able to. Thanks to the early hours, you’d only have to pass three other people beside Markus P., and two of them were overtime workers already knocked out on their desks. Hojo’s labs were inaccessible via the main lift. You had to transfer into a private entrance beyond the common area. The machine blinked green when it scanned your fingerprints, allowing you to descent straight into the professor’s office.

“Nomen. You’re finally here.”

“I’m sorry. I was-”

“Yes, yes.” Hojo waved his hand dismissively, not in the mood to hear your ramblings. “Come here child, and did you bring the book? Good.”

He led you away from the main hall to a winding pathways even you weren’t familiar with. You had the urge to ask where he planned to take you, but thought better. Hojo wouldn’t have called if this was anything but pertained to his research. There was a double metal door at the end of the aisle. Hojo scanned his palm to allow both of you access. You looked around, this was definitely an area you’d never ventured into. Everything about it was unfamiliar. There was an open space with multiple doors on its walls. Several glass windows showed medical facilities and rows of sealed bio-pods. Now you couldn’t scratch the itch to ask away.

“Professor, what’s in the pods?”

Hojo knew exactly what you were referring to. “Those, my dear, are the chrysalis of my latest experiments,” he said. “Let me show you a glimpse of their beauty.”

Your course teetered to one of the door. He entered with you on his tail. From this distance you could see series of numbers written at on each pod. There were about twenty of them connected to one another and by a single gargantuan pipe. Every pod had a small window about on its door, about as high as your head, but the glasses were tinted in black that you couldn’t get a glimpse of what was inside.

Hojo stopped in front of one labeled P-XII-001. He beckoned you to come closed and you did. A panel on the right side of the window was opened. Hojo typed a series of code and with a smooth whirr, the machine came to life. The tinted glass began to set alight, revealing the familiar green of liquid mako. You stood on your tiptoes to try and get a better look.

“Chimeras?”

“Yes!” Yelled Hojo with a childlike glee. “Oh…. Aren’t they exquisite?”

You observed with keen interest. The specimen behind that door wasn’t anything you had set your eyes on before. It looked humanoid with the characteristics of a cuahl – its skin was patterned, extended whiskers protruded from the top of its mouth, and two huge feline ears stood above its head.

“Taken straight from Gaea’s Cliff, I have enhanced its ability to thrive amongst the harsh winter of the north. They are suited to conquer mountainous terrain as they please.”

“Have you made prototypes, sir?”

“I have, and none were as perfect as this one would be.”

Amazing was too degenerative a word to describe him. You always wondered just how he found the time to create this things amidst the chaos of Shinra’s busiest department. Moreover, lately President Shinra himself had decreed expeditions to plant new reactors in strategic locations. Probably half of the Science & Research Division had to be deployed and here was Hojo, managing everything under his thumb like he was merely playing chess. Even Hollander, the Division Head himself, was having difficulties splitting his responsibilities.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He said suddenly, turning the pod back to sleep. “This is not what I had intended to show you. Let’s not get sidetracked, shall we?”

The professor moved along. In deafening silence you began to wonder who else had ever roamed this place. Curious tools and paraphernalia were scattered all around. You thought the winding path would never end, but then Hojo stopped once again, now before a small metal door. He opened it with, surprisingly, a set of analog keys instead of digitalized lock system.

“Now…. I know I need not ask this of you, Nomen. You have proven yourself reliable beyond my expectation. But still, I feel like I must inquire something.”

You stared at Hojo. His black eyes behind the round spectacles probed yours. Aware that you were treading on the edge of something unknown, you hesitantly nodded your head. “Yes, professor?”

His glasses flashed for a moment as his chin upturned.

“Do you like children?”

You needed a moment to let the question sink in.

“Do you?”

“I- I’m sorry…. I fail to see how that is relevant to….”

“Just answer me.”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, I don’t have any particular feeling, or, um…emotion toward them.”

Hojo nodded, apparently the answer was enough. “I suggest you get yourself used to one.” Then he pushed the door open.

Behind it a view you would least expect to be found in the deepest part of a Shinra lab was revealed. The professor had stepped aside to give you better vision. You doubted your eyes for a moment, but as you moved inside, slow on your feet, you knew that the object lying right before you was, in fact, a crib. A baby crib, complete with colorful ornaments and a heap of soft blankets. Such infantile properties were clashing horrendously with the sterile white and grey of the lab. You scanned around it to find even more objects of similar quality littered around the floor.

“What is…,” your words were cut short. As you casted your gaze back into the crib, the previously unmoving lump of velvety blankets had sat up to stare at you with equally curious eyes. They were most beautiful color of jade you had ever seen.

And they belonged to a baby.

“Behold, my ultimate creation.” Hojo slinked past you, waving his hand to the tiny form in the crib. Said infant followed the movement of your mentor with alertness uncanny to his age. “My son, Sephiroth.”

Right in that moment, your jaw dropped. That was…?

“Your s-son…?”

Hojo pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose. His face looked maniacal with a grin splitting it. “And you, Nomen, are the only one besides me who’s privileged to witness the wonders of this being. Give me the book and take him out.”

You absently handed the book to your mentor. He had asked to get…what was his name...? Sephiroth? “Pardon me, professor, but I’ve never lifted a child in my life.” You gawked at Hojo with wide eyes, hoping for leniency, yet Hojo had buried his nose inside the pages. Just like any other scientist and their tomes, he was immediately lost, deep in his own mind. That left you with his round-faced ‘offspring’ alone. The little boy directed those jade irises at you, blinking innocently. That only served to unsettle your nerves.

‘How does one even lift an infant? What if I drop him?!’

Steeling your resolve, for the sake of your mentor’s trust and your career, you lifted your palms toward the child. They were slightly trembling and your back was damp with perspiration. This felt ridiculous in a sense. Sephiroth was just a bundle of softness oblivious to your inner turmoil when you were only supposed to lift him up. And how in Shiva’s name you were going to get used to this, pray tell.

That calm eyes flicked to your hands as you froze in your way to hold him. You swore you saw him tilt his head one side like he actually understood what was going on, and lifted his arms. Either it was an encouragement or a force of habit, you didn’t know. Since the party involved had seemingly gave you an explicit clue on how to handle him, your hands finally landed around his middle. And, boy, was he soft.

A smile inadvertently bloomed on your lips.

Sephiroth was unexpectedly heavy when you lifted him. Or you were simply weak. The living, breathing bundle in your arms offered zero resistant. You cradled him to your chest and immediately the scent of chamomile and all the things calming hit your nose. You’d like to think this was exactly how purity would smell if it had one.

“…the aforementioned properties of its distilled liquid will cause the chain reaction of so and so and such…,” Hojo’s mumbling took your attention away from the boy that had begun to suckle on his own hand. You were considering taking it out but the professor addressed you first.

“Put him on the table.”

You walked to the mentioned furniture and carefully put him down, feeling somehow reluctant. Hojo came next to you, dumping the heavy volume in front of his child. He opened a chapter on distilled mako before pointing a finger upon one passage.

“Read, son.”

