#yoshi writes

"I told you not to try running again, yet the moment I turn my back..." Grunting angrily, he tugs on your hair firmly as he drags you back home, ignoring your crying and pleading.

"It hurts...! Please stop...! Ack- ow!"

His grip doesn't relent till he's pulled you through the front door, quickly motioning for the maids and butlers to leave you two be... Before kneeling in front of you and grabbing down of your hands.

"My darling... What has upset you so much to try leaving me? You were doing so, so well." Looking down, you try to avoid gazing at his face, but his nails digging into your palms direct you otherwise, and you obey.

He looks saddened, his frown is deep and his eyes are wide with expectation, but you know it isn't genuine. Nothing with Richard is. None of his love is real, you finally remembered that after so long of trying to push your feelings aside and do whatever he wanted.

Swallowing hard, you bite your lip and shake your head, refusing to speak.

Standing up, he refuses to let go of your hands, even when you lightly try to pull them away, "...my songbird, won't you grace me with your lovely voice?"

Refusing further, you know he's going to punish you for it, but you can't explain yourself. You ran away because you felt like it, and he will hate that answer, because it's what you always used to say when he first forced you to marry him. Back then, he would apologize and promise to do better for you...

You used to believe him, too. Now though, you know better, and he doesn't try to sugarcoat himself like that very often anymore.

Eyes blazing, he growls, "Fine. Be that way. I'll force you to speak, then."

There isn't a second between his lips closing for you to react, as his hands let go of yours so he can grab your shoulders and push you down to the floor, uncaring that you stumble or that you hit your head up on the wood. He's on top of you the next moment, straddling your midsection as the fireplace illuminates him from the side, leaving you gasping in surprise.

"Don't worry, I know to not punch a woman in her stomach."

It's your only warning of what's to come before he punches your face, a clear impact that nearly knocks you out as you lift your arms to protect yourself. Richard doesn't care, hitting you again and again on your arms as you close your eyes and gasp in pain.

"You really hate me so much?" He pants, "I'll embrace that then, make this marriage a real hell for you."

You want to cry, especially when you can already feel the bruise beginning to form on your cheek from his first punch, but that's not what hurts the very most.

It's the fact that everyone is going to see these marks... But they're not going to care. You remember when Richard bruised you that first week of your marriage, all the maids said was that 'it was a necessary discipline'. None of them care about you, they just wish to make Richard happy, so they're all complacent is his mistreatment.

When he begins to beat on your chest, hard enough to mark but not enough to break anything, you finally snap, "Ngh- ah! I'm s-sorry!" Sobbing, you even uncovered your face, hoping to earn any sympathy, "P-please! Richard! I'm sorry!"

His own chest is having from the anger he worked up within himself, but upon seeing your face, he sighs and leaves his hands upon your skin. They don't lift up to hit or smack you again, so you feel a wave of relief.

"...truly, you mean it?" Like this, he almost sounds like a little kid, leaning down to force you to gaze upon his face. "You know I love you the very most, don't you? That these punishments are for your own good?"

You begin to shake your head before recalling he wants your voice, "I know! Of course I know!" Lifting up your sore arms, you gently cup his jaw and smile, just like he always wants you to.

"There you are... There's my sweetheart, my songbird." Pleased by your obedience, he leans down and kisses you softly, his hands moving away from your chest to caress your cheek longingly. Uncaring when you twinge upon his touch, or that you whine in pain as he feels the sore skin.

"Richard..." You murmur against his lips when he pulls away, giving you a charming smile as he looks down upon your submissive form. He then moves himself off of you, not to leave, but to sit by your exhausted body and look upon the fireplace beside you.

"I apologize for lashing out, my love." Never once has he meant that, and you know it.

"...I'm sorry too." Those stunning eyes of his catch yours as he turns around to watch you sit up, a grin splitting his face before he rests his cheek upon his fist, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh? What for?"

Damn it, he's got you right where he wants you, and you walked right into it. "For upsetting you..."

"You can make it up to me later tonight, songbird."

You fell for it again... No, you always fall for it; he makes it impossible not to.

Aayla Secura was a confusing woman.

It hadn’t hit Bly immediately when he’d begun working at Jedi Inc. After all, his boss was Quinlan Vos and Secura was technically in a different division altogether for all that she shared an office with him and the rest of his coworkers. He couldn’t feel mad about her presence though. For all that he’d technically been assigned a mentor of sorts in order to help him acclimate to his new work environment, he hadn’t caught their name the first time they’d been introduced and hadn’t managed to find them again ever since. Secura had ended up filling that role despite her initially confusing attitude.

