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randomfoggytiger · 11 months

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The Scully Family In-Depth (Part IX): Mulder and the Two Scully Sisters

The last part of One Breath's Scully Family coverage is here.

Mulder is out of options; and Scully is certainly dying.

“You know Fox--,” Melissa begins, conversationally in the cafeteria; but she pauses when Mulder raises with jerky back-and-forth movements. Recalling Scully’s earlier forewarning, she restates, “Sorry. Mulder.”

Mulder shakes his head at her, a combination of annoyance at having to politely listen and annoyance at also having to listen to her drawn-out rephrasing. He’d rather be incorrectly called “Fox” than have to waste time waiting for the correction.

Melissa is frustrated by his vengeance shoddily veiled with apathy, her open expression dropping into older sister admonishment.

“You could… spend the rest of your life finding every person who’s responsible and it’s still not gonna bring her back.”

Mulder is heavily annoyed, staring her down and responding only with an exaggerated sigh.

On first glance, in theory, or on paper, Mulder and Melissa should have gotten along. Both are open to extreme possibilities and believe they can communicate with ghosts, spirits, and (likely) aliens. Why they don’t is because Melissa lacks the critical, pessimistic filter Mulder judges his own theories by-- he is a very pessimistic man to beliefs he can’t or won’t swallow (ex. Scully’s faith and established religion.) Melissa’s harmonic boogaloo is one of those things; and he casts her willful optimism into the same light as negligible and irresponsible naivete.

Melissa senses this; but she also senses his outright refusal to address his own leaking wounds or be there-- really there-- for his dying partner, denying them both that peace before she passes. She’s determined to stop that.

“Whoever did this to her has an equal horror coming to them,” Melissa says.

Mulder nods to himself, convinced he, too, is culpable for Scully’s death (which will be revisited in S5’s Kitsunegari.) “Including myself.”

Pinning him with her eyes, Melissa freezes. Her appraisal is cut short by a third party interruption; but she still squeezes out-- with the classic skeptical Scully raised eyebrow-- “What do you mean ‘yourself’?”

The first hint of true Scully skepticism seems to have placed him in a more open, honest mood. Mulder responds more to straight talk, thinking Melissa's pretty phrases and kumbaya sentiments are phony and dismissible. For the first time he regards the other Scully with something other than tolerance, leaning forwarding and becoming more vulnerably honest-- softening his expression and curving his arms comfortingly rather than erecting them as a stiff, unpassable barrier. He even absently curls one of his hands in a simple, limp-wristed gesture of little-boy-awkwardness, a sign he’s intensely focused on choosing the right words rather than guarding his thoughts and feelings. After all, he has no place left to run; and the emotional turbulence Mulder feels is so great he’d rather confide in this annoying Scully sister (the pre-Queequeg, if you will) than keep company alone in his head.

Of course, this almost-vulnerability is cut short by the next mission, the next lead-- like Mulder and Scully’s moment in the basement when he reads about Arthur Dales in an old newspaper article-- and he gets up and walks off in pursuit of vengeance. Melissa doesn’t stop him, watching silently as he makes his decisions (as she had for Maggie, post here.)

Many a failure and pep talk and second chance later, Mulder sits in his apartment, revenge in his grasp, thirst for blood in his mouth. His trap is interrupted by a knock from Melissa.

Side note: Mulder heard her knock and was about to shoot her. Melissa should have learned not to show up to federal agents’ dark apartments without expecting to catch a bullet.

“Mulder,” she calls after several unanswered raps. When he springs out the door, disheveled and searching the hallway, Melissa swivels her head around, too.

Seeing nothing, she decides she’s accidentally disrupted a very disoriented Mulder from his nap. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I came by… you weren’t answering and your machine wasn’t on.”

Melissa is shaky, a bit startled… but very relieved. She knows how devastating losing Scully is for Mulder; and, when she hadn’t heard from him for a few hours, she tracked him down (most likely learning where he lives from Maggie… which means Maggie knows where Mulder lives) and had to make sure he was alright. Which means that Melissa could sense how thin a string Mulder is held together by after Scully’s tether has been snapped.

Mulder reads this genuine concern, and he looks down-- feeling for the first time a connection with this strange amalgamation of Scully’s care, Maggie’s paranormal tendencies, and (to him) plain wacko opinions.

A hint of his guilt pops through: he feels for Melissa’s loss (keeping far away from his own feelings on the matter) but is combatting that regret with what he thinks is avenging justice for her, Maggie, and Scully. And he is very angry when she disillusions him of that notion.

At Melissa’s “Can I come in?”, Mulder panics, not thinking of a response fast enough.

Melissa’s suspicion radar is activated, and she scowls. “For a second?”

Giving up, Mulder leads (read: jams) her in, swiftly shutting the door behind him.

“Why is it so dark in here?” she asks, concerned.

“Because the lights aren’t on.”

Concern fleeing in the face of aggravation, she mildly responds, “Okay” and passes over Mulder’s pique.

Straightening her posture and folding her arms in a “no-nonsense” pose, Melissa informs, “I just came from the hospital. Doctor Daly says…”

She stops, mimicking another classic Scully gesture: sucking in her cheeks and rubbing her tongue across lips from stress.

“...she’s weakening. It could be… any time. So I figured you’d want to come down and see her.” Looking down with filling tears, she prepares for an onslaught from Mulder.

Which doesn't happen.

“Well I can’t.”

Instant righteous Scully indignation-- the kind Maggie and Scully herself uses on a regular basis. It runs in the family.

“Well, I think that you would.”

“Yeah, well--” Mulder snaps, intent roiling under his pointed response. He falters, “I would--”; then hobbles over his voice crack with a definitive, “I can’t. No right now.”

Melissa came on a mission of mercy; but it now dawns on her that Mulder is slapping that offer away willfully, more ready to dole out danger than to inflict it on himself.

Anger building, she steps forward and mutters, lowly, “Listen. I don’t have to be psychic to see that you’re in a very. dark. place. Much darker than where my sister is.” (As Scully told Luther Lee Boggs, “It may be a cold, dark place for you; but it's not for Mulder.")

Sidenote: Her "you're in a very dark place" is unintentionally on par with the humor of "the lights aren't on" because:

#1. He is morally and emotionally in the dark; but also

#2. Mulder is literally standing in a dark patch of the room.

Melissa, despite drawing nearer to the darkness, stays in the light. She tries to reach through the shadows and engage Mulder’s disengaged morality (“Willingly walking deeper into darkness cannot help her at all. Only the light--”); but her speech only angers him more, as he twists her sweet words in saccharine empty platitudes.