Your breath literally stopped in your chest. You made a sound teetering between a chortle and a gasp. The sun must have barely reached a quarter of its course yet today had presented so much anomaly. This infant couldn’t have lived longer than 3 winters and his self-proclaimed father asked him to read, an advanced mako science none the less! What in the world was going on, you didn’t know. Maybe your glorified mentor had finally snapped. He did have some screws loose in that big head of his.

Hojo casted a challenging look in no way you were capable of defeating, snapping you back in place. You quickly realized your slip and was planning to rectify that mistake when an ambiguous gurgling sound was heard.

If jaws could be taken off its hinges like a door, yours would certainly drop to the floor.

“mmako…ditti..aion”

“In Holy’s name….”

The pipsqueak just spelled freaking mako distillation, with baby language!

“…te…a- aometioned poppetie isth dilled…,” Sephiroth made a pause, his nose scrunching in confusion.

“Liquid…,” somehow noticing his difficulty, you unconsciously said the next word. The baby pouted for a moment before he tried to copy you and continue the rest of the passage. You were so dumbfounded, you didn’t realize when the miracle had ended until Hojo patted your back.

“I haven’t described your responsibility yet you’ve done it so well. I was right to choose you.”

There wasn’t a word to describe how you felt right then. Years of assisting research under Hojo’s mentorship had put you up against some of the strangest conditions. But this, by far, was the strangest of strange. You swore not once the thought ever crossed your mind, that you’d be a nanny when you signed up to Shinra’s exalted Science & Research Department, still green and a living proverb of an ‘empty cup ready to be filled’. You guessed there would always be things left to surprise you, huh….

“First of all, I have to remind you that what happens in my lab; my research, your work, and anything pertaining to my son, is of utmost confidentiality. You are to assist me in monitoring the growth and development of this child. To make sure he turns into the utmost prodigy, will be your sole purpose under my wing,” the professor was kind enough to explain only what you needed to hear, as you doubted you’d be able to process much right now. Not after this shocking turn of events. “You, Nomen, are thus now a member of my innermost circle of team. Pack your belongings and move to the tower. You are to stay near my son at all times.”

Your eyes opened wider than the Gold Saucer. Whether you wanted to thank Hojo for suddenly exalting your status and career prospect or sue him for dumping all this responsibility like cold water without consulting you first, you weren’t quite sure. You’d be justified if you sue him for labor extortion. But all was good still. You were the one who sold your soul to the devil when you requested Hojo a mentorship all those years ago after all.

Such was the prologue to your newest chapter in life. It was brusque and unceremonious to a fault. The oath of confidentiality forced you to keep mute. Nobody was to know about anything, not your shock, nor your bafflement upon how to properly approach the change. Your mentor was the only other person who knew and sadly was better posed as an academic than a colleague. He’d try to analyze the workings of your mind before you even finished telling a thing. Maybe, you consoled yourself, maybe some other human being would come into the picture later. Although you haven’t seen any, you were sure there must be more people wandering these labs besides just the professor and you.

At the beginning of the next day, this particular chapter had progressed quite dramatically. You found Shinra personnel moving to and fro your rickety abode with boxes and boxes of your belongings. Mainly consisted of books and clothes, then a small number of trivial objects like your favorite chocobowl with its moogle spoon. There were a couple of low-rank guards supervising the whole process, to which their purpose was quite ambiguous to you, but as they didn’t try to piss anyone off like Markus P., you supposed it was fine. Some nosy neighbors peeped with curiosity, either wanting to know with whom Shinra had business with or wondering if you were up to some shady deals with them. You tried your best to ignore them.

To be honest, the whole affair of moving was inconsequential in a greater sense. You have never felt any particular attachment to your home. There wasn’t much to incite emotional fixation, except, perhaps the memory of peace after a hard day’s work, after shower, buried beneath the layers in your bed. But it was just one between too many discontents accumulated throughout years – for instance, the heater could do with some maintenance. Winters were always arctic. You were gladder to finally break free from an old routine. Taking care of a Promethean scientist’s infant certainly opened the door to new and exciting opportunities.

The professor had prepared an empty room prior your arrival. It was deep down the basement of Shinra Tower, right next to his son’s. Whatever plan Hojo had for you to partake in, he surely thought it out well. Accommodation was taken care of and its basic facilities already provided. The new lodging had a bedroom, a living room, one spare room you planned to turn into a study, private bathroom and a kitchen. Though not by much, the space was larger than your previous home, and most importantly, the air conditioner worked out perfect. The only downside was an absence of windows. Bereft walls gave quite the forlorn impression without any chance to glimpse beyond them and into the sky. This would take some time getting used to, but you would manage. Slum residents beneath the plates had it way worse.

When the last of your boxes had been transported down, you learned two things at once. One, your hypothesis was proven true. There were other people besides you and the professor roaming these lowest levels. Janitors and technicians, mainly the latter, had been tirelessly helping you. And two, Sephiroth actually had another proper, professionally acclaimed babysitter named Eredith. You immediately approached to introduce yourself after chancing upon her with the infant. She had offered her name in return before excusing herself with the boy in her arms. It wasn’t the warmest of welcome. You didn’t mind one bit. Simply knowing that she existed to fill that role had lessened the burden you previously thought was much bigger. As they went down the aisles, the baby in her arms turned to stare at you with his jade irises. You absently waved a hand, which, to your delight and astonishment, was replied with a grabby-hand.

The rest of the day was spent unboxing. You had only a handful of things to be unpacked, except of course, the books. Half were deliberately left untouched for another day of labor. The muscles in your arm already screamed with exhaustion before you could even finish arranging the unpacked ones inside the shelves. That left you with two boxes abandoned in the corner of your to-be study. Everything else was already in place by night. You took a long bath afterward and only after you were sure pretty much everything had been settled, you allowed yourself to relax.

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

You made a humble portion of toast for breakfast to start the day. Hojo didn’t require you until sometime around 10 in the morning. He had told you to prepare a list of basic science textbooks, preferably illustrated, for his son to begin reading. So you made use of the free time to continue unboxing. From this collection alone, you could submit more than 50 titles to the professor. The existence of multiple bookshelves, each one bigger than what you previously had, displayed the diversity of your collection perfectly. The books were gathered into sections of congruous topics. There were plenty to choose, you had a habit of buying whatever writings caught your attention, though when you finally thought about it, nursery rhymes and clean energy looked astoundingly disparate next to one another.

Just before 10, Hojo took you on a tour while explaining the nature of your job. Beginning from the entrance where you first arrived, to the winding halls and the rooms he deemed necessary for your work. He had programmed an almost unlimited access for you. Only one area remained off-limit for some reason. Despite your curiosity, you decided against probing further unless the man himself allowed you in. Sometimes not knowing was actually easier. The ones you were allowed to enter was interesting enough. You even thought to propose borrowing the bio lab for your own research. Maybe later after having familiarized yourself better, you’d ask the professor.

Sephiroth was waddling around his room when you entered with Hojo sometime near noon. Eredith watched attentively from a distance with his bowl of lunch half eaten. The infant had been engrossed by a stuffed chocobo that he ignored everyone else completely. The professor glanced at his son once, dismissing the babysitter with a wave of his hand.

