#sorry this is the only way i could summ my thoughts

[skybristle]

#sorry this is the only way i could summ my thoughts #sky rambles #rain world #rw watcher #rw nightcat

[bangct]

A bit jealous?

Pairing: Ot7 x FEM reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst, slight nsfw

Warning: y/s is a crybaby, she's jealous and it shows, Yoongi is sorry but won't have it, aside from that, this is fluffy comfort and words of love. Choking, just a little bit, suggestive thoughts and that's it i think.

Summ: Being in a secret relationship with "the" band of the moment was by far an odyssey, it was not a secret how jealous you could get sometimes, and they would do things on purpose to make you mad, even when you tried not to show it, however not feeling quite good that specific day had an effect on you, and seeing you boyfriends have a little too much fun with 'that' girl made you lose it.

Word count : 13k(msorry)

Date: April, 19 2022

a/n: Right, I'm posting this as a first story, i had this in my drafts for so long I just needed to throw it out. I don't remember the time i wrote so it might not be that good, but i don't wanna loose it so il leave it here. i usually post nsfw but i wanted to start soft and I'll eventually show the dark side of this lol. I appreciate a good feedback, so do not hesitate, also be constructive not destructive.

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The headache I had was becoming unbearable, I had been assigned to cover for a stylist who had called in sick, and of course, the staff was not going to risk the  members by keeping a sick hairstylist. It was these moments that reminded me why I only worked in the music area and not as a stylist or makeup artist, of course I was capable to do it, but my patience was not so much under pressure, so once we had finished, I didn't hesitate to throw myself on the couch in the dressing room, my head was throbbing and my mood was going downhill. Several minutes had already passed and on the monitoring screen I could see how the guys were having fun and laughing in that interview. I got distracted for a moment and when I turned to see the screen again, I saw the girl who had been causing so much controversy but so much joy for the BTS fans, Halsey.

So, great, Halsey was there, as a surprise I guess, I couldn't hold back the smile that adorned my lips, I liked seeing them like that, genuinely happy, and Halsey was a good person, at least as far as I had known her, I was never a big fan of her music, but she seemed to get along with them, so it was all good. 

The minutes passed and I was starting to get irritated with the way they were looking at her, although I wasn't going to deny my jealousy, I've always tried to stay out of it and not get carried away with my thoughts, however, the headache and my mood seemed to say otherwise and my annoyance only increased. My eyes wouldn't leave Jimin, who seemed quite comfortable being almost on top of her. 

Can't they give her her own microphone? 

Ugh, I wanted to stop watching them, it was starting to annoy me too much, I tried to calm down but couldn't, their bracelets, their matching outfits, ah, and what was that? Perfect mentioned Yoongi, of course, perfect. 

I felt my blood boiling, so i decided to get up and go to the car, I knew it was the last interview of the day, so I went to manager Sejin and asked him if I could go to the car, he clearly noticed my state and as always in his concern, he asked if everything was ok. 

"I am, there is nothing to worry about, you know how much these interviews stress me out, I just need to rest." Sejin narrowed his eyes without believing much in my words but he let me go, I mentally thanked him for not asking more questions, while I was gathering my things I could hear the commotion that the guys were making as they came back, I tried to do it as fast as possible so I could escape, but it was impossible.

I watched as they entered one by one, I frowned when I noticed that Namjoon was not there, but seconds later I saw him enter the dressing room together with Halsey, wonderful, just what I needed...

She saw me and smiled broadly, something that only made me feel terrible.

"y/n!!! What a surprise, I haven't seen you in a while, I'm so glad you're here." Without thinking about it, Halsey came closer and wrapped me in a tight hug, kissed my cheek and smiled even wider than before. "I was just asking Joon about you, it's good that you are accompanying him in these things, it can get tedious and it's great to have someone to take you out of the routine even for a moment, isn't it Joonie?" 

Joonie?

The audacity of this woman, I restrained the urge to roll my eyes, and it seemed that Namjoon noticed it, since I got a glimpse of the way his frown was furrowing, I tried to put on my best smile and cleared my throat to be able to answer, at this point, the rest of the guys seemed to be very interested in what I had to say.

" Yes, it's so good seeing you too, I'm glad to hear that your collaboration is going in the best direction. I listened to it and well, you have a beautiful voice that suits it amazingly." While my words were genuine, the following was clearly a very direct dig at the seven who seemed pleased with my response. 

"I mean, the guys have already told you how perfect and wonderful you are, I guess I have nothing more to say after such praise, I don't blame them, they are absolutely right." The smile on her face told me that she definitely had no idea about the reality of things, while looking at the guys, I could tell the hint of surprise and confusion at what I had said. 