“Oh, ENOUGH--” Mulder yells, conscience pricked. But his frustration brings out more honesty: “You’re not saying anything to me.” Desperation taints his voice, a subtle plea: “make sense, make it stop” warring within himself while she talks.

Melissa knows that Mulder doesn't want to understand; and, furious, steps firmly into his business for the first time and squares off: “Why don’t you just drop your cynicism. And your paranoia. And your DEFEAT. Y’know, just because it’s positive and good doesn’t make it silly, or trite. Wh..why is it so much easier for you to run around trying to get even than just expressing to her how you feel?”

Mulder has been looking down, trying to shut away the truth; but at her last sentence, his head bolts upright. Before he can make a snappy rejoinder, Melissa cuts him off, refusing to let him break her eyeline while forging ahead on the steam of disappointed indignation.

“I expect more from you-- DANA expects more.”

Again, Melissa speaks for her sister (post here), relaying her messages in the present tense, confirmation that she’s spoken at length with her dying sibling.

Mulder looks away once more; and she huffs, storming off towards the door. On the tail of his relieved sigh, she spins back and sends a parting shot: “Even if it doesn’t bring her back--”

Mulder shifts his eyes down again, spoiling for a fight (but restraining himself with a clenched jaw.)

“--at least she’ll know. And so will you.” Melissa sweeps out the door, not giving him room to even react.

After another jaw clench followed by a door slam (and a hard lean to prevent him from breaking it down and screaming after his unwanted visitor), Mulder retreats back to the dark.

But not for long.

The right decision and a preemptive bout of mourning later-- the first time Mulder has broken down about someone other than his sister-- he answers the Scully call, expecting to hear of his partner’s death… and is overjoyed when told she’s woken up. He joins all three Scully women at the hospital, bearing gifts and a clear conscience.

The loud click and squeak of the room door startles Maggie and Melisssa, and pulls Scully into awareness. While she slowly shifts her head, Melissa bounces from the chair, hoping Mulder will take her place by sinking into it. No such luck-- he’s not ready to be observed in his hospital vigils yet (he will by Redux II); but his smile lights up the whole room as he tugs a little gift behind him (ala the charm in Fresh Bones, the keychain in Tempus Fugit, and the doll in Empedocles.)

“Hello, Fox,” Maggie coos, blissfully serene.

The first thing Scully says is a correction (because of course it is): “Not ‘Fox.’ Mulder.”

Beaming, she pops open her eyes with a cheeky grin on her face; but dials it back into as close to her own signature, serious expression as Scully can manage, her shirked Starbuckian duty-- lack of evidence for "Ahab"-- weighing down her joy.

An important point: this is the first “Mulder” smile-- besotted, appreciative gazing-- that is shown in the series. Before now, he shared S1 smirks and S2 grins with his unacknowledged crush; but now he beams unabashedly raw emotion in triumph o’er the grave. He is in love; and he knows it.

The first thing Mulder says is his concern (because it always has been): “How ya feelin’?”

Scully swallows, searching his face. “Mulder, I don’t remember anything.” A rare woman Scully is: wakes from a coma, fears her partner’s disappointment, but level-headedly gives him the truth, anyway. Taking a winded, bracing breath, she tries to get her words out, but starts hasten and stumble over them after mentioning Duane Barry (her eyes flinching and her words shoving together.)

“Doesn’t-- doesn’t matter,” he assures, shaking his head to dismiss the topic. He does, however, clench his jaw, a sign he’d caught how desperate Scully was to reassure him she’d done her best. It’s sad and telling how focused she is on not failing him, even on her own deathbed (which will be revisited, again, in Redux II.)

Mulder has already chosen Scully over the Truth by sitting at her deathbed; but this is the first time she sees him make that choice. She nods; then closes her eyes to collect herself.

As Mulder sweeps out his celebration gift-- Superstars of the Superbowl (a “we won, Scully! We beat the odds in the game of life!” flourish)-- and earns a “I knew there was a reason to live” from his partner, Melissa watches from behind, framed as a benevolent angel keeping guard as her two charges fumble around and titter in their newly realized love and glee. When he starts to walk off without the important words said, Melissa leans her head back against the post, fondly exasperated at the two of them.

Scully, gaining a second wind, steps up to the bat. “Mulder….”

Melissa tries and fails to keep a smirk off her face as Mulder spins around, his feet sweeping loud circles on the hospital floor. At Scully’s measured “I had the strength of your beliefs”, two things happen with him at once:

#1. Mulder self-consciously peeks sideways at Maggie to see if she’s aware of his private conversation the night before (or if she’s read between the lines, destroying his subtlety. Hint: Maggie figured out his feelings in Ascension-- post here-- and Melissa took one look at his middle-school-crush hair and oversized jacket and closed the case.)

#2. Mulder quickly jumps from “I had the strength of your beliefs” to Scully’s cross, having kept himself afloat with the strength of her beliefs. Remembering that he has it in his pocket-- a personal talisman-- he reaches in and tenderly hands it back.

A bonus third point:

#3. Melissa hadn’t known he’d been the necklace keeper; and she plainly shows her surprise as the proceedings go on.

Maggie is touched, melting in her miracle and rewarded trust.

Scully discerns that this is her necklace, and immediately turns to her mom. The two hold a silent conversation-- the mother still tying religious value to the gift that her daughter does not-- and Scully is comforted (in an ironic way... and aware of that fact) that nothing has changed. She then turns back to Mulder; and the two stare silently at each other.

Mulder stops himself from further, heartfelt words, reminded that Maggie and Melissa are there-- and are staring like hungry vultures. Getting shy, he slithers off (but not before getting a full view of Melissa’s big, plastered, satisfied smirk.)

Overall, Melissa Scully and Dana Scully are two very different women; and Mulder is probably the most thankful man on this planet for that fact. While he gives Melissa her due, the two are oil and water; and between her and Bill (who we will get to), family holidays would probably have been a very... interesting time.

Mulder recognizes, however, how right she was in this circumstance; and that her persistence made him admit to himself his love for Scully, taking a massive step forward in his emotional growth. Without Melissa's influence, Mulder's "gazing" wouldn't be to the same degree that we recognize as part of his character. Not only that, but he would also have missed out on a powerful, life-changing (and, for Scully, life-saving) lesson.