“Pardon me, sir, but Sephiroth hasn’t finished his lunch.” Eredith tried to explain.

“Your time is up, Edith. Just put the bowl somewhere, you are no longer needed.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t leave right away. She gave you a look that could almost be interpreted as a plea. Either she was asking for your help to reason with your mentor or actually hoping you’d continue feeding the baby, you could only stood in silence. The woman received a harsher repetition of the command before she dejectedly put the bowl down on a table. She bowed to Hojo and excused herself. It was the silent frustration on her face that suddenly moved you. Maneuvering with three heavy volumes in your cradle, you called out to her as she was about to close the door.

“I’ll continue feeding him, don’t worry.”

She paused to look at you as if you had grown a wing. Her smile was subtle yet genuine as can be when it appeared. “Thank you,” she said with relief, then left.

“Troublesome woman, that one,” you heard Hojo mutter in her absence. “Sephiroth this, Sephiroth that. Always making excuses for her own incompetence.”

You’d been here barely a day. Everyone but Hojo were still strangers to you. There was no way your input on the matter would be credible, so you opted to make none. You simply headed to the table where the last half of Sephiroth’s lunch was, putting the books you brought right next to it.

“Come here, Nomen.” Your mentor gave you a clipboard. He showed the papers attached to it. There was a table containing multiple statements which had to be filled and sometimes rated from scale one to ten. “My son is unique. He is far beyond his age, he knows how to process more and more complex stimulus everyday as his adaptability runs high compared to most, mediocre infants.” You had never heard your mentor spoke with that level of pride before. “But alas,” he casted his eyes at the sight of Sephiroth not six feet away, playing with the same stuffed animal, “A child is still a child.”

Hojo closed the distance between him and his son. His figure towered over the boy. “He lacks the ability to focus on what matters.” Sephiroth didn’t even heed the other’s presence, still too happily hugging the chocobo when Hojo took it from his tiny hands. For a second there was this stifling, immovable tension going on between them. A battle of willpower between a father and his son. Hojo kept the toy away from him, staring the infant down with intense scrutiny. “Bring the book here.” You snapped out of your trance, scurrying to get the book for the man. He exchanged the book with it. In lack of a better thought of what to do, you just held it like an idiot.

The child looked really upset. His mouth curved downward, his hands made tiny fists where they previously held the stuffed animal, and his eyes…. You thought he was about to cry, but looking closer, those jade irises actually held an entirely different emotion. Never have you ever saw a baby held such anger in silence. Children are supposedly prone to tears and tantrums. Not with him. He, for the second time, looked uncannily beyond his age. It was honestly ironic because mere moments ago he looked exactly how any infant would with the toy you currently had.

“Playtime’s over, son,” Hojo shoved the book closer. He opened its first chapter. “You have so much potential. I didn’t go through the trouble to create you with failure in mind, so don’t waste your time.”

That immovable tension increase tenfold. You shifted in your spot, wondering why the mere scene of a parent scolding his child seemed to bother you. But then again, seeing as the parent was your mentor and his child had the tendency to be creepily uncanny each time you saw him, this couldn’t be considered normal at all, and you didn’t have a child anyway, you wouldn’t know.

“Make sure you don’t miss anything on that list.” He said to you. Sephiroth was still glaring at him from the floor. “All the tool you will require is in there,” he said, pointing at an overhead cabinet. “If you have questions, message me.”

“Should I call Eredith back when I’m finished?”

Hojo snorted. “Just leave after you’re done. This child gets too spoiled with her.”

Like countless times before, you shut your mouth even though you disagreed. That child was independent enough. Hojo just had illogical standards most times.

“I will leave you to it, then. Report to me later tonight.” Unexpectedly, he began to go. You hastily asked the man in panic. “Wha- You’re not staying, professor?”

Said professor sighed with his distinct flair. “I am occupied and will be for some time. The President require me. That’s why I must entrust some things to you, Nomen. I believe you can handle it well. Now, I shall leave you to it.”

Just like Eredith previously did, he was gone, leaving you and his less than pleased infant alone. You peered at him nervously. He was hunched over the book that looked too big for his tiny figure. The child still looked upset.

“Um….” There was that list in your one hand and his toy in the other. You tried to weigh the value of each. As you inspected what was on the list, you instantly thought it was both intriguing and ridiculous.

  PROJECT-S

Report: 07-10-1983

J-01.S1.16817.00599.000.6

Subject Name: Sephiroth

D.O.B.: 05-05-1981

Age: 2 year 5 month

 Physical Development

Cephal

Circumference:

Shape:

Facio

Length:

Width:

Iris color:

Teeth condition:

Brachium

Length:

Circumference:

Flexibility:

Strength:

(….)

The whole first page of the document was all about the boy’s physical growth. There were even 10 pages in total, things were quite normal up to the point where Hojo actually wanted you to rate the child’s understanding of certain vocabularies like ‘cathode’ and ‘anode’. You didn’t mean to underestimate Sephiroth’s ability as he had proven to be quite the anomaly just after three brief meetings, you simply found it hard to believe that a two-year-old had to put up with this level of standard. You shook your head incredulously.

Looking at him now, it kind of answered some of the mystery his uncanny behavior omitted. If Hojo had done something to make ‘his son’ biologically enhanced, he was bound to be different in some ways.

“Sephiroth?” He gave you a scrunched nose and nothing else. The child fumbled with the hem of his shirt under your constant gaze, as if hesitating with whatever he decided to do next. You were about to struck a conversation when his tiny hands landed on the book.

He began to read.

“In e be..begin’in o’ e book-”

“Um…Sephiroth?”

“-a in…indodooction o ele..men-”

“Hey,” you put a hand to cover the page gently. “Seph, stop for a second, yeah?”

He turned to look at you with the most flustered expression a baby could ever muster.

“I haven’t told you my name, right? My name’s Nomen.”

There was silence after your awkward attempt at introduction. He still didn’t say a word, just stared at you with the same expression. You started to wonder if he actually get what you said. The child got tired of looking at you after a few seconds and dived back into the book, but you were persistent yourself.

You plopped the stuffed animal in front of his line of vision.

This time when he looked at you, not only was he flustered, but his eyes also round with surprise. He was visibly teetering between holding himself back or just accept the offering. Almost a minute passed with him freezing up. To your surprise he pushed the animal back to you. His face looked so conflicted it made you feel bad.

You quickly put the toy back on top of the book. “Didn’t you want to play?”

Sephiroth now fumbled with his fingers. His pout was back. “Tis a test….”

“No! I’m not testing you, kid. Oh, by the Goddess.” Your lips turned to a smile. Without even giving it a second thought, you patted the boy’s head. He then froze again. It was unclear whether he felt offended by the touch. Do kids even feel offended? Alas, you began pulling your hand away, but he suddenly grabbed your wrist with tiny hands and put it back on his hair, looking at you with an annoyed expression.

He liked it.