"Now, I really hate to say goodbye, but there's a car waiting for me, it was nice to see you, i hope to see you in the future, and congrats on the song. I'm sure it will go great." Without further ado, I gave her a short hug, grabbed my stuff and headed to the door. Of course the guys were even more confused, and I was more irritated than ever.

 As soon as I was home I didn't hesitate to rush to the shower, wanting to scrub the stress out of me with soap. Once ready, I changed into my most comfortable pajamas and jumped into bed. 

My head still felt like it was about to explode, and it definitely got worse when I heard the sound of the door opening. I think it was the first time in 7 years of our relationship that I hated hearing the sound of the door opening. 

I tried to pretend to fall asleep while the noise increased, a few seconds passed, and I noticed how suddenly silence was the only thing that filled the place. Just when I was about to get up, the door to my room opened, and a black-haired man peeked his head out looking for a sign to enter.

"Noona? Can I come in?" Jungkook, it was more than obvious that they would send Jungkook to check that everything was okay. 

"Yes, you can come in" my voice sounded muffled and somewhat irritated, which made jungkook frown.

I watched as he closed the door to my room and approached the bed. I looked at him from where I stood and couldn't help but sigh as I noticed the youngest of the seven, he was still in the same clothes from the interview but no makeup or shoes. He smiled at me and didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed, his hands traveled to my waist and in a second he pulled me to him, squeezing me and clinging me to his chest. I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips the moment I felt him close, my arms moved on their own and wrapped around him tightly, hugging him as if I was afraid he was going to disappear. 

"What's wrong, Noona? You left without even saying goodbye, do you feel sick? Do you need me to call the doctor?" I quickly denied all his words, instead I hugged him tightly, feeling my eyes start to sting, which only indicated one thing, crying. 

Jungkook pulled me away from him and cradled my face in his hands, concern filling his face.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong, I hate  seeing you like this, please." His words made my heart flutter, I knew that they all worried about me, and Jungkook had always made it clear, it was endearing.

"I'm just stressed and tired, I'm exaggerating, don't mind me."  I grunted and lifted my face showing that all traces of crying were gone. He smiled, caressed my cheeks and moved closer to meet his lips with mine, I sighed and didn't hesitate to reciprocate, I loved the taste of his lips against mine, his hands traveled to my waist once again and he squeezed me gently, making me gasp slightly at the sensation.

 He pulled away as he let out a light chuckle, which made me blush in a second.

 "Cute" he murmured before leaving a small peck on my lips. "I'm sorry the hyungs made you feel bad, you know we all love you the same way and there's nothing or no one that will make us change our minds."

His words took me by surprise, making me lower my gaze for a moment in sorrow. I bit my lower lip and did not hesitate to hug him once again. I was so lost in his arms that I didn't notice the door opening once more, until I felt the bed slightly undulating next to me, clearly on the side where Jungkook was not. I pulled away from him slightly and turned my face to see Namjoon sitting there looking at me with a pout, yoongi and Jimin were also there, while hoseok, taehyung and jin were standing at the foot of the bed.

"We are truly sorry, you know we love you more than anyone else, and there is no one who can replace you." This time Jimin spoke softly, a slight pout on his lips and seemed to want to get closer, but he looked hesitant. The rest of the boys looked almost desperate, looking for an answer from me, anything to tell them that everything was okay.

I bit my lips and didn't know what to say, as I was quite embarrassed, Halsey had a boyfriend and her relationship with the boys was evidently professional and work related, of course, they were friends, but only that. I turned to Jungkook and hugged him tightly, hiding my face in his chest, which made him giggle. He didn't hesitate to put his arms around me and leave a kiss in my hair. 

"She is clearly annoyed with you, I was clearly interested in snacks, losers." Jungkook laughed and as soon as he stopped I felt a pair of hands grabbing me from behind.

A gasp escaped my lips, and when I realized, Namjoon was pulling me to him, leaving me on his lap, which only made my face turn into all shades of red. 

"Baby...Please don't be upset, I'm really sorry, you know it's all business, I never meant to make you feel bad." His words came out almost in a whisper, and of course, he was right, I was overreacting because of my annoyance and irritation.

"She called you Joonie" an unconscious pout appeared on my lips making the dimpled man laugh, and I swear I could hear the others let out slight giggles. 

"You know I'm yours, baby, only yours, no need to feel jealous." His hands traveled to my face to caress it gently. Having the rest of the guys there, made it all quite familiar, being all together in my room, me on Joon's lap, yes, it was definitely all quite familiar, although the context was quite different, if you know what I mean....