It was technically a coincidence that had them interacting at all. She’d stormed into the near-empty office one day (Bly having been ridiculously early because his clock had confused the date and decided it was daylight saving time), and heaved a heavy sigh at the sight of the office’s still broken coffee machine. Now, Bly was very familiar with the particular kind of despair that arose when one was in need of a fix of coffee and faced with its dreadful absence. His eyes drifted guiltily to the two thermos full of coffee he’d prepared that morning, knowing that he'd need them to last him through the day.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat to catch her attention, and instinctively straightened his posture when she turned her gaze toward him.

“I have enough coffee for two if you’d like.” He gestured awkwardly to his own thermos and belatedly pondered the awkwardness of her borrowing one for the rest of the day.

He wasn’t sure at the time whether it was her desperate need for a stimulant of some kind or simply her base personality that let her accept the offer without further consideration. Suffice to say that Bly was the first surprised when Secura approached his desk and leaned over his computer monitor to grab a thermos before bringing it to her mouth and draining a sizeable quantity in one long gulp.

Bly was still staring when she put the thermos back with a contemplative expression on her face. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, before turning to head to her own office. “It’s too bitter however.”

That was the extent of their first conversation, and Bly couldn’t for the life of him understand what had possessed him to take her words to heart. She was waiting at his desk the next time he saw her, this time with a pot full of dirt.

She smiled widely when she saw him, and Bly answered in kind for all that he knew his own had to hold a confused tinge to it. “Thanks again for the coffee,” she said as she thrust the pot toward him. “And here’s a little something extra to welcome you to the team.”

And she was off again before Bly mustered the wits to thank her for what would become the first addition to his desk. Staring at it closer, he could see that a little green sprout was visible, and would surely grow if he took good care of it. As far as welcoming gifts went it was a little bit unusual, but Bly felt a fond smile grow on his face. He had several plants at home and it wouldn’t be too hard to make sure this one flourished properly.

He kept bringing his two thermos of coffee, and Secura kept stealing a gulp of one of them every time she swung by his desk. Her comments never changed much, and Bly wouldn’t be himself if he let that stand without trying to improve. She’d given him a plant after all, the least he could do was make better coffee.

He wasn’t the only one entertained by his constant attempts to find a coffee she’d like the taste of.

“Hm, dark chocolate is good, but this one is a bit too bitter to go in coffee,” she’d said the first time he attempted to make a moka.

“Did you put caramel in this? I can barely feel it.”

“Oh, whipped cream! This one isn’t sweet enough however.”

As the months passed and his little sprout grew into the beginning of a flowerbud, so did his deskmate’s, Rex, enthusiasm for each critique and bewilderment at the entire situation.

“You know you can ask her to stop stealing your coffee, right? I don’t think they can fire you for not making a coffee she’d like, especially since she’s not even your boss.”

Bly understood the logic of the argument, but at this point it was too late to give up.

“You don’t understand,” he told Rex even as he mentally reviewed his past experiences to try and devise a mix Secura would finally approve of. “It’s a matter of honor.”

He also felt irrationally afraid of disappointing her.

He didn’t how many kind of coffees he’d ended up making that fateful day. He’d gotten used to the way Secura gulped down a mouthful before going on her way, but this time she didn’t stop at one. Bly stared as she took another mouthful, then another as he desperately tried to remember what he’d put in the coffee this time. Was it caramel? Milk? Maybe vanilla?

He didn’t know what to call the sensation in his chest when she looked at him with a beaming grin. “Perfect,” she sighed, and then curled both her hands around the thermos like it was the only thing keeping her warm. This time, she didn’t put the thermos back before she left. “Meet me after work and I might give it back!”

His lips spread into surprised smile of his own. "I will!" he answered in kind.

You smile as you finally look over to the bed where he's resting, only... Norton isn't alone. In fact, more than that; there's a whole audience of strangely dressed men surrounding him. All around his height, and his build...

"Ah...?" You've never been more confused in your life, and that's saying something, considering you've been trapped in a manor with endless games and matches for quite some time now. Ones where you can't really die, or escape, or say no to. So this, somehow topping all of that, is insane.

None of them say anything, and neither do you. Maybe it's shock, or maybe it's just that none of you were expecting this. Probably both.

Until finally, a young boy squeezes his way out from behind some of them, and rushed over to you, hugging you tightly, "You're here!" That seems to finally break whatever trance you were all in, as you immediately crouch down to comfort him.

"You know me?" Looking him over, you can tell this boy is rather young, and shockingly, has a matching scar to Norton's, and the same piercing too... Is he some sorta fan of Norton?

"Mhm... You're taller, and older, but I could never forget you!" Tears well up in his eyes at the exclamation, and you begin to fret over him in turn, hugging him tenderly.

Even if he's a stranger to you, he's still a child after all, "Shhh shhh, there there, we'll figure this out..." Head on his shoulder, you glance over at the other men, who seem to be watching you like a hawk. "Uhm, and can I ask why you're all here?"