Just like you would with a cat, you petted his head. He leaned into your touch with the same pissed off face, but his body was relaxed. You took the chance to shove his chocobo at him. Fortunately, he immediately accepted. The two of you stayed that way for a while. It felt comfortable. Your heart was warmed up in the face of this unexpected softness.

“I promised Eredith you’ll finish lunch, sooo…before we start everything, let’s eat first, okay?”

His jade irises peered from below your palm. He looked unsure.

“You can keep the chocobo. I won’t take it away. I promise!”

After he nodded, you immediately took the bowl temporarily abandoned on the table. He was nothing but cooperative and you were relieved for it. Sephiroth munched his food with the toy never leaving his hands. You utilized the interval between each spoon to start measuring the boy’s physique. He was quite the slow eater, taking all the time in the world to chew. By when he finally finished lunch, you had managed to fill the first page of the document.

Hours went by unnoticed as the examination process was carried on. He time and time again amazed you with the ability to maintain almost unwavering focus. He actually always wanted to play, sometimes allowing himself to take a toy lying around when your attention was elsewhere. But once you subjected him to another test, he rallied all of himself to it. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Somewhere along the way, Eredith actually came knocking at the door. She brought biscuits and a bottle of milk for the infant’s afternoon meal. The woman didn’t say much to you, she just politely asked to feed Sephiroth again and brought the empty bowl away. Nothing much happened after that. You allowed the boy to munch on his snack while you asked him questions or told him to perform some task.

At some point you came across the question of whether Sephiroth understood some terms written on the paper – the cathode and anode one. You sighed exasperatedly. The child was currently drawing something resembling his favorite stuffed animal, if you weren’t mistaken. You leaned over him, asking just for sure, “Is that your chocobo?”

“Uh-huh.”

You nodded appreciatively. His skill was decent enough for his drawing to be understood. That indicated a capability to understand and replicate the existence of objects around him. You quickly took a note.

“Um…kid?”

“Hm?”

“Can you read these two words for me?” You showed the nouns for him to spell. He studied them momentarily and tried. “Ca’ffode an’ an….”

“Anode.”

“…aode.”

“That’s right,” you gave him a smile and another pat on the head. “Do you know what they mean?”

He shook his head hesitantly.

“Alright….” You thought to yourself the best way of explaining it to him. “Do you know battery?”

“Un…yea.”

“Cathode is the part of a battery that has the [+] symbol, while anode has [-].”

Sephiroth stared at you silently. He didn’t seem to get what you mean, so you looked around. Amidst the toy lying around was a fake gun, colored in bright colors appealing to children. You took it and opened the battery case.

“Here, look, there’s a [+] sign here and a [-] sign. This one is the cathode and this one is anode. The battery has power, it runs to the gun from here to here. Without one of these two, the power is stuck in one side, just like a road that’s blocked.”

“They…’re like ‘oors?”

You smiled fondly, “Yes, yes! They’re like doors. If they’re not set in properly, the power from the battery won’t flow to the gun, just like one can’t pass through a door if it’s not opened.”

The boy was astute. You never had to explain things twice as long as you gave him a good example. Filling the rest of the document became nothing but a breeze. Before you knew it, you had completed the day’s report. Sephiroth also looked bored, the chocobo was back in his cradle as he laid on the floor, his tiny fingers fumbled with its feathery butt. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. This was the first time you interacted with him and you could already see various shades of his personality. At times, his calm demeanor and self-restraint made you feel like there was someone much older trapped inside that tiny body, then there were also times like these, when he behaved innocently like every other child in the Planet did. He was highly intriguing at such a young age and you dared to bet he would continue to be so when he grows up.

Having nothing else to do left but gawk at the tiny fluff caressing a chocobo butt, you took another brief moment to appreciate it before preparing to leave. Your task was over technically, but you couldn’t help feeling like there was more you could do. Then an idea struck your mind.

“Seph, stay here, okay? I’m gonna get something for you.”

You hurried to your room, heading straight to the bookshelves. At the children’s section was a compilation of nursery rhymes and tales. You scanned the titles with keen eyes, finding the one you were looking for right away, then quickly headed back to Sephiroth’s. The boy was still on his back when you returned. You approached him with an enthusiastic smile plastered on your face.

“Look what I’ve got.”

The boy looked at you half-heartedly. He was definitely done for the day. Then he saw the book you had brought. He quickly sat up to take it.

Below the title – Pickle in a Fickle! – was a picture of one golden chocobo, just like his toy, staring at two gysahl greens completely bamboozled. “Chochobo!” Sephiroth pointed at the character.

“Yes, the same as yours. His name is Pickle.”

“’ickle…,” the boy copied. He wasted no time opening it, eyes seemingly glittering with wonder to see illustrated pages instead of black and white passages. You waited patiently for him to start reading. But the moment he saw some passages, he pouted.

You blinked in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“’m tired weadin’.”

Ah…. That made sense. He’d been forced to spell hundreds of words in a day. Some people didn’t even bother to read. The young boy had accomplished nothing short of a feat. You supposed he was justified to call it a day.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”

His giddiness was back instantaneously, “Yea! Wead it!”

So began your habit of bringing children’s books to him. He spent morning ‘till sundown doing his best with the examination and you rewarded him with new tale almost every day. He was always tired by the end that you had to read to him. The young boy listened with rapt attention, sometimes sitting beside you while playing with Pickle – he named his chocobo after you narrated the story, some other time getting into your lap to see the pages as you read.

Eredith started to give you smiles that grew bigger each time you saw her, though you two still hadn’t talked much aside from some pleasantries and formalities. She was always there when you came in the morning, then proceeded to make herself scarce all day long, only coming in once or twice to deliver foods and drinks. By sundown, you’d be bidding little Seph a goodbye. Eredith was already by the door when you exited. You nodded your head politely and let her be to do her job.

By night, Hojo would call you to his office and ask for report. He’d inspect the document you filled every single day, taking notes of certain aspects that he deemed significant. The professor was overall pleased with his son’s progress, seemingly unaware of the new habit you had helped him build. If your mentor knew anything about you adding non-academic books – nonsense jabberwockies, he’d said – to his son’s curriculum, he had certainly done nothing to stop it.

Sephiroth had become much more open to you after a month of constant meeting. He would happily stand by the door every day at 10 o’clock, the time you were supposed to get in. He kept urging you to hurry with the tests so he gets to hear another story. You gladly did as he asked, it was a win-win situation for all anyway. The effects of your diligence was showing and it affected everyone. Hojo rarely spoke harshly to his son nor Eredith, he gave you a raise, and most importantly, approved your proposal to borrow the bio lab for the sake of your own research. He didn’t question your intentions much, simply asked you to not let it hinder your main responsibility with Sephiroth. He only allowed you to use them at night when you were done reporting. Without hesitation you agreed.

Life became much easier than ever before. For once things were actually going the right way. You couldn’t be more grateful, to the professor, to fate, and to the fluff of silver and jade who was the reason of it all. By the time you went to bed, the only thing that came to your mind was which story you should bring tomorrow.