Anyway, my thoughts were starting to consume me wandering way too far from what was happening, memories of other occasions filled me and I couldn't contain myself from biting my lips. Of course Namjoon noticed. He always does, as a low chuckle came out of his mouth making me feel almost like floating, one of his hands caressed my face while the other one went down to my waist. 

"What are you thinking of, love? That mind of yours flies so fast, care to share?"

He murmured In a low tone that always made my knees weak and my head fuzzy.

"Hyung, you are making her blush too much, let us at least say something too" it was Taehyung who came closer to pull me into his arms, without waiting he started to fill my face with kisses as well as apologies for making me feel bad. 

"Jagi, you know we love you, I love you the most but that's a different conversation, please forgive us." 

Well, it was definitely a  hard image to resist, just when I was about to say something I heard several grumbles from the others, who were complaining at taehyung's words.

"Yah, you don't love her more than us, brat" said Jin, coming closer to stand near me, as well as Yoongi and Hoseok who looked amused at the situation. 

"I'm sorry I reacted like that, I was irritated and tired, but you know I didn't mean it, I love you guys it won't happen again." At this I felt how more arms tried to wrap around me without really succeeding, I noticed how Yoongi stayed behind, looking at everything with a smile. It seemed like Jungkook noticed it, so he threw a pillow at the older one while laughing.

"Yah, Hyung, aren't you going to hug her? I think she was most upset with you when she saw us in the dressing room." Said Jungkook while still laughing lightly, making Yoongi blush, something that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room.  The aforementioned scratched the back of his neck, not really knowing what to do, Hoseok left a space next to him and pulled his hand to bring him closer to the bunch of bodies on my bed. 

"Don't be shy hyungnim, it's been almost 8 years, get over it already." With that comment, Hoseok got a kick from Yoongi and laughter from the other five in the room. Yoongi reached over and grabbed my face to close the distance and kiss my lips, which I didn't expect. Yoongi was usually reserved when it came to affection, so it was a bit of a surprise when he kissed me. His hands roamed over my waist and torso. It was looking all innocent, until his hand wrapped around my neck with some strength, my eyes went big and of course, my face turned red. He looked at me with some intensity and something else I couldn't describe, as he came closer to my face, I could hear how my other boyfriends were whispering God knows what. 

"I don't want to hear again that you are jealous, I don't want to take other actions, although I'm sure you wouldn't mind those." He smiled and oh god, it was that smile that made me turn into a quivering mess. I wanted to say something but I was way too focused on him to even do something. "I need you to understand that you are ours, and if you're ours there is no human force that will manage to make us stop loving you, so quit it, or we'll show you how it is."

A quite high moan escaped from my lips,it was now a different atmosphere, before I knew it, hands were once again trailing all over my body, they were soft but it was a matter of time for them to turn into something else.

"Please show me.."

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #polyamarous #ot7 x yn #bangtan smut

[zuluc]

@kookieyachi​ requested: i hate to be that one person but i doubt they'll increase the rate but imma try my best & start saving for zhongli & childe 😼🤚 anYWAY-, i was wondering if u could write another diluc x reader whr they're in a secret relationship (only kaeya knew somehow-) & one of the mcs & paimon heard rumours of diluc having a s/o & decide to follow him, to see him gg on a date w the reader or summ,,, hope its not too confusing haha🥺💖

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i meant rng rates those screw me over when it matters but i hope we get good ones when their banners come in, i wish the best of luck to everyone pulling may we get our dream teams; THIS IS CUTE ty for all your requests you know what’s good 😪😪

the mc in this is aether because i love aether

���I hear someone has Master Diluc’s heart!”

“Is that so?”

“Aw, man! I wanted him...”

It’s been the talk of the town for longer than he expected and wanted it to be: Diluc’s love life. He was always the private one and never shared anything about his personal life so it was only natural that no one, minus Kaeya it seemed, had a clue as to who took Mondstadt’s most wanted bachelor.

“Are they sure he’s even with someone? Isn’t it just a rumor?” Paimon asks her travel companion as they make their way into the tavern for a late night drink. The pair had travelled back to the town for a few days and while walking through they listened in on what the townspeople were gossiping about this time around.

“Not sure, he doesn’t seem like the type. Why not ask him, Paimon?” 

Paimon flies in front of his face and places her hands on her hips, “You don’t just ask him! He’s so secretive and... and well just that! Also, Paimon thinks he’d just avoid the question.”