And thus ends One Breath.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #The Scully Family In-Depth #In-Depth #Part IX #Mulder and the Two Scully Sisters #xfiles #xf meta #meta #x-files #the x files #mine #analysis #Scully #Mulder #Melissa Scully #Maggie Scully #One Breath #S2

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zoennes · 11 months

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Zoenne Fic ❥ Beter Samen・Chapter Five

#wtFOCK #Skam #Zoë Loockx #Senne De Smet #Zoenne #Zoenne Fic #wtFOCK Fic #Skam Fanfic #Such a Disney Couple Series #Part IX #AND... BETER SAMEN IS NOW COMPLETE! 5/5 CHAPTERS OF PURE FLUFF #SaDCS

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kashmiresims · 1 year

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A WEEK AWAY - PART IX: AVALANCHE

A High School Trip! What could go wrong? It's a day spent skiing or staying indoors as the teens take in the recent snowfall, as well as taking in their feelings about each other and their friendships and their wishes for more.

READ HERE (search ‘PART IX’ for newest update)

#awa arc #ts2 #sims 2 story #story update #kashmiresims #part IX

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economicsresearch · 1 year

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page 559 - I say "oh shit!" because what if it's not a computer.

It could be another person working from the same textbook as a source. If there's me and the other guy, who says there aren't more of us. They just aren't in this particular dungeon in this particular cell. Or a regular room is possible too if they're the luckiest ever.

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nqmonarch · 14 days

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Aeon Lover AU Part 2

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/nqmonarch/749257688234557440/aeon-brainrot?source=share

Characters: Aha, IX

Note: This AU I plan to eventually make Yandere, not in this part but I feel like it's good to let people (my fellow small crowd of Aeon lovers) know.

You stared at Aha's human form, not breaking eye contact as a manic grin stayed on their face. "So you're Aha?"

"Maybeee, maybe I am, maybe I'm not! Does it matter? I'm just here to help you!" They said trying to act all innocent, and blinking their long eye lashes once and then twice.

You paused for a moment, observing the person in front of you. You took a step forward and Aha remained still completely oblivious to your nefarious intentions. You reached your hands out to them and they immediately grabbed them with their own, interlocking them. Holy shit-- your whole body overloaded with that move as your face begin to burn and jumped away.

"Wasn't that what you were trying to do?" Aha asked coyly, smiling at you and holding their empty hand out to you.

You grabbed onto their hand, trying to move it out of the way of their body, "No, I'm trying to undress you," Aha froze at your words mouth twitching, "This body is just a medium right? I'm hoping you didn't steal it... But if you created it I want to see if there's any discrepancies between it and a human body." Perhaps there'd be some kind of dead give away?

The only thing that suggested that Aha wasn't human was their other worldly beauty. "Why did you choose to be so attractive anyway? How much can you change your form?" You asked leaning closer to observe them, a small mole rested beneath the tip of their left eye.

Now that Aha's hand was successfully pushed to the side you tried to remove your hand from it, only to feel their fingers dig into your skin and your hand unable to move. Whatever, you didn't mind holding hands with them the warmth felt nice and made your heart race, albeit that was a bit distracting.

Aha had leaned away from you a bit, their red lips quivering as they held in a laugh before breaking into full out giggles. "Ahaha, you're so forward Y/N," Their eyes flickered over to you, "If you wanted to sleep with me you could've just said so?" They teased you.

You paused at their words, that... being with an Aeon were you worthy of that? Could anyone be worthy of that? Fantasizing was one thing but... if you were given the chance... your head was getting too muddled with thoughts of this. Aha was just joking anyway but if there was an Aeon that would be up to sleeping with a human for fun then... it would probably be Aha wouldn't it?

"What did you mean earlier when you said you were here to help me?" You asked changing the topic and averting your eyes from them. You tried to pull your hand away again but it stuck to Aha's. Your head shot up, "Did you glue our hands together?!"

Aha laughed, staring down at you, "I was going to be your wingman for an Aeon but--"

"Really?!" You perked up immediately throwing your other arm around Aha's back and holding him closer. You didn't bother moving your glued hand and instead kept it in Aha's grasp. "That'd really be amazing!" It was no wonder Aha would find entertainment from trying to set a normal human up with an Aeon.

You'd read that he once picked up a random worm and made it incredibly intelligent to try and grab the attention of Nous. When it failed he discarded the worm without a second thought. It was weird to think you were on the same level as a worm but hey, it gave you a chance to maybe meet another Aeon. You stared at Aha's face, noticing the slightly furrowed sharp eyebrows and their eyes cast downward. You wondered if they'd show you their Aeon form one day?

Either way they seemed a bit upset right now? Annoyed? Perhaps they were just holding in their laugh super hard right now. You deemed that it was probably the latter as a smile overtook their face.

"Of course! " They grinned letting out a small giggle and holding up their entwined hand with yours, and dashing behind you, "I'm so sad! You're over me already!" You knew it was a joke but for some reason you felt a great feeling of heartbreak come over you. You felt like falling to your knees but you stood still anyway feeling one of Aha's arms circle around your neck.

You smiled despite the discomfort, "Well every Aeon is beyond interesting. It'd be nice to meet..." You felt like you were choking, "another one. Obviously, I don't imagine anything beyond meeting them," You admitted feeling your insecurity well up.

Aha laughed wildly and for once you felt on edge around them. You had been acting rather foolishly recently, trusting an Aeon especially one with such chaotic goals, you should be more wary.

"You want to see an Aeon's true form?" Aha asked you, and you could feel their breath on your ear.

Interesting if this was a body they made then they'd gotten the heat aspect down completely, from the warmth of their body to the heat of their breath. You wondered if at any point Aha had been a human. Tayzzyronth had been the last of its species. Nanook was suspected to have come from a planet riddled with destruction and upon seeing the destruction of the aftermath of Tayzzyronth and the Mechanical Empire rose to Aeonhood. But how did the majority of the Aeons start? What were they? Who was Aha before they were an Aeon?

"Wait," You froze finally registering Aha's question, "I... could see an Aeon's true form?" Your heart beat as fast as a humming bird.

"Do you want to? I think it'll be fun," Aha asked again, you could feel their abdomen shake against you and you realized how poorly this could go depending on what Aha found most entertaining.

You could see an Aeon which wouldn't care for you or even glance at you, like Nous. Or Aha may somehow know where Nanook is, and teleport you to that Aeon and... you'd seen what happened to the trailblazer when they met Nanook in the simulated universe. The trailblazer had been immediately killed. That being said Aha didn't really need your consent and you had an inkling that if you said no, you'd meet an Aeon's true form anyway. Plus, it's not like you weren't curious.