[forgetspecifics]

Because I’ve lost control of my life (Bumbleby one-shot)

Prompt fill for @kuchenjaeger​

Prompt: Blake or Yang (writer’s choice) is pregnant, and wakes up in the middle of the night craving something crazy. The other goes out to fulfill this request, but the journey is not nearly as smooth as expected. She returns home and the other is either: a) asleep; b) wants something else; or c) isn’t hungry anymore.

Other links: Ao3 FF.net

Notes:  Here’s to you, Kuchenjaeger! Hope ya like it. I threw in all the stops for this one ;)

Yang was having the nicest dream. Don’t get her wrong, she loved her wife very much. And she also loved that her wife loved her equally. And most of all, she loved that her love was currently carrying their child thanks to wacky-new-fandangled-technology-assistance.

But it was a lovely dream. Emphasis also on the was – because she was being woken up from dream Blake that wanted sexy-time by real Blake, who hadn’t wanted sexy times for months.

And that was why she was reassuring herself that she loved the woman that was poking and prodding her in all the wrong places.

“Yang, the light to my darkness, love of my life,” an all-too-familiar voice crooned in her ear. Familiar because that was Blake’s I’m about to request of you something ridiculous and I know you’ll do it because you love me voice. To be fair, the Faunus was carrying a freakin’ baby. Their baby! Of course she’d do anything Blake asked. This was leagues easier than when she had to throw down her limbs and her life to a crazy terrorist with an affinity for being way too edgy.

Now, Yang wasn’t really contemplating what was about to be asked of her; she’d just woken up. And the sooner she did it, maybe she’d be able to get back to sleep and get a do-over on that hot dream. She did, however, manage to string together a coherent answer. “Blake, devourer of tuna, number one best booty at Beacon. Do you need something?”

The blonde, still in her prime – but lacking an occupied uterus – felt Blake’s second trimester baby bump against her toned stomach. And her pregnancy-enlarged breasts – but those…

…she tried to ignore those.

“I’m craving something,” Blake started, Yang’s own mind instantly jumping into high-gear of its own volition. Before her body could catch up, thankfully, her wife clarified, “that horrible chocolate pudding that we used to get in the cafeteria.”

“But that was terrible pudding,” Yang said, confused as to why she’d want that. She had just claimed it was bad herself.

“And cheese puffs,” Blake went on, ignoring any flaw in logic. “Can you go to that twenty-four-hour place, the one with the shitty coffee, and get me some?” These were not normal grocery items for them. They avoided most unhealthy snacks, and the nasty pudding from their school-years. The hormonal part of Blake wanted Yang to say yes, and her rational side also wanted a yes. She expected a no. Yet, she got a kiss on the face; it missed its mark due to lack of sight from Yang, and then her source of warmth rolled away.

“Gross pudding and cheese doodles. Got it, baby mama,” her devout wife listed her checklist (deliberately saying doodles and not puffs; Blake never called them cheese doodles because Yang always giggled if she did), fumbling around to get dressed. Blake admired, with her blessed night-vision, Yang’s wondrous body. While she may not have been particularly eager to be intimate during her first trimester – morning sickness could make you hate doing anything, she still could appreciate the female form. And the fact that this female didn’t make as much as a peep about their lacklustre sex life. Or all the extra things she had to do over the course of the pregnancy. Blake felt extremely lucky to be healthy, happy, and loved.

“I love you, you know that?”

Yang smiled. “I love you too, Blake,” she winked and blew a kiss as she closed their bedroom door on her way out.

Yep, she was truly lucky.

Resigning herself to her task, Yang searched up the closest store to their small, but quaint, house. It wasn’t that late to begin with – they’d been acting like an elderly couple lately and going to bed at nine o’clock – and she figured she could get by with something closer than the all-hours store. A closer store meant a quicker trip. Opting to fit in a nice leisurely jog; she’d been lax with her exercise routine lately and she was already awake, Yang grabbed her house keys, lien, and put some sneakers on before heading out.

Again, she hadn’t considered anything in-between of leaving, getting to the store, and getting back – but the small neighbourhood streets were quiet, so there was nobody around.

And for once, it was relaxing to be a woman on a mission for Blake Belladonna.

The steady thump of her shoes; the small creaks of one of her prosthetic limb’s joints (she’d also been ignoring its maintenance just like her fitness); that was all she could hear. Except her own breathing, which seemed to be getting heavier as she went on, but nobody else needed to know that. As she got closer to the busier center of Vale, the sky lost its sheen of darkness and the glow of the city took over. The noise increased, but that was only thanks to the slightly seedier nightlife of the clubs she once considered her stomping grounds (in all sense of the word).

Yang checked her scroll, the map guiding her to the shop that was meant to be open until midnight. The clock was approaching twelve a.m., and she’d made pretty good time on her fifteen-minute run, so there was nothing to worry about.

As she slowed her legs to a brisk walk – hoping she wouldn’t get a cramp because it had been a bad idea not to stretch beforehand – the bright flickering sign of the store welcomed Yang Xiao Long to the promised land. Not letting the pumping of her heart or the pounding of her pulse rest for too long, she powered ahead to the glass doors to be greeted by the ding as they opened.

But there was no ding, and they did not open.

In fact, they rattled unforgivingly as Yang smacked right into them. But it wasn’t midnight yet! Lo and behold, the store declared itself CLOSED with the little hanging sign. Curse that little hanging sign, her mind raged. The lights were all still on! Some asshole was closing up early while she had a pregnant wife to please! Yang pounded her metal fist into the frame of the door in frustration, only then noticing the store attendant jump from behind their hiding place at the register. Then she realised that she’d probably scared them shitless with her collision, and again with the powerful robotic limb.

“Wait, no, don’t be freaked out! Please, I just want to get pudding for my pregnant wife!”

Alas, it was too late to make amends; the lights suddenly cut out and Yang was left staring helplessly into nothingness. The attendant likely hoped she hadn’t seen them, since she probably looked like she wanted to rob them or was just plain homeless.

God fucking dammit.

Begrudgingly, Yang took out her scroll again, and searched up the twenty-four-hour store that Blake had told her to go to in the first place. Maybe this was a lesson of listen to your wife, idiot. The correct store was another fifteen minutes away, but that was if she took the main roads. Yang could easily just cut through the city blocks using dingey alleyways. Giving herself a little mercy-time to stretch her muscles a bit, she took off again towards the new promised land.

Just her luck, the convenience store was just that – for convenience. And that meant it was smack-bang in-between all the dumb bars and clubs, able to attract drunk customers looking for a midnight (or later) snack. Which meant drunk customers would be out and about, undoubtedly. It wasn’t like she was dressed to impress, but there was no type of clothing that would deter someone looking for an easy catch. Not to mention the crooks just hoping to find someone drunk enough that they’d be mugged before they could even process what was going on.

Coincidentally, as she entered an alley, there were a couple of hooded figures hanging out at the other end. Not like Yang couldn’t handle herself, but she’d already had one set back and was not in the mood for any more.

As she approached the group, one turned towards her, giving a slight wave. “Hey blondie, got a second?”

Because that sounded inconspicuous. “Sorry, I don’t,” Yang kept on moving, but the other ones blocked the exit.