They all begin to speak at once, leaving you stunned, before bizarrely, a strangely dressed man appears almost out of thin air, commanding them, "Quiet!" Obeying him, this leader of sorts, you suppose, he shakes his head at them and within one blink, he's standing in front of you, "...you are his beloved, are you not?" His fingers points to Norton, sleeping on the bed, still sick, and you nod.

"...some pieces are falling together... Though, I cannot say I fully understand it myself, either..." As cryptic as that is, you appreciate that you're not the only one stunned beyond belief. "As it stands to reason, my best assumption at this moment appears to be that we-" he gestures to the men scattered about the room "-are your partner, just not the one you know."

"Huh?"

He sighs softly, then traces his features slowly, "Look at me. Look at my nose, this piercing, even this scar, underneath the face paint. Who is the man you know with all these things?"

This is truly unbelievable, you're sure he's aware, even as you breathlessly whisper in response, "Norton..."

"Exactly. It appears to me... That for some reason, that different 'Nortons' from different places and times have all been gathered in this mysterious place..." Trailing off, he turns around to the man, holding his hand to his chin in thought, before chuckling, "The true question is... Why?"

You follow his gaze to the others, who do seem to be far more calm now after being addressed by him. Petting the boys head, you standing up with him still clinging to you, worried and scared. "...listen, if you're all Norton... Then that means my Norton is okay, right?" Thankfully, they seem to understand what you mean, stepping to the side so you can see him clearly on the bed once more, still sleeping away.

That eases your worries at least... But... Now the real issue is figuring out what you're all going to do. The manor may not like that Norton has seemingly summoned forth all these other 'Nortons' in his sleep. Hell, he definitely doesn't know he did it either.

"This is definitely... going to be quite something to explain to Orpheus..." At that, some of them stiffen, apparently recognizing the name in some capacity. The same one from before, with his face painted like a skull, chuckles at the response.

"Let's see... With Norton himself excluded... That's fifteen new men, and one boy, now housed here..." He chuckles again, almost like his comments are supposed to be banter, "I suppose it's a good thing this manor seems to be endless, hm?" And how exactly does he know that? It's true, but he just got here... Was he already snooping while you gone?

Well, at least he's speaking for them. You don't think you'd be able to understand so many talking at one time. "It's so crowded in here... Why haven't you all begun exploring?"

Looking around at each other, they all seem to mumble some explanation, before the boy at your waist whimpers, "Waiting for you..."

For you...? They all know you? Wait, they all probably know a version of you, wherever they come from... That's why even the little one said something about you being taller, and older... You think you've got this pretty much figured out by now.

"I see... Well, I need to take care of Norton, so... Can you all go and wait for me downstairs? Surely you can all find the living room on your own, right?"

Stepping to the side, you point towards the bedroom door, and though you hear some grumbles and complaints, the herd of men starts to leave the room. Some seem eager to go, one dressed in some red outfit with a black cape, another in beach attire, and then the others follow suit. Though the one with the skeletal face paint lingers with the down open, clearing his throat, "Sparrow, let's go."

The arms around you tighten, and you realize that must be this particular one's name, as he whimpers and whines, "Don't make me leave, I missed you so much!"

Feeling a bit put on the spot, you crouch down again to address him, trying your best to reassure him, "Hey... I'm not going anywhere, I promise you. I just want to check in on my Norton, okay? Then I'll be downstairs to help you all, I promise."

His arms finally begin to loosen as you close your mouth, and the one in purple steps back to gentle grab the boys hand, "Won't be long now, come on, don't you want to show her how mature you are?" Now that, actually seems to work, as Sparrow immediately straightens up and nods, affirming that sentiment.

It's pretty cute, you're admit that, and though he looks back at you as they leave the bedroom, you nod to assure him that it truly won't be too long. Norton is just a bit ill, he'll be as right as rain soon enough, and then you'll be able to show him this insanity.

That is, if it isn't all some big dream you're having anyway. Maybe you got hit too hard during that last match and you're actually passed out right now in the infirmary, that could be reasonable. Regardless of that though, you do still want to check on Norton, just in case this all actually is real.

Checking that the door is closed and locked, you walk over to him, still sleeping... You can't believe he slept though all that, usually he wakes at the drop of a pin, yet that sickness must be really getting to him. You sit on the edge of the bed with a small sigh, reaching over to check his temperature, and you find that he's feeling normal again.

No shallow breathing, no redness in the face or running nose, he look fully recovered... But he isn't waking up? Now then, that's truly strange.

"Norton... Wake up, my love." Stroking his face with your hand, you earn a little grunt in response, and that relieves some of your worries. Just sleeping... He must be exhausted after recovering from his sickness, that's all.

Which doesn't leave you much in terms of distractions from going downstairs to deal with... All of that. Now does it?