“You won’t know it’ll work if you never try.” Aether suggests and opens the door to the tavern. He himself actually wanted to know the truth to those rumors because, well think about it, it’s Diluc and any information that made him seem more emotional than he let on was interesting. He steps inside, seeing the people inside drinking and laughing. They all greet him with their cheerful, yet drunk replies, and Diluc nods his head in acknowledgement. 

“Welcome back. What’ll it be for tonight?” He asks them. Aether places his drink order and Paimon hovers over the bartender with a judging look on her face. Convenient that he is working tonight. He raises a brow, “Can I help you?”

“U-Uh,” she turns her attention to Aether who simply looks back at her and sips his apple cider vinegar, a look of you’re on your own for this one on his face. “Have you heard what’s being said around Mondstadt, Master Diluc?” She asks in a way to slowly lead into the main question. Diluc picks up a glass and shakes his head, turning around to place the item on one of the shelves. 

“I’ve never paid attention to gossip if that’s what you’re referring to. And like I’ve said before,” he eyes the emergency ration suspiciously, “I don’t dwell on idle chat.” Those words, while they weren’t intended to be as cold as they sounded, prevented Paimon from pressing on. She pouts while flying, but her gaze lands on his hands. They are void of his usual gloves and Diluc wore them even while working. She brushes it off as a useless observation and the door of the tavern opens. 

“Evening!” Charles greets them. He waves a hand to Diluc who finishes the last of the glasses he is cleaning, silently thanking the bartender for taking the rest of his shift. He walks out the back and Paimon floats up.

“Does he have something else to do? He usually stays for the rest of the night.” She questions Charles who shakes his head in amusement.

“He must be working hard,” Charles comments, “or maybe taking some time for himself.” Paimon perks up at what he says and she looks at Aether. The traveller finishes his drink and narrows his eyes at her.

“What?” He barely gets another word in before she is rushing out the door. “Paimon!” He places mora on the counter and bids Charles a good night before following her. The door swings open and Aether is met with Paimon flying in front of his face.

“We’ll follow him!” She states confidently, a glint in her eyes.

Aether stares at her blankly. “Uh, why?” Again, she doesn’t give him an answer when she sees a flash of red hair behind his head. They keep quiet and hide behind the stone building when they see Diluc look side to side, almost catching them in his sight.

“He’s definitely going somewhere!” She is much more invested in this than Aether thought, but his own curiosity was overpowering the possibility of getting caught by the pyro user as well. He wordlessly agrees and they quietly tread behind him through Mondstadt, hiding behind every pole and wall whenever they thought he believed someone was following him.

Minutes into their mission Aether catches sight of the Knight of Favonius building and his suspicions are raised. Diluc wouldn’t be caught dead near this place, what more just by walking by it? He stops at the side and Aether tugs his hovering companion away from Diluc’s line of sight when it opens, a familiar person stepping out.

“It’s--!”

“Honorary Knight!” Huffman interrupts Paimon’s exclamation as he rushes to the both of them. “Would you be able to help us out near Windrise? Quite a lot of slimes showed up and the other knights are preoccupied with their own missions. I know you just got back but...”

“We’re good!” Another knight shows up, running to them, “Captain Kaeya helped us out!” Aether looks back and forth between then before looking at the door. It seems that the person and Diluc had already left. 

“Ah, I see. Sorry to intrude on your evening.” Huffman excuses himself and leaves with the other knight. Paimon flies towards the empty stairs, floating around premises as if looking for clues.

“Paimon saw y/n! Do you think they’re together?” She questions. 

“Isn’t that too much of an assumption?” Paimon floats to Aether’s face with mock anger on her features. “Maybe they could just be well-acquainted.”

“Let’s just see who’s right then! I bet...” she places a finger to her chin, “...5000 mora!”

“You don’t even carry mora.”

--

The commissions burned you out but you are more than happy to see what awaits you after you leave the building. Bidding Jean goodbye, you settle into your coat and push the doors open. He’s standing there waiting like he said he would and you notice there is no one around, though you had an inkling that someone was watching you. You are broken out of your thoughts when Diluc’s warm hand cups your face. He was initiating more touches after becoming comfortable in your relationship, so you felt happy that he could do so outside though with no one to see.

To you, it was hard to believe that you managed to attract him in the first place, considering his many suitresses, but despite that he insisted that it was you he was after.

“Something the matter?” He asks gently, removing his hand when he could hear steps behind him. You shake your head and smile at him causing his heart to warm at the sight. “Good, shall we?”