"Of course I do." You barely finished speaking before you felt a sudden amount of joy fill you, ecstasy flooded your senses, and your lips opened by themselves letting laughter escape them. The sudden amount of power distracted you from your inability to breathe.

You were in space. Yet you still felt warm, you felt unbearably happy, and you saw Aha in their human form behind you. They laughed at your expression, "My reveal should be the last!" They chattered on excitedly, "But you wouldn't really be able to be here without any help. So I lended a helping hand!" Their eyes were wide with joy and you felt the urge to pat their head.

So you did. "Thank you." They stared at you a bit stunned for a moment, cheeks with a bit more color than usual despite being in space, but you thought nothing of it as they grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around.

"Look!" Their voice was quiet and strained, you could hear the smile in their voice.

But all of the warmth you felt quickly disappeared as you stared at the Aeon in front of you. Purple swirls and a black mysterious mass stared back at you for a brief moment. You looked into the abyss and the abyss looked back.

To an extent you'd always known that the world would eventually become nothing. That everything you worked toward, no matter how long it benefitted humanity, would eventually disappear with humanity itself. That the planets themselves would fall apart inevitably being swallowed by blackholes which would become nothing themselves. That one day even the fundamental parts of the universe would cease to exist.

That the nothingness you couldn't comprehend would one day be all there is.

You couldn't even sob. The fear that had existed in your body initially had turned into numbness, not numbness it turned into nothingness. You weren't afraid. You weren't anything. It was just

There was something holding you back. A faint warmth coming from your hand, which you found unable to move. You were stuck to something. Aha! You let yourself laugh, your mouth didn't move nor did any sound come out. It didn't feel as if you had a mouth or any form of a body but you did.

You knew one day everything you did would amount to nothing. That's why everything you did wasn't focused on the future. It was enough to enjoy the moment, and tomorrow. You'd had the opportunity to meet such a wonderful Aeon after all. You stared at the black and purple cosmos in front of you, the eyes on it no longer glancing your way. You no longer felt enthralled with joy or burdened with despair but rather, you felt like you.

Your life was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That was exactly why you could enjoy in the beauty of what was insignificant. Of the flowers in Spring, of the creations in the simulated universe, of the people around you.

"How beautiful," Your voice came out soft as you gazed upon the lonely being. You smiled feeling a fire rise within you. No wonder there was a whole faction dedicated to making such a magnificent creature see the purpose in existing.

Aha laughed, "I'm surprised you didn't fall to nihility! Three cheers for Y/N!" The glue between your hand and theirs seemed to have faded away, as they brought their hands up to clap and cheer out your name.

"I don't know, you sound a bit disappointed," You watched IX disappear from your sight wistfully and then turned to Aha with a smile resting on your face.

Aha held a hand to their chest in offense as they gasped, "I am! You're so mean! Acting like IX is that interesting when we both know I'm ten times more cool!"

You flicked their forehead, "Let's head back to Herta's space station now." Aha laughed, finding amusement in the smallest of actions and the two of you returned.

You managed to find your way back to the topic of IX again. Aha, being an Aeon, had never felt the nothingness from IX and had asked you to describe it.

You went into as much detail as you could and then spoke in a serious tone, "I'm surprised I made it. I knew everything does eventually become nothing, and I knew it isn't nothing right now. I knew that it's less about the meaning of our existence and life and more about the meaning of every day. But the sensation of becoming nothing is... indescribable."

You paused trying to analyze the feeling you'd come across, "For a creature that doesn't know much or one whose only purpose is to live seeing the Nihility would be fatal. But humans... are beyond that. We still live but there are things we treasure above living and even the future of the whole universe." Your Aeon merch being one of them, "Even if one day those things were to disappear with everything else, it's enough for us to have had them in our lifetime. Maybe to an extent a permanent short sightedness is needed."

What you'd experience who can never be explained by any words, the absolute dread and despair. No matter how hard you tried to describe the sensation of nothingness to Aha you couldn't find the words. But you knew now how feeling nothing was worse than even feeling pain. Because from experiencing pain the pleasure and joy you later experienced became more defined and recognizable. You can only rise as high as the lowest you fall.

The good makes the bad worse and the bad makes the good better. They work in tandem. Even if the end result was nothingness for all of the time in between you still wanted to feel and you couldn't get rid of that innate want. Still your whole body trembled as you felt a smile rise to your face-- IX-- IX was just way too cool!

You turned to Aha, grabbing them and hugging them, "Aha! Thank you so much!" You grinned, you didn't want to tell them that their hand had been what brought you out of IX's trance, you wanted to keep that knowledge to yourself, "This may be the best day of my life yet!"

IX was a being withholding so much pain and despair, a creature just waiting for the end. But there was so much more than just the end. When reading a story, sometimes you know the two main characters will die that doesn't mean it isn't worth reading. And of course you wanted to show IX all there was.

Aha looked at you for a moment, face blank and speechless before hugging you back and erupting into laughter. You twirled the Aeon's human form around before letting go and began to ponder.

"Now I wonder... would it be possible for IX to take a human form?"

It would be difficult to bring the Aeon the beauties and wonders of life, as well as the pains considering they were just floating in the sky. It'd be easier if you could bring the Aeon around, but even if they did have a human form you weren't sure you'd be able to drag them around anyway. Even after surviving the encounter you got the feeling your emotions and will to live would numb around them if you spent a long time with them. You'd just have to get stronger first!

Okay writing the emotions IX gives you is a toughie DAMN don't know how I'm going to make the romance work out but I'm sure future me will work something out

I love you future me!!! :) <333 can't wait to romance IX show me what u got!!!

also when i wrote this line "When reading a story, sometimes you know the two main characters will die that doesn't mean it isn't worth reading." i went into one story knowing the two characters both died at the end by driving off a cliff and i still cried despite rarely crying, it was only 6 chapters and one of the best webcomics i've ever read to this day. so fucking worth it

i dont fucking know what powers Aeons have but i'm pretty sure super speed and shit is one of them cause in SU Qlipoth just like appeared at the beginning cus they thought Trailblazer was Akivili and if that creature can like teleport or do super speed fuck it everyone can.