The man spoke from beneath his hood again. “Now come on, we just need some spare change, you don’t gotta be rude.”

“Look, you don’t wanna do this. I have intentions for my lien, and if you just let me go, on the way back I’ll give you whatever’s left. I don’t have the patience for this tonight,” Yang bartered with the thugs, knowing it’d be quicker to bypass a fight – but also knowing it was wishful thinking.

He chuckled, obviously not fazed by her subtle warnings. “What makes you think you’re in a position to negotiate?”

“What makes you think you’re able to beat me? I’ve fought a chick that was half your size, that used an umbrella as a weapon, that was more intimidating than all of you chumps put together,” Yang took a few more steps. Chumps never learn. If she had to take her frustrations out on some low-lives that asked for it, then she’d do it. It’d probably take more energy to outrun them than take them down.

The moonlight caught the reflective edge of a knife that he procured from nowhere. Little did he know, she was more than capable of winning a fistfight, even if they had brought a weapon. “I hope you boys have good insurance,” Yang smirked as she was lunged at. There was a loud shink as she let the blade cut through her thin overshirt and slide along her metal arm, surprise flitting across the man’s face as she quickly used that to her advantage. She grabbed his arm in her unrelenting metallic grip, twisting it until he cried out in pain, Yang taking the knife with her other hand as he was rendered immobile.

“Care to reconsider?” She asked the shocked group; simultaneously making an example of their disarmed friend by wrenching his arm a little more which elicited another indignant yell. The rest of them exchanged glances and a few nodded, before the ringleader succumbed to his discomfort.

“Alright, alright! Let me go!”

Yang shoved him away, taking his weapon and showing off just what she could do – she held the knife by the handle with her flesh and blood hand, warping and finally snapping the cutting edge with the strength of her prosthetic. “The next time I snap something, it’ll be a bone. Don’t make me send you to the hospital,” the broken knife cluttered to the ground, the men shakily chanting sorry ma’am before scattering away. “That’s sir to…” Yang realised there was nobody around to hear her quip.

“Ah, forget it.”

The hustle and bustle of Vale’s nightlife greeted Yang as she finally met the road that she needed to be on. This was the busiest street she had encountered, and as she expected, there were patrons galore. She had to get past all these nuances to get to the store.

The atmosphere of the night being very much alive, many clubs and bars had a few people lining up, those ones being unlucky enough to not get inside. There were a few too-young women and men she could see as she passed by numerous hotspots, and there was a plethora of adults at the calmer joints too. These people may have been unfortunate in their efforts to gain access to these establishments, but Yang thought herself worse off as they decided to cure their boredom by bothering anybody that happened to be in their vicinity. To top that off, she’d reached a pedestrian crossing that gave her the little red man as a nice fuck you in particular, leaving her with nowhere to run as they made some unsavoury propositions. She was a huntress, but she was no jaywalker.

Yang turned to watch the crosswalk, but that didn’t stop the men. “Where are you going? The party’s right here!”

“Yeah, a pretty lady like you looks lonely out all by herself.”

“One of us could keep you company!”

As the red don’t walk sign was unrelenting, Yang had no choice but to endure and survive. “I’m married, actually,” she showed off her ring finger, though it was tempting to give them a different finger altogether. “So, no thanks,” she said as she wondered how desperate they had to be to hit on someone that looked like they rolled out of bed half an hour ago.

“He doesn’t have to know, beautiful,” one persistent fellow offered, not deterred; nor possessing a moral compass of any kind apparently.

She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes, and the force of her disgust almost made her want to walk out onto the street without checking for traffic. “Okay, first, that’s gross. Second, my wife, though pregnant, would kick your ass for that.”

This time she felt it was fine to flip them the bird, and so she did. To their disappointment or their anger, Yang couldn’t see or care, as the crosswalk invited her to finally get moving. She left them in her metaphorical dust once she did double-check for traffic; who knows who could be drunk driving – there was no point in getting run over and leaving Blake with a baby to raise just for some pudding. Plus, that was just a lame way to go out. Not her style.

There was only one more block to go now. She could taste success. For future reference, the trip there alone had convinced her it was worth driving a vehicle next time she had to go out to the store. Though, really, she was inclined to blame the employee of the first store she’d tried for being shut early, leading her to all this trouble. She’d give them a piece of her mind whenever she next went there.

But for now, all she had to do was get inside the twenty-four-hour place’s doors; grab the stuff; pay; and make the trek home.

Thankfully, Yang was treated to the scraping of the automatic doors as they opened, and that cheerful ding they emitted, instead of being unceremoniously denied entry. The clerk sent a glance her way, looking relieved as they realised this customer was not a bar-hopper. They busied themselves with menial tasks; Yang walked to the assortment of fridges and freezers in the back, looking for the pudding that she was pretty sure Blake was going to regret eating.

There was a little elderly lady that must’ve been oblivious to the potential danger of the area she was in, doddering around with a walking stick while trying to reach shelves. What an old lady was doing past midnight grocery shopping, Yang had no clue.

She decided it was best to just assist the woman instead of ignoring her. “Do you need any help there, ma’am?”

“Oh, thank-you dear! If it isn’t too much trouble,” the lady said.

Yang nodded, and grabbed a few things from high up as she was instructed, placing them into the woman’s basket. “My dear, your hand!”

Thoroughly used to hearing things like that from strangers, Yang shrugged the woman’s concern off. “Ah, yeah. Had it for a long time now, not to worry,” she gave a thumbs up, the yellow paint as shiny as ever. She could tell by the woman’s expression that she was holding back asking questions; Yang was used to that as well. “I was a student back when the White Fang attacked Beacon during the Vytal tournament. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess.”

“Oh my, dear. What a terrible thing that was, to put children through all that.”

Understatement of the century, Yang thought. She tried to not look back on the past very often, but sometimes it helped remind her that life was better now. “I learned some difficult lessons, but I’m just happy to be alive.”

The woman gave her a motherly smile, holding her real hand. “So am I, at this age! Thank-you for your help, dear,” though it wasn’t clear if she meant thanks for helping her, or thanks for working towards a peaceful world. Yang didn’t feel the need to ask.

“Don’t mention it. You’re one of the few people tonight that I’m happy to have met,” Yang chuckled, and her eyes perused the assortment of cold items, finally spotting the chocolate pudding. Opening the fridge door and plucking it out caused the elderly woman to speak again.

“You should try a different brand, my grandchildren told me that one is absolutely awful.”

The blonde huntress laughed. This stupid pudding was still harassing kids! “You’re telling me. But, this is what my wife wanted, and I dare not disobey a pregnant ninja-in-disguise!”

“How very sweet of you, dear. Might I suggest then, that we don’t keep her waiting any longer?”

“Sounds like a plan, ma’am. I just gotta grab some cheese doodles,” Yang gave a mock solute to the kind senior, before ducking into the snack aisle. Picking up a crinkly packet of the cheesy snack, she snickered to herself. “Heh, doodles.”

She was on the home stretch now!