Your dates aren’t like the usual ones. You walk around the sides of Mondstadt when everyone is asleep as you both share what has gone on in your day. Sometimes, you even take a stroll outside the city and sit under the large tree in Windrise, watching the stars twinkle. Going on many secret rendezvous were fun and brought an excitement and mystery to both of your lives when they occured. 

But even so, sometimes you wondered what it would be like if the townspeople knew. 

Diluc never explicitly mentioned that he wanted the whole town to know and you both came to the conclusion that keeping your relationship from the public would be beneficial. He was known to be aloof yet protective of Mondstadt. He had a reputation to uphold and the enemies would otherwise have vital information to his weaknesses if they came to know of your connection.

You know he loves you, he tells you every night before you have to part until you see each other the next day. And any doubt in your mind is gone when your hand is held tightly in his.

--

“Paimon, we’ve been following them for too long. They’re just talking.” Aether felt uncomfortable doing what they were doing and spying on the both of you. He watches the both of you engage in a regualr conversation. After losing sight of you at the Knights of Favonious building they glided around trying to track you both. He couldn’t see that your hands were intertwined due to how your coat concealed it. 

“Ahh! Fine, we should go rest,” Paimon says defeatedly, “Paimon can’t believe she lost 5000 mora!” Aether rolls his eyes and jumps down from the roof to head to a nearby inn. The streets are quiet but there are audible footsteps from their right as they move through the houses.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you back in town.” Kaeya greets him with the usual lilt to his voice. “Why are you two still up?”

“We were following Master Diluc because we think he’s seeing someone!” Paimon really has no shame, does she? Aether thinks to himself and he looks up at the Cavalry Captain when the latter lets out a light chuckle. 

“What an interesting activity... I do hope you find your answer,” Kaeya nods his head to direct it behind them. Aether and Paimon follow his direction and see the two they had been trailing for the past hours. “Good night.”

“I almost forgot!” The duo’s ears perk at the sound of your voice. You and Diluc are at the front of your home and their eyes widen at the sight of your hand in his. You reach into your coat pocket to pull out his gloves, “You left them here.”

“Thank you,” Diluc replies, lifting the hand he held to his lips and kissing the back. “Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Diluc.” The smile on your face is ever radiant and he leans down for his kiss. You oblige but pull away to lean closer to his ear, “It seems that we have company.” Your hold leaves him and you open your door, disappearing inside. Diluc turns his head and sees the shocked faces of the traveller and ration. 

“Paimon wins.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc

[quillsareswords]

Hi! I love your writing! I’m having a rough night & was maybe sovereign if you could do a Damian x reader for me? Maybe, like, reader needs someone to talk to or summ and she calls Damian ? Anything is wonderful onviously that’s just what I’m thinking about lol❤️ your writing is awesome and ilysm!!

I know I'm late!! I'm so sorry! But I hope you can use this the next time you need it! I love you and I'm sorry you have bad days. If I could pull it out of you, I would.

Prompt List • Masterlist (in bio)

He picks up on the fifth ring. Right about the time you're second guessing yourself for calling at all.

"Hello?"

Your mind slows down a little at just the sound of his voice. Your shaky breathing tips him off before you can formulate a reply.

"Is everything alright?"

You exhale again. He isn't leaving you any room to give an excuse and hang up. Bless him. "Hey, Dame. I'm– um, yeah, I'm okay. I just, uh," you stop yourself as your voice wavers. You bite down hard on your lip and focus on the feel of your bathtub basin against your back through your shirt. Smooth and cool, solid and grounding. There's no water in the tub, of course. You just wanted to sit somewhere quiet where you could try to calm down. Thus far, it wasn't working.

"(Y/N)?" He sounds tense.

"I'm here, I'm sorry." The words are on the tip of your tongue, but you aren't sure you should say them.

He's busy. He's always busy. He leads three separate lives, of course he's always busy. He doesn't need to deal with your problems, too. He has a city to save, a degree to chase, and appearances to keep.

"(Y/N), talk to me. What's the matter? Why do I hear an echo?"

You try to steady yourself. He's relentless, you know that. At this point, even if you could lie your way out of this phone call, he'll call you right back, and if you don't answer, he'll drive over. He doesn't leave you a choice, really. "It's getting bad, again," you breathe.

You feel guilty immediately. It makes you want to cry again, and because you're too emotionally exhausted to fight it off a fourth time, your tears well up in tour eyes. He doesn't need this. He doesn't want to deal with this, but he feels like he has to when you call him like this. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

You hear shuffling on his end of the line. Jingling. Titus barks as Damian whispers something away from the receiver. "I'm coming over. We can talk if you'd like, or I can stop for food, or we can watch something. I'd be happy to sit in silence, if that's what you need."