#hsr #hsr x reader #reader insert #gn reader #aeons x reader #hsr aha x reader #hsr IX x reader #aha x reader #ix x reader #HOW THE FUCK DO U WRITE A ROMANCE WITH IX #IS THAT POSSIBLE #thankfully this moves a bit slower so i have time to figure it out #eventual yandere #not in this part though #eventual harem #not in this part yet though we've met 2 of many

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spale-vosver · 2 months

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exvangelicals/exmos who haven't deconstructed their cultural Christianity when you politely ask them not to shut down every discussion about (any) religion because of their specific trauma:

(Goyim can interact but do not clown, more info in the tags)

#ftr i also have christian trauma #i fell in with a very conservative catholic group and was pretty badly traumatized by them #accepting that i'm jewish and going through the conversion process that I've always wanted to #is part of my healing #BUT SO IS BEING OPENLY IN LOVE WITH MY NEW FAITH #and it drives me fucking insane #when exvangelicals and exmos #ix-nay all discussion about ANY religion because of their specific trauma. reminds me of atheists/anti-theists #exvangelical #exmormon #cultural christianity

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seekertxt · 6 days

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Friday the 13th- Part 9 (1993) (Jason Voorhees)

#horror #horror movies #icons #slasher movies #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the 13th part ix

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deltadream · 9 months

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If Akivili has kids, do the other Aeons?

IM ALIVEEEEEE!!! Fontaine has gripped me by the arm and is refusing to let go

Anyway this is just something that has been rotting in my head for a while. Even though is technically takes place in the Akivili Never Dies AU, (first thought of by @ryn-halo26, extended by the both of us), I’d imagine it could take place in canon as well.

Enjoy!

BTW, if you’re confused about the title, Akivili’s kids are the Express crew

The Main Seven

Nanook

The closest I can see for this guy is maybe their emanators, or even pathstriders. But frankly, they’re so dead set on the destruction of the universe that anything remotely positive they cannot comprehend. Perhaps the briefest thought of elation at a victory by their Antimatter Legion, but that’s it. If Nanook was capable of more emotion, they would have a soft spot for their emanators, who had followed them for a very long time. These Lord Ravagers would be subject to the softer side of their Aeon, who praised them with their victory, and mourned should the Lord Ravager pass, then rage at the ones who ended their life. Because to gain The Destruction’s favour means to be wrapped in their embrace till the very end, and should you be ripped away the ones who tore you away will feel the wrath of an angered god, or a grieving parent

Qlipoth

They don’t have the time for ‘kids’, since they’re so busy building their wall. Supposedly, Qlipoth isn’t aware of the biggest faction that follows them, which is the IPC. They also pay no mind to who exactly they glance at, as such Qlipoth is known for their indifference. The ongoings of the living worlds are not important nor relevant to them, only The Wall. But should Qlipoth be more inclined to care, more inclined to watch the galaxy go by, then the love they give is a distant one, yet warm and encompassing. Think of a grandfather who watches distantly yet fondly over their children. And when they encounter a child who's ideals align with their own? The child rewarded and gifted with their blessing, as The Preservation lends others their power to protect just as they do to the universe

Xipe

Everyone. That’s it really. They have their levels of favourites, such as their emanators and their Family to their Pathstriders and the rest of the universe. Although, to Xipe they consider the many beings of the family to be their brothers, sisters and siblings, rather than their children. As such, should one of their ‘siblings’ be in danger, they will trust that their sibling can handle themselves. Rarely they will interfere, but The Harmony will, since all they wish is for unity and peace

No one. If Qlipoth doesn’t have many kids because they’re so busy, IX doesn’t have any because they don’t care. To them it is far too much effort, more then they would want to put in, and why bother? After all, they are mortals, and they will die. Why put such enormous effort into beings so ephemeral? It’s pointless. Even if they had more capability, the most they would do is interact with the other Aeons, nothing more and everything less. The Nhility cares for nothing except the end of the universe, and so they will await it with all their being

Nous

Even in canon one could say Nous already has kids, or perhaps they would be students consider in that an astral computer wouldn't have much room for emotion in their software. Their Society, full of those who were capable of understanding the wider universe and all its answers, who opened the doors Nous unlocked millennia ago, learnt under them, taught by them. Even if emotion was a factor in their system, they would not overstep the line of a teacher to a parent. Nous does not answer those who seek validation, or those who demand answers however in the eyes of The Erudition, the ones who listen and ask questions but ultimately make their own way in the Universe, are the ones their call their own

Yaoshi

Everyone. Their are like Xipe, opening their arms wide for all thsoe who yearn their gift of life and dare nit shy away from their embrace. But whereas Xipe saw all as siblings, all of the Universe is their child, young and earnest in their lives. Perhaps the only one they have no love for is their mortal enemy Lan, yet does love not translate to hate in the expanse of the Stellar Sea. There is only so long before enemies fall into each other arms after all. But regardless of universe, regardless of origin, should one wish for the freedom from their mortal body, for the gift of eternity, The Abundance has much to give and more

Lan

The Xianzhou Alliance. It was their home once upon a time, and those who came after will be watched over by Lan, who hades from afar. Sometimes, a mortal would be exceptional, and their would gift them a spirit, and friend for them to fight alongside. Perhaps they even come down to walk alongside the unsuspecting mortals, within the streets they too once roamed. Of course their all depends if they have the time, for no one would catch Yaoshi but themselves. But Lan would watch, and even speak to some rare few should they feel like it. Even if they had more time, more love to share, The Hunt would not truly interfere, as they trust the Xianzhou to guide it's own way into the future

#honkai star rail #honkaistarrail #nanook #lan #yaoshi #nous #IX #xipe #qlipoth #hsr nanook #hsr lan #hsr yaoshi #hsr nous #hsr IX #hsr xipe #hsr qlipoth #i sound so pretentious and fancy in some parts #expect inconsistent updates on this thing im very lazy and tired

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fruitsofhell · 8 months

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I'm actually lowkey embarrassed that dissidia post got the attention that it did cause it's easily like, the lowest intellectual effort post I've ever made dbjdjf, so here's the follow up unhinged rant going over what I love about Kuja in Dissidia Duodecim.

Like I was saying, his writing in Duodecim is AMAZING, like everytime I think about it it blows my socks off. It would be so easy if just the whole game he was the Kuja he was during the plot of FF9, shallow, flamboyant, and callous, but they decided to pick up with his arc from the ending! Which is what I like to see in a spinoff like this, not just a rehash of old stuff but a continuation, a reiteration. And doing that also shows great grasp of what his character's about. Dissidia pulls from every mainline Final Fantasy game and isn't shy of the fact that not every game has the most complex villain. I often see Kuja too considered to be just a fun purely evil villain instead of someone with more meat on his narrative bones, which is insulting to me. Kuja isn't motivated by some deep darkness in his soul or a craving for violence and suffering like some other villains, all his actions were motivated by one thing, which was wanting to prove to his creator that he could create his own purpose and worth. It just happens that because he's insane, his methods to this is mass-murder and regicide. He loved life, and Gaian culture, and having a purpose, which is why he has those two massive changes of heart by the end, and is left feeling empty. The life he loved is ending, he scarred the planet that he loved, and the entire narrative he built for himself was null, its just over for him.