"Oh Norton... I hope you wake up soon..." That's it, you'll just wait till he wakes, then you'll go down together...

For now though, you curl up on the bed, into his side, and rest your head on his chest, wanting nothing more than to prepare that herbal tea and relax with him until your next match. Even though life has apparently thrown not only a wrench, but a circus of monkeys, your way.

Or perhaps you'll wake up and this will all have been one long dream. Who truly knows... You don't.

That's right... His hand moves to caress your stomach, causing you to make a squeak in your throat that has him immediately pulling away with a quick "Sorry!" 

He's being ridiculous, treating you like a fragile crumpet that will crumble into a million pieces from just a mere touch, you often have to remind him you aren't one. You know why he's worried, this is the first time you've both actually been successful... Every other time, you've waited weeks and weeks, and not a single sign ever showed aside from when it was too late... It was devastating, getting your hopes up again and again like that.

You both promised yourselves that this is the last time. No more trying, no more heartache, no more blood and tears, just one last attempt, and miraculously, your body finally got the message. 

"Oh quit it, you- come here!" Snatching his wrist, you pull his hand to your belly, rounded by about twenty-one weeks now, nearly twenty-two.

In amazement, Finsen lifts the edge of your shirt and splays his fingers across the small expanse, bigger than ever before. Every touch is so soft, you almost worry he is pulling away, but the sounds of him kneeling just to press his head to your tummy has you relaxing immediately.

He's always been like this, so intimate and sweet... Your Finsen is perfect, and this baby will be all the best parts of you and him, as they should be.

"So warm... Keep your mama nice and comfortable, you hear me?"

"They can't hear you..." Crossing your arms in mock irritation, you earn a beaming smile as he looks up at you, truly in love, just as always.

"Maybe not, but I know you get very shy when I talk like this- so that's reward enough."

Startled by him noticing that, you waffle your words and ending up just whining, shoving your face into your hands in defeat. He wins, he always wins, from the color of the front door to trying one more time, Finsen somehow always manages to convince you to his side. It isn't difficult, but still, you're supposed to pretend to fight back sometimes...!

Standing back up, his fingers trail up your arms, slowly but surely finding their way to your head, where they pry your digits away so he can look into your eyes. "There you are, my love, I was worried that you didn't wish to see me anymore..." To empathize his pathetic voice, he whimpers, wobbling his bottom lip like a child.

"Oh- you!" Scoffing at him, you know your attempts to seem mad are useless— your love can see through them all, yet he still indulges you. Apologizing, arguing, comforting, he always seems to know exactly what to say to make you fall for him more and more, that's just Finsen.

Under your annoyed gaze, he smiles again, keeping your fingers in his grip as he leans down for a quick peck, sweet and chaste, but all his own. "I love you, let's keep your stress down, alright?"

Now that, you can agree with, "Yes... Of course, I hope I didn't get more moody as this continues... Or at least that they won't be so sudden."

"Oh, you will. I heard from one of the doctors at the clinic that he met a pregnant woman who quite literally began to eat a shoe because the baby caused cravings for inedible items."

Blinking in surprise at him, he quickly catches on and waves his hands wildly, explaining, "Not that I think that will occur with us, my love! And even if you did, I would obviously fix your teeth right up to prevent any major damage!"

You balk, "Th-that's not the part I'm worried about!"

"I'll also make sure it's a leather boot so your stomach can digest it! Everything so it be as safe as possible for you and the baby, of course!"

"Nooooo! You're supposed to say that I'm not gonna eat a shoe at all!" Sometimes, he does at least remind you that he isn't always perfect... Despite how easily you can forget it on occasion.

You wouldn't trade him for the world, though. Finsen is yours to love and adore, even moreso than the clinic. 

"Haha! Is that what you're worried about, my darling? But it's a real possibility we should be prepared for! Pregnancy does cause all sorts of cravings- perhaps you'll soon wish to eat those crumpets you were speaking of earlier?" At that, you do stop all your thoughts, nearly drooling at the picture in your mind of the warm cooked dough and melting butter on top. 

Your fantasy makes you pliant, and he uses that chance to grab you properly to carry you to the kitchen, so you already know where this is going... 

Lots of food, and a deep sleep as you rest off all the extra calories while he goes to work. It's his way of making sure you're taken care of in the morning, and while you miss him every second he's away, you can't complain. The children need him, the other doctors scare them, and he's the only dentist around who will take in those who cannot pay.

...this is your life, and you're happier than ever. 

Now that you're in the clear, in the safe zone, nothing can ruin this for you. Not anymore.

Coming Around.

Happy Valentine's Day, I actually uploaded this last night but forgot to post a link here...

Watching Night.

Just in time for his birthday... I love Ithaqua sm and his birthday letter being so in line with this fic is actually crazy considering I started it last year after his first letter...