You snuffle. "You really don't have to–"

"(Y/N). I know I don't have to. I want to. I'm getting into my car now. Where are you?"

You pull your knees up to your chest. Eyes dart up tour plastic shower curtain. You cheek rests on one knee. "Home. I'm sitting in my bathtub."

"Okay. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, that's alright."

"Okay. I'll let myself in. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

He hangs up, and you're left to silence again. It's deafening. Your thoughts start scuttling back, the paranoia and the anxiety gnawing at you while the depression distracts you. It's a group effort to destroy you.

Twenty minutes. Just that, and then you'll have Damian. He'll help. He always does. He feels obligated, you anxiety snarls. He has bigger things to worry about than one of your episodes.

You're too deep in your thoughts to hear your bedroom door open. You jump when the bathroom door clicks.

You hear claws on the tile, and before you can react, Titus is shoving his head past the curtain and licking your arm, delighted to see you again. You smile immediately, turning your posture toward him and rubbing your hands all over his face. "Hey, baby," you coo.

Damian gently pulls the curtain back. He isn't exactly dressed casually. You feel guilty again. He must have just gotten home. In his hands, a paper drink holder and a paper Sonic bag. He takes a tall styrofoam cups from one corner and holds it out to you. The Sonic logo grins down at you like an old friend. "I know you probably aren't hungry now," he says, "but I thought you'd enjoy this now."

You take it gratefully, and nod. There's a knot in your throat again.

He sets the bag and singularly occupied drink holder on the toilet lid, pulls the other side of the curtain open, and steps in with you. His sits down in front of the faucet, legs crossed. He takes out his drink. Titus lays down in front of the tub, resting his chin on the edge so you can continue getting him.

Damian's eyes are soft. You feel weepy again, and you hate yourself for it. Why do you get like this? Why does he put up with you?

"I love you," he reminds, gently. He says it like you may have forgotten, like the information got lost in the chaos of your thoughts today. "I'm glad that you called me. I don't like the idea of you sitting here by yourself all day."

You can only nod, poking your straw around an Oreo milkshake.

"Hey," he cranes his head to catch your eyes, "I mean it. Always call me. I want to be here for you."

Your eyes well up again, so you bite down on tour lip, hard, and nod again.

He set his drink aside, leans up awkwardly to press a kiss to your lips. It isn't deep, but it's packed with adoration and affection and the promise of I'm here because I want to be. "Don't bite your lip like that. If you need to cry, my love, cry, and I will be your shoulder. If you need to talk, I will listen. If you want only my company, I'll offer it wholly. Never regret asking me for anything, Beloved."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne blurb

[emmajh97-mumaji]

"YOUR TWIN SISTER BETRAYED ME! YOUR DAMN SEMBLANCE KILLED SUMMER! And now my daughters are dead because YOU FAILED TO PROTECT THEM!"

"T-tai I--"

"GET OUT, QROW. I never want to see your face again."

Taiyang Xiao Long had never regretted saying something so much in his entire life.

It had been weeks since Qrow had come by to tell him Ruby and Yang were gone... but Tai was still haunted by how devastated Qrow looked as he left.

Tai had been extremely upset... overcome with sorrow and hate... it made sense to lash out. However, that didn't make the guilt any less heavy...

Tai knew none of those words were true. Raven may have left him, but Qrow had proved to be the most loyal friend Tai had ever known. Qrow's snarky attitude was infuriating and he was certainly a bad influence... but when Summer died he went out of his way to help raise Ruby and Yang.

It was evening... Tai sat in the kitchen, bathed in moonlight from an open window...

Qrow was probably all the way in Vacuo now... And as he stared down at the table, Tai finally realized... there went the only family he had left.

Then... Out of the corner of his eye... Tai noticed the dark shadow of a bird come towards him.

Tai: (hopeful) Qrow...?

Tai looked up as he heard the 'pwoof' of a transformation-

Tai: ...oh.

Standing before him was Raven Branwen. His hopefulness immediately faded.

Tai: ......it's you.

Raven: (sarcasm) I missed you too, sweetheart.

Tai: What do you want, Raven?

Raven: I don't want anything... I just thought you might like to know about your daughters.

Tai's face filled with suspicion as he rose a brow.

Tai: ...what are you talking about?

Raven: The girls are still alive, Tai.

Tai went wide-eyed.

What did she just say? Yang and Ruby were alive?!

But wait. This was Raven he was talking to. His expression became jaded as he glared at her.