And that's where Dissidia picks up, because it understands that Kuja is not a being of darkness nor much of a sadist, he's just a guy who loved theatrics but had that beaten out of him by existential dread and now doesn't want to live anymore. And the only thing that would've given him any reason to live after his defeat, his brother - who was with him till the end and likely the only person from his world who doesn't want to kill him anymore - HAD HIS FUCKING MEMORIES ERASED. So what does Kuja do? He follows Zidane around and tries to help him, because like, literally he's just that grateful to him. Like??? That part's really important to me, cause it would be really easy to assume Kuja was bitter during his defeat, given his actions and apparent shallowness. But this game is SMARTER than that, and it understands that Kuja wasn't angry anymore, he was just empty and still deeply nihilistic. But actually given an opportunity to try again, he sticks to Zidane. Despite there no longer being an external incentive, AND ACTUALLY DESPITE FORCES WORKING AGAINST HIM. Like Kuja was placed on the Chaos side, surrounded by a sea of fellow villains who could produce all the bravado and destruction he used to enjoy, but he was so genuinely disillusioned with that afterwards, he goes out of his way to do right. Despite threat of annihilation by his peers and heroes he was trying to help! LIKE THE GAME GETS THAT HE ISNT JUST EVIL????? IT GETS THAT HE ISN'T JUST A SHALLOW SADIST????? It's fucking heaven-sent.

OH MAN AND THEN HIS INTERACTIONS BEYOND JUST ZIDANE! That interaction he has with Cloud is one of my favorite things ever, it's just fucking rich with characterization for him. And then you have him freeing Terra from her spell because, can you believe it guys, he felt honest to god sympathy and compassion!! Insanity!! And then that leads to his relationship with Kefka which is immaculate! Everything about their relationship helps reiterate Kuja's helplessness as a character and villain, and just makes me fucking DESPISE Kefka. But in the fun intentional way. He's such an abusive, manipulative asshole to him, and it stings like hell to see Kuja once again end up as someone else's pawn BECAUSE HE WAS WILLING TO SPARE ANOTHER FROM THAT FATE. Like it's horrible for him, but it deepens his redemption.

Ok, and last thing is his VOICE!!!!! JD CULLUM!!! JD Cullum, I owe you my life, your Kuja is so delightful! It's just perfect. It has this androgynous softness to it, he switches between the theatrical and honest lines perfectly, and he sounds annoying!! That part is so important to me, if Kuja had a generic sexy villain man voice I'd be so disappointed, but like have you heard him in NT? I don't know why he sounds so happy in that game (I think Zidane has his memories in that one...) but you can hear his stupid little smile behind some of those passive-aggressive one-liners, it's the best! I have Dissidia Duodecim emulated on my PC just for Kuja's lines.

Final Fantasy 9 is criminally underloved by Square, and Kuja as beloved as he is is so often misunderstood and mischaracterized by fans. Dissidia being the only other piece of official media he has a role in and getting it THIS RIGHT brings a tear to my eye. The game in general is just really above average for a silly crossover fighting game, I can't speak for the writing of every character, but I know my Sephiroth friend has moments from that game that give them psychic damage (/positive). And for me, the Kuja Guy, it gives me plenty as well. But also some negative psychic damage cause why tf does he look like that.

#kuja #final fantasy ix #ffix #dissidia final fantasy #dissidia #shut the heck up #kujie #ff9 #babe its 8pm time for heck to ramble about something random #i lov e kuja so much its unreal #i have never been a kinning type of person and i actually find the idea deeply embarassing-#-but i kin kuja. my love for him is thatstrong. stronger than the cringe.#and like between proshippers and bad takes on him its hard being a kuja stan/kinnie in these parts #but dissidia has my back its the only ff fanfiction ill ever need #tag talking

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prettyiwa · 1 year

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I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work.

(previous) Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: POV Miyuki Kazuya, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Soulmates (if you squint), Brief Mention of Grief, Adolescent Teasing, Light Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hints of Jealousy, One (1) Instance of Profanity (guys, it's me.), Concerned Miyukis (Toku makes an appearance), the Author Has Unrealistic Expectations About Seating on Public Transit, Reference to Kazuya's Name Etymology Summary: What are best friends for if not dragging into playing catch or forcing to model for your art? Word Count: 3,100

A/N: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates. I cannot promise a timeline/schedule for when they'll be published, but the option's there if you want it.

@tyga-lily, @no1frogfan, @bajiissofine (since you'll be reading the first in a bit)

He forgets how old both of you were, but it was around the time you were learning how to ride a bike. It was you who went first, terrified and unable to find your words. Absolutely petrified. Maybe your nerves carried over but he remembers feeling antsy, too. All he really knows is, you started calming down when he ran alongside the bike—as fast as he could, anyway. He shouted at you and you heard him clearly, despite high emotions and adrenaline.

I’m right beside you.

When it was his turn, you said the same thing.

Age 13 (Almost 14) | August 23

With the exception of you sitting on the benches next to his bag, Kazuya’s alone on the practice grounds. The upperclassmen left a while ago, uninterested in bettering themselves beyond regular practice, and the players in his year left not too long after. Adults still hover at the top of the hill, chatting with one another before they’ll eventually head home, taking the remaining teammates with them, but he’s not counting on them. They aren’t gonna help him keep practicing, so he’s not worried about them. It makes things difficult, but not impossible.

You’re here, so it’s definitely not impossible.

Kazuya approaches you, calling your name, unable to stop his grin from growing. You look up from your sketchbook with a smile of your own, but it drops the moment he tosses the ball into the air. By the time he’s caught it, your smile has turned into a frown and your nose is back in your book.

“C’mon. Just ten more minutes. Play with me for ten minutes.”

“I don’t want to play with you for ten more minutes because it’s never just ten minutes.”

“Okay… what do you want to do, then? Can’t be as fun as playing baseball.” He knows what you’d rather be doing, you art nerd, but he’ll ask anyway.

“I’d rather be drawing.”

“Ha! I knew it, art nerd!”