The silence of the store was abruptly interrupted by frantic shouting. Hearing multiple words such as robbery and don’t shoot made Yang switch into protective mode. She rushed around the corner to find her older companion looking towards the front of the store in fear.

“I’m gonna handle this, ma’am. Take my scroll and call the police, and hide back here until it’s safe,” not waiting for a response, Yang then quickly walked towards the register where words were being frantically exchanged. It sounded like the cashier refused to give up any money, even with a gun involved.

Chocolate pudding and cheese doodles (heh) in hand, she emerged from the shelves to face the situation. Four hooded men that all turned towards her when they noticed they were not alone, mild shock passed over everyone as they recognised who had walked into their crime-in-progress.

They were the same men from the alleyway that Yang had thought she’d given a decent scare to. “Seriously? It’s like you guys want to get hurt!” Yang was beyond exasperated now. Dealing with the same thugs twice was the icing on the cake. “Where the hell did you get a gun anyway?”

“Lady, don’t move! I’ll put a bullet in you!”

“You’ve already ruined my night, but let’s not ruin anybody else’s,” she carefully chose words to try and placate the idiots waving a dangerous weapon around. Hopefully they’d be distracted enough by the threat of her to not shoot an innocent bystander. It seemed all their attention was on her, so she had that advantage at the very least. “Someone’s gonna get hurt here.”

The criminal finally settled on aiming at her with his gun. “It ain’t gonna be me!” He growled, and to his credit, he came through on his previous claim. To Yang’s amusement, he missed completely, the stray bullet exploding into the shelving and sending bits of food flying.

“Maybe I should send you to an optometrist instead of the emergency room?” She asked, and he reacted with a frustrated cry and approached with the gun still raised. Yang let him; eventually she stared down the barrel of the pistol unfazed. “Do it, pal, I dare you,” she said, the threat evident in her tone of voice. It was enough to make him second-guess himself long enough for her to yank the muzzle of the gun down and send him sprawling to the floor.

The sound of police sirens finally blared from outside, leaving the group of robbers in a panic as to whether they should leg it or help their stupid leader. They were not the brightest bunch of criminals in Vale, Yang supposed, with two failed burglaries in one night. Their decision was made for them as the police entered the scene, guns raised; the bad guys surrendering with their hands in the air – the one on the ground sensibly put his behind his head.

The elderly woman also appeared from her hiding spot, wobbling over with an angry expression, smacking the floored thug with her walking stick. “Rotten scumbags!” Unmindful of the severity of the circumstances, she simply turned to Yang and handed back her scroll. “Thank-you, dear.”

As the policemen rounded up the offenders, the store clerk made it clear to the police that Yang and the old woman were bystanders that must have called the cops. After receiving many thanks from those involved, at this point Yang just wanted to go. The cashier told her to take her shopping items on the house, for her heroics. The police, however, wanted to question her.

“Can we make this quick? I got a family to get back to,” she partially lied, just because the baby wasn’t born, didn’t mean they weren’t a family, right?

The officer was sympathetic, though not that sympathetic. “Sorry miss, it takes however long it takes. We can give you a ride home if you need it.”

Yang sighed, because once again, she was just going to have to accept the situation. “Yeah, thanks.”

So much for a quick trip to the store.

The police cruiser pulled up in front of her and Blake’s home an hour later. No lights on. Blake hadn’t even noticed she hadn’t come back. Though she probably would have called if she had, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

“Thanks for the ride,” Yang said as she unbuckled and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The two officers she’d been talking to gave her a nod of appreciation back, “Thank you for being an upstanding citizen, miss.”

Her keys jingled as she unlocked the front door, and exhausted at this point, Yang kicked her shoes off and trudged to the bedroom to check in on Blake. Even in the dark, she could tell that the Faunus was asleep. “You’re lucky you have an ass that won’t quit, Blakey,” she whispered mostly to herself. If she was asleep, there was no point in waking her – even if she really wanted to, because damn, she’d been through hell and back to get her these snacks.

Chucking the packet of cheese doodles on the kitchen bench and shoving the pudding in the humming refrigerator, Yang returned to their room and undressed once again for bed. Slipping beside her resting wife, it took no longer than a minute for Blake to gravitate towards her. That was something she always adored about the Faunus; as much as she hated to be compared to an actual animal, the first time they’d shared a bed together Blake herself had admitted cats can’t resist something warm.

Before drifting off into a well-deserved sleep, the blonde mumbled, “Any excuse to cuddle up to me, more like it.”

When she next awoke, the sun had already risen. She was also alone, but Yang attributed that to Blake’s appetite being much more demanding than it usually was. True to her assumption, not soon after, the Faunus walked into the room…as she dipped a cheese doodle in the chocolate pudding she held.

Cheese and chocolate was not a flavour combination Yang was a fan of. “I hope you don’t intend to kiss me with that mouth, because that’s all kinds of gross.”

“I guess I can’t thank you for going to all that effort last night, then,” ever the mature one, Blake poked her tongue out. “But really, I was just watching the news. Apparently, there was an attempted robbery in downtown Vale last night,” she came and sat down on the edge of the bed, “that was thwarted by the hottest woman that they’d ever seen.”

“Are those their words or yours?” Yang said, feeling a little smug from the compliment. She’d take what she could get, at this point.

“Down girl,” Blake gave a sly grin, “wouldn’t want to kiss you with this mouth, would I?”

“I stand by my statement,” Yang sat up and curled an arm around Blake’s waist, “ditch the pudding, then we’ll talk.” She then busied herself with gently patting Blake’s baby bump; she was starting to really show now, and Yang felt a little bit of pride swell inside her stomach.

“I suppose I could thank you in some other way,” Blake suggested, discarding the pudding cup on the bedside table.

This time, whatever Yang felt inside her stomach, it wasn’t pride. “I’m listening.”

Blake leant in, her hand sneaking up her wife’s thigh. “You serving justice gets me all riled up.”

It was corny, they both knew it, and in all fairness Yang wasn’t about to reject this advancement. But she’d definitely cut the lame dirty-talk. “Okay, less talking, more doing.”

And even though she tasted the bad chocolate pudding, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

I’m playing guess the reference with this. If you can get the reference/inspiration (hint: title + something featured in the story), and if you choose to answer, will entitle you to an ‘I.O.U. a one-shot from a prompt of your choice’. If you don’t want to send a prompt in, then I ask you don’t spoil it in case anyone else does. Bumbleby prompts are most welcome but I will accept general RWBY prompts (and most ships probably; we can work it out).***two people have guessed and currently this is no longer on offer. Awaiting acceptance. Thanks for playing!***

Just some insight; I chose Blake to be the pregnant one as I connect with Yang the best in terms of writing and she was the main focus. I also think that if they were to have a child, Yang would be a little apprehensive about being the birth-mother, but they’d eventually have another kid with her being the mother. Also sorry about all the line breaks, but I wrote each section in their own little chunk and it just reads better to me like that, so I’m not really that sorry. It’s so nice to write already established Bumbleby for once, lmao. I wrote this to try and re-motivate myself, so if you read my other ongoing story, stay tuned for that (hopefully soon!) Also, it’s my birthday in about 15 minutes (just in case you read this any significant time after the second of August, don’t worry about that), so, happy birthday to me. I can honestly say I never thought that I’d be 22 and writing fanfiction as one of my hobbies. I’ll drink to that!