Tai: ...messing with my emotions is a new low for you.

Raven: I'm not joking, Tai.

Tai was caught off guard again.

Tai: But... where?! And how do you know?!

Raven: My portals, you idiot. I have one for Yang, remember?

Tai: (JUMPING UP from his seat) Take me to them!!

Raven was startled by that-! It took her a few seconds to calm down and remove her hand from her sword hilt.

Raven: I can't.

Tai: Why not?! Your protals can take you literally anywhere on Remnant--

Raven: They AREN'T ON REMNANT, Tai.

Tai took a beat to process that, then glared.

Tai: That's bullshit-!

Raven: (glares back) I'm telling you the truth!

She grabbed her sword, and swiftly opened a portal behind her--

Raven: See for yourself.

Tai ran over and inspected it... the red swirling energy was unstable, wobbling violently. It stung him when he tried to go through it! But... he could hear them... the words were incoherent from the distortion, but those were definitely Yang and Ruby's voices!

Tai: But if they aren't on Remnant... where are they?!

Raven: My guess? ...they're stuck in the same realm where Old Man Oz kept the Relics.

Tai was exhilarated. For the first time in ages he felt hope again. Like there was something he could do to bring his family back-!

Tai: If that's so, then... we should be able to go save them!

Raven: (disgusted look) We...?

Tai: (annoyed) Oh, I'm sorry, I meant *I* can go save them. I keep forgetting you don't care about your own daughter.

Raven: I'm just being realistic.

Tai: So am I! You said you opened the Haven Vault, right? We can just walk in through there!

Raven: And get ourselves lost on in some mysterious realm with who knows what dangers awaiting us?!

Raven: No Tai-- I'm staying here and watching over my tribe, like a rational person.

Tai: (hisses) Fine..! Then I'll find someone else to come with me!

Raven laughed mockingly at him.

Raven: Who? In case you forgot, the entire world is currently being besieged by Salem's forces!

Taiyang grew anxious. All he cared about was seeing his daughters again.

Tai: Huntsmen and huntresses are gathering at Shade, I'm sure I could find someone there who will--

Raven: Someone? You're going to trust your life, the lives of your daughters, to some random huntress?!

Tai: If that's the only choice I have!

Raven: It's not, Tai.

Tai glared at her. She took the hint, continuing-

Raven: There IS a huntsman who would be willing to help you. Someone with experience scouting and searching for people. Someone strong enough to take on even ME in battle... well, when I'm not using my power, anyway~

Tai gave her a look of curious confusion. Raven sighed, frustrated that he wasn't getting the hint yet.

Raven: He's the only other man I know who would be foolish enough to sacrifice the fate of the entire world... for the sake of Ruby and my daughter.

Tai felt a pit start to form in his stomach... He finally realized who she was talking about.

Raven smiled sadistically at his face, and twisted the knife--

Raven: ...and you told him you never wanted to see him again.

Tai swallowed the lump in his throat. With a sigh he looked over at Raven-

Tai: So you were listening in that time?

Raven: It was hard not to hear, when you were yelling so loudly. (smirks) My favorite part was you blaming my dear twin for the death of Summ-

Tai: (cutting her off) OKAY!! I get it! Look- are you going to make me a portal to Qrow, or what?

Raven looks Tai over, admiring his pajamas-

Raven: Aren't you a bit underdressed to be going to Vacuo right now?

Tai: (groans) YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!

Raven chuckled, giving him a terse nod before turning away and walking over to the window.

Raven: ...I'll be back in three days. Be ready.

And with a puff of feathers, she was gone.

...

Afternoon, three days later...

Raven: Tai.

Tai: What?

Tai stopped right as he was about to step through the portal.

Tai had already taken care of everything. Port and Oobleck would help teach his classes at Signal. Some neighbors on Patch would watch over the house and dogsit Zwei. He had all his desert exploration supplies prepared. New haircut, new gear-- the only thing in his way was his ex interrupting him.

Raven looked him square in the eyes for a solid minute.

Raven: ...I am no traitor.

Tai took a few second to process that... then his eyes widened-

Tai: Is that SERIOUSLY the only reason you're helping m--?!

But before he could finish, a gust of wind pushed him through the portal, which then closed behind him!

Tai stumbled out into what appeared to be some sort of sandy-colored diner.

Tai: --me?! ...Ugh.

Tai sighed. He could deal with Raven later.

For now...

...there was someone he wanted to apologize to.