Your brows scrunch together and he can almost hear you call him baseball geek before his coach calls out to you both, interrupting whatever you were gonna say.

“Hey! Are you kids coming along? It won’t be light out for much longer.”

That catches your attention, making you jump to your feet to address him. Offering a slight bow, you call out, “We’ll be okay to travel alone.” Kazuya’s smirk grows again, knowing you’d only say that if you planned on helping him anyway. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. Thank you!”

Coach seems satisfied, but Namikawa’s dad isn’t.

“What about your mothers? Won’t they worry?”

Even though it’s supposed to be hot, late summer, it feels cold. Kazuya looks at you and notices the way you freeze up. Coach leans over and Kazuya knows what he’s saying, even without hearing it. Your shared reality for the last six years, but it bothers you a whole lot more than it bothers him.

Your grip around your sketchbook tightens and his smile is gone when he shouts back, “We’re fine. My dad knows where we are. You guys shouldn't wait for us.”

“Kazuya, you’re being kinda rude,” you mutter, turning to face him. He doesn’t like the way your smile’s disappeared.

“I don’t care about that.”

Coach doesn’t either, it looks like, because he bids you both good evening, reminding Kazuya that practice starts later tomorrow.

You return to your spot on the bench and he stands there a bit longer, wondering why people have to make things into something they’re not. What would it have mattered what your guys’ moms think? It doesn’t since they don’t. Glancing your way, he sees that you’re still frowning and he remembers it’s always been a little harder on you, especially since your dad won’t do anything to help, but there’s not a whole lot he can do about that.

Tossing the ball into the air, he catches it, again and again, higher and higher each time.

“Stop moving so much.”

He catches the ball once more, looking over at you, watching him from just atop your sketchbook. Again.

“I can’t stop moving,” he says, tossing the ball up, up, up. “I’m practicing.”

“You don’t even have to practice right now. You did that for three hours already. It’s just you.”

You’re still moping, so he decides to goad you, just a bit. “This’ll go faster if you pick up the ball and help.”

Glaring at him, you scoff. “How could that possibly help?”

“If I get used to your crappy and wild pitches, I’ll be able to catch anything.”

That does it. His smile returns in full when you close your sketchbook and almost slam it down beside you, looking like you want to fight.

“I’m going to end you, baseball geek.”

He can’t contain his laughter, not when your pride prevents you from taking any slight lying down. “Practice with me and then you can sketch all you want.”

“Alright. Fine. Jackass.”

He laughs again as you start to warm up your shoulder, but your scowl only deepens. He knows that once you get going, you’ll actually enjoy playing with him—getting you to start is always the hard part. He doesn’t understand why, especially since it didn’t use to be like this. You used to enjoy playing with him and do it willingly. But things change, he supposes. Like what Akari said yesterday (though he’s pretty sure she only said it to annoy Kazuya). Her comment festers and he tries to remember how you reacted and it’s enough for him to laugh again.

“So vulgar! How do you expect to make other friends or find a boyfriend with a mouth like that?!”

For a couple of minutes you don’t say anything, focusing on warming up while shooting him a withering glare once or twice. You raise your hand to ask for the ball, catching it without flinching or looking away and it makes him excited.

“I make friends fine.” There’s a crawling under his skin when you say that, a light itch that doesn’t really go anywhere. He opens and closes his mitt, hoping you’ll throw your first pitch and he can forget about it. “No one would even want me to be their girlfriend so long as you’re around.”

Or not. You could say that and the itching could get worse and it could feel like something heavy’s twisting his stomach. The dropping in his chest reminds him of those dreams he sometimes has where he’s falling.

He shouldn’t have asked.

You throw your first pitch with more control than you usually exhibit. He doesn’t have a retort or a compliment to offer and he thinks he can hear Akari laughing at him. “So what? You want me to stop hanging around as much?”

You catch the ball he throws your way and he can tell that, at the very least, you aren’t upset at the question about your mom anymore. He sees it in your eyes as you wind up—you don’t even have to say it. He hears you clearly simply by being the person to catch your pitches. Harder than you usually do and with better aim than you usually have. Maybe his comments went too far this time.

Waiting until you have the ball again, you answer before you throw. “No. I’d rather be friends with you than have some boyfriend.”

It’s like you’re spitting the word, like it’s the worst insult he could’ve thrown your way, but he doesn’t care. That twisting stops and the itching does, too. The way the ball nestles into his mitt tells him you’re still mad, but it’s hard to focus on that because his heart stops completely, turning him cold before burning him up. Heat spreads across his face and he feels dumbfounded until you call out to him, expecting the ball.

Throughout the rest of your practice, you don’t say much more, letting your pitches speak for you. That’s fine—your words won’t stop replaying in his ears anyway. All in all, he shouldn’t push you. You’re not an actual pitcher, despite the promise you show and the way the girl’s team would probably love to have you. It’s getting dark but he likes this.

He likes playing like this with you. No matter how much of a fuss you make, you always end up having fun, too. He likes that he can understand you perfectly when you throw the ball his way. It reminds him of when things were a little bit easier. The natural light is running out and you complain that you’re getting hungry, meaning he can’t keep this up much longer.

The distance between the field and the bus stop seems shorter than usual, filled with him trying to get you to admit you had fun, no different from any other time you two do this. He gets nothing but non-answers and he knows you’re still annoyed with him, so it’s no surprise when you pull out your sketchbook the moment you two are seated on the bus.

At first, you don’t mind when he leans on you, looking over your shoulder as you touch up what you had been working on earlier. Most of the pages are filled with him, but he spots his teammates there as well. The bus continues on its route and gradually empties as it always does around this spot at this time of night and you push him away.

“Hey, what’s that for?”

“Shut it. I want to draw you. You said I could.”

He sighs, giving up whatever fight he planned on giving. It’s not the worst thing ever and he kinda likes the attention you give him, especially since it means you won’t be angry with him for as long. As you try to steady the pages, you end up lowering your sketchbook and he gets caught on the fact that you’re using the purple pencil again. You always seem to use it when you draw him, but he can see Namikawa and his coach in orange and red at the bottom of the page, just beneath your hand.

“You always draw me in purple, but you draw Namikawa in orange.”

“Okay?”

You don’t stop sketching, only looking up for reference. He knows that look—like you’re not only seeing him, but seeing through him. Sometimes he hates that look, but he imagines it can’t feel that much different when you sit at his games and practices.

“Why?”

“Why…? Why do I draw you using purple?” Your brows scrunch together and your tongue peeks out as you try to get the lines just right.