[florencefolly]

Lost In Translation

July 3, 2017

The best-laid plans of mice and men / Go oft awry

-Robert Burns

The day starts later than we would like but this is how it tends to be with more than just a couple of people. Each of us has our morning routine and no matter how the pressure is applied, the timing remains constant. You can’t put four pounds of shit in a two pound bag. It just won’t work.

Earlier in the morning, my twin sister Rani had gone over to the local boulangerie for pastries. She’d done so willingly. Arriving back promptly with a bag full of goodies and a gleeful smile, “I spoke perfect French!” she says. I love it. A few weeks ago I received a text from her. “I’m sad,” it read. “About what,” I replied. Her daughter Claire was joining us for three weeks and all the sudden it had hit her. She was wishing that she was coming with us. So, I egged her to join and she worked it out.

She had arrived the morning before and several hours before us to Paris. The apartment manager had agreed to let her in early. She managed to navigate her way downtown with minimal effort on little sleep. A day later and with a few more hours of sleep, she’s rallying to get us out the door.

Out on the street, the six of us are on our way up Haussman Street towards the Arc de Triomphe. There is a FNAC store on the Champs-Elysees that sells the Paris City Pass and we are on our way there to purchase it. We spill out on to the fabled tree-lined street with a bazillion other tourists, get our bearings and head away from the top of the street. Emily and I choose to wait outside, opting instead to go into to the Tissot watch store. They peg us immediately for Americans. “You speak English?” the shopkeeper queried. “Yes but I prefer to speak French, I need the practice,” I reply. He is not playing along. We look at a few watches as we try to pass the time.

Impatiently, we decide to head down into the store to find the others. FNAC is like an electronics store meets book store—like a Barnes and Noble and a Best Buy in one building. We spot them towards the back of the store. “They don’t sell them here,” Robin laments. “We need to go to another store.” It is a metro ride away. We head down the street towards Franklin Roosevelt Plaza and into the Metro tunnel. There is a beautiful Georgian building behind tall black gates frosted with gold at the tips. I have no idea what the building is but it is amazing to look at. I often think about places like this in relation to my own City, San Francisco. There are many incredible buildings there too but because I see them routinely, they don’t have the same splendor. Do Parisians give these buildings a “Meh” too? Maybe but not me. They are special, even if I do not know their significance.

We hope the train and head towards the Opera House. The tickets can be bought near there a city run tourist office. I think that we can get them at the Big Bus (Hop On, Hop Off) office. I had actually suggested that we go for the more expensive pass that includes this monstrosity because it really is a good way to see a lot of an unfamiliar city. We pop out on to the street after the short ride to find that we are a couple blocks short of our destination. Making our way through the crowd we step into the tourism office. There are about 30 people in line. Robin needs to use the restroom but there is none. After a few minutes, we learn they do not have the pass we want. Back on the street, we need lunch. The younger generation is starting to melt. Boco is a French cafeteria style restaurant where you pick hot and cold items that they will heat up for you. We select our meal and find our seat. Getting the meal into us, we regroup. The plan is to head over to the Big Bus store and buy our passes there.

Standing at the counter of the store, the ladies are speaking with the agent about the Paris City pass. We had looked up the pass on the web and felt like this is what we wanted to do. It gives us the bus tour, the museum pass and a few other things. However, it is more than 500 euros for just four of us. I just can’t sign off on that spend. Besides, this is not even the correct pass! We wanted the City Pass and tell the agent so. “You must go elsewhere for that one. We don’t sell that here,” she explained.

Out on the street, we regroup-again. We need to get the Rex Theater. 15 minutes walk. Busting out the GPS, we head over and up through Japan town and then the design/textile district. It is an entertaining but hot walk. The GPS has us close but we need to go another couple of blocks. Finally, we find the theater only to learn they no longer sell the pass we want but the agent directs us to the location where they are sold. We go back to whence we came, turning down the lane we had passed to get to the theater. We arrive to find the building shuttered. The kids are losing it. We have gone in circles for a few hours now. My beautiful sister reads the signs and announces, “I’ll take the kids back to the apartment. You guys can figure it out.” She does so with a smile because she’s smart and knows that the situation could’ve quickly run off the rails. I put them in an Uber back to the beauty of the 8th Arrondissment. The section of the 2nd Arrondissment that we are currently standing is no prize, likely playing a larger than bit role in the prevailing attitudes.

Robin, and this one of the many reasons that I love her, not one bit bothered by the goose chase we’ve been on. She sees it as part of the sauce. This is travel in foreign place. You have a plan and that plan can quickly disappear. Sometimes, if you are lucky, the plan is replaced with an adventure that delivers a life-long memory. Rani and the kids inside the cool of the air-conditioned car, Robin and I are left to our own devices. Smiling at one another, thinking how the fuck did this just happen? We are alone in Paris—sans les enfants. “Want to get a drink?” Absolutely! We wander down the street towards the Seine. We spot a few places to catch something with bubbles but the original task is nagging. We opt instead for a trip over to the other FNAC in Les Halles.

Arriving at the massive shopping mall at the center of Paris, we make our way through yet another throng of people. Down to the lowest level of the mall, level minus three is actually above the Metro lines that feed into the transit hub of Châtelet-Les Halles. We find the ticket desk only to be told that “It is finished.” We just laugh. What else can you do?

Robin needs a restroom. I need a strong drink. We find a map for the building to locate a toilet. Snaking our way around the maze of stores we are approaching our destination only to find it cordoned off with cops everywhere. I’ve no idea what is happening and I don’t want to know. We need to get the fuck out of here. NOW. We make a beeline for the Metro but not before hitting the cash machine. Euros in hand we buy our tickets, heading BACK to the Big Bus store. We arrive and anticlimactically buy our tickets, opting for the cheaper museum pass. This will do the trick.

Back in the apartment, we prepare dinner, drinking good Rose while the kids have their precious screen time. Dinner is simple but requires deciphering a back-of-the-box recipe for rice pilaf. The result is too much water. It called for 1 ½ Liters of water, only determining about three minutes away from its nine minute finish that they meant half a liter. Dinner consumed it was decided over the meal that would do a river cruise. Ubering over is only moderately more expensive and certainly more timely. We arrive literally just in time to get the last boat before a 10:15pm sunset—meltdown averted. The cruise is lovely. Pictures are taken, breaths stolen and smiles all around.

We end the evening with a walk on the left bank and dessert served by a show off Italian on one of the very touristy streets. He is charming and the sweets don’t disappoint. A metro ride back leaves us standing on the platform at almost midnight with a number of others. In the shadows of the track below me I see something moving. It is a raildust covered mouse. Not a rat but a small black mouse with a crooked tail. It is shuffling along, in an out of the light making the best of its existence. The train arrives over the top of him and we hop on. Bed soon. Thankfully.