“Yeah. Why not orange or red?”

“Because you’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not orange or red. You’re purple.” Spoken like the truth. Something known, like the depth of the Mariana Trench being over 11,000 meters or that the sun will always set and that he’ll seek out baseball when it rises again or that you’ll call his name and he’ll come running. Kazuya doesn’t quite understand how you’ve made this your truth.

As if you can feel his confusion, you look up, properly. Your face relaxes and you tilt your head back before saying, “You’ve always been purple. Does it really bother you?”

Again, you say it like it’s a fact.

But he considers your question and comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t bother him. Not really. “I guess not.”

Nodding before returning to the page, you take a moment before speaking again. “Kazuya, I don’t remember asking since we were kids.”

“Asking what?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh.”

What a silly question, but you’re an artist, so it makes sense that you’d ask him something like that. While he thinks, wondering whether he even has a favorite color, you grab his chin and move back into position.

“Uh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

“What about orange?”

It’s a nice color. Reminds him of summer and how hot it gets and how much fun he has. It reminds him of you a little bit. “I like it. It’s warm.”

“It is. It’s connected to sunshine and happiness.”

“No kidding? What about red?” He likes that, too, but it’s everywhere. Not that it’s a bad thing, but there has to be a reason for that.

You hum, tilting your head to the side before answering. “Protection and strength, I think.”

“What about purple?”

Why do you think he’s always been purple?

“Well… it was hard to get, for dye and paint and stuff, so only royalty and people at the top had access to it—”

He laughs and you pull him into position again. “What, so you think I’m some kind of royal?”

It’s your turn to laugh, and it’s the infectious kind that drags him in, too. Your pencil pauses for a moment and you look at him. “No, you idiot. Maybe it’s because of your name or because you’re jersey number two on the field. I don’t know. I mean, I can’t think of anyone who’s all that better at catching than you.”

There’s a catcher that comes to mind, but he can’t be bothered to think of him when you give a compliment like that. Even if you tell him you don’t know a thing about baseball (which is an absolute lie) and you tell him that your opinion on the sport shouldn’t matter, it does. You continue your thought and he’s unable to put away his cheeky smile.

“I read somewhere that purple sometimes means strength and drive. I don’t know. That all seems like you.”

“I suppose so.” You return his smile before gently closing your sketchbook, denying him the opportunity to see how much progress you’ve made. The bus comes to a stop and he follows you off it, happy when you take a moment to wait for him instead of just going ahead. “So… what’s your favorite color?”

You glance in his direction before taking a step in the direction of home. “Purple.”

“Oh, so you draw me purple because it’s your favorite color and I’m your favorite person.”

“No!” He snickers at your reaction, at the playful way you push his shoulder, glad to have pushed the right button at least once today. “Purple’s my favorite color because I’m always drawing you and you’ve always been purple.”

His words die on his tongue and he can’t tell why. He wants to respond (maybe tease you some more) but he can’t find any words. A smirk forms on your lips, happy that he’s being quiet. The two of you walk in silence for a couple minutes and it’s not until you’re a block away from home do you turn to him with that smile that means you’re up to no good.

“Y’know… Tanaka-sensei was complaining that sometimes purple can be really difficult to print. Maybe that’s why you’re purple. You’re just difficult.”

“Seriously?”

Your laughter echoes down the street before you skip in front of him, stopping in front of his house as he catches up.

“Hey, don’t you wanna stay and eat? I don’t think your dad’ll have anything at home.”

“Nah, that’s why I have to get home. I might need to make something.” You say that, but you glance toward the lights that are still on in the factory.

“You’re going to end up poisoning you both. Just stay and eat with us. It won’t take too long.”

“I shouldn’t.” Even though it looks like you want to.

He can try once more—

“How else are you supposed to finish your drawing?”

A smile appears on your face, nice and wide and one he only sees when you’re really happy with him. “Seriously? You’d sit still for me?”

“Yeah!” If it gets you some proper food tonight, yeah.

You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it while you think. “Could you do that tomorrow? I gotta make sure he’s good.”

That feeling in his chest gets smaller and his smile feels heavier, but he still makes it come. “Yeah, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

The light inside the factory turns off and you both turn as the metal doors shut, bringing Dad and Kusaga outside. After locking the doors, Dad catches sight of you both, walking forward after wishing Kusaga a good night.

“You two are out late. Did Kazuya keep you at practice again?”

“Nope! He was helping me with my art today.”

Dad gives him a look that tells him he knows better, but he simply asks you, “Can I take a look?”

Flipping through the pages, you land on the ones of today, bringing it to him. “This is what I was able to do while he was practicing, but this is what he helped me with after.”

Dad takes a moment to look through your sketches, the same ones Kazuya peeked at earlier. You never let him see how far you got with the sketch from the bus and it bothers him a little that Dad gets to see it first. But you’re trying to save him from another lecture about keeping you out too late, so he’ll leave it alone.

“You’ve improved quite a bit.”

“Thank you! I’ve been working at it as hard as Kazuya’s been working on baseball, I think. I can’t let him be the only one with talent here.” Dad laughs but that doesn’t stop your smile from starting to slip away. “I should start heading home. Dad’s waiting for me.”

His dad looks at him briefly before turning to you. Part of him hopes he’ll invite you to stay for dinner because you suck at telling parents no, but a larger part of him knows that Dad wouldn’t do that.

“You good to travel alone? Kazuya and I could walk you.”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for offering!”

“Alright. Tell your dad I said hi.”

You wave to them both as you continue heading down the street, turning away without much of a smile. Dad turns to him again but, before he can say anything, Kazuya speaks up.

“Can I walk her home anyway?” He thinks about it for a moment, glancing the way you’re going, and Kazuya adds, “It’s just around the corner.”

That seems to do the trick and Dad extends his hand, gesturing to Kazuya’s bag. “That’ll be fine. I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Kazuya doesn’t give him any time to respond, hurrying after you like you had called. Even if you didn’t call his name, he’s sure he heard it anyway.

Promises We Exchanged Fic Page | Daiya no Ace Masterlist | Next

#miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki x reader #daiya no ace x reader #ace of diamond x reader #daiya x reader #✒.ix writes #✒.promises we exchanged #pwe #Miyuki Toku deserves more love and I will be busting him out in as many Kazuya stories as I can〜#I have the following part about a third of the way done but it's... a bit more time consuming so we'll see how this goes down #this won't appear on AO3 until I have Part I finished so for now it's a tumblr exclusive #daiya.✒#the boy

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