#rwby #Future STRQ AU #taiyang xiao long #RWBY Tai #raven branwen #qrow branwen #STRQ #team strq #taiqrow #Taiyang x Qrow #taiyang x raven #Qrow x Tai #rwby fanfiction #fireball #emmajh97's posts

[kosmosguk]

5 days of spooktober~ #5: opportunity

day #5: grim reaper jungkook x reader

word count: 1.8k

summ. would you give up freedom for the opportunity to live once more unhindered by illness? your answer was clear as you took the hand of the grim reaper. 

warnings: smut, illness, death, dubcon themes, yandere themes, explicit language, violence, car accident, manipulation

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! oh my god, we’re finally at the last day and this feels surreal??? Did i actually finish a drabble thing or did i just finish a drabble thing?? EXCITING, NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE, SHOWSTOPPING. exhausted af (had a full on emotional breakdown yesterday so that was smth) so this story was very vavoom rushed. Thank you for celebrating spooktober with me, and see you next time with Lineage pt. 4. 

Ah, so this was the end. The beeping of the machine next to you seemed to slow and slow, and you could only inhale in a shaky breath as your eyelids slipped closed, and you sunk into what you were sure was your death.

Your feet were bare, and the cold of the white ground sunk into your skin. You were in a white room, in which there was nothing but you and the hooded being across from you. It loomed, its presence dark like the deep color of its cloak, and you shivered as your eyes landed on the chain of skulls around its waist.

“Do you want to live?’’ the being asked you, its voice more human than you thought it would be.

You glanced back at your shoulder, and you saw a glimpse of yourself in that hospital bed, pale and barely breathing as your sobbing mother clung to your lifeless wrist. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and you tried to suck them back in with a shaky breath, but they refused to stop, and they were endlessly rolling over your cheeks in salty splashes of water.

“I…I don’t want to be sick anymore. I want to live! I’ll do anything,’’ you were pleading, your shoulders trembling as you crumpled,” Please, I died so young. I want another—I want…an-another chance to make my mom not worry and…and I want to be able to go outside and run and just…Please! I want to live!’’

The being asked you, its voice even slower as each word rolled out of its shadowy mouth.

“What would you do to live again? If those wishes were fulfilled…what would you do in exchange?’’

“Anything!’’ the word burst out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Then become my bride. In exchange for a brief moment of life, you will remain by my side for eternity. You will watch as I take one life after another and remember that at one point, I had once given you life. Will you agree?”

You nodded your head fiercely. In that moment, desperation clouded your thoughts, and it was desperation that choked you with unmerciful hands.

~

Beep, beep, beep.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring, and you blinked, surprised. Weren’t you…weren’t you supposed to be dead?

There was something heavy and warm wrapped around your stomach, and your head turned quickly as you made eye contact with a strange man in your bed. You let out a shrill scream and pushed yourself up quickly, nearly falling off the bed and taking the sheets down with you.

“Who are you?’’

The man was awake now, having pushed himself up to a seated position, and he looked confused as he looked at your clearly panicked face.

“Babe? Are you okay?’’ his voice was groggy from sleep, and you flinched at the look of confusion on his face.

“No! I’m not okay! Why are you calling me babe, and…What’s going on? I’m supposed to be d—,’’ your frantic voice cut off, and you let out a gasp as your hands flew to your mouth. Was this what that being had meant?

You forced a smile and rubbed your face with your hands.

“Sorry, I was…I had a really bad dream.”

His face furrowed, and your heart fluttered at how much of a puppy he looked like. He opened his arms and smiled gently,” Come here, babe. That dream must have been bad.”

You burrowed yourself in his arms and practically melted in his warmth. You had spent your life stuck in hospitals, switching from doctor to doctor, and you never had time or strength to go out and even look for romance in your life.

You froze when you felt his hand go underneath your pajama shirt, his palms slightly rough as he cupped one of your tits in his hand. You jolted, a soft muffled moan falling from your lips as he rolled a thumb over your nipple.

“Mmm…wait, I’m,” you shivered as his other hand slipped into your panties—you were painfully aware of the lack of pants you had on, especially since one of his fingers was already deeply pressed into your trembling walls. You had never even touched a guy’s hand before, but now you were about to fuck someone who was supposed to be your boyfriend. You tried to push him away, but you were already in his grasp, and his strength made it clear that he wasn’t letting you go.

“Sorry, babe; you’re just so pretty this morning. I wanna fuck your cute little pussy. Can I do that, baby?’’ There was no gentleness in his voice, and it seemed like he wasn’t quite asking you for your permission. You heard him shuffle to move his pants out of the way, and you could only let out a shocked moan as he pushed your panties to the side and hefted you up onto his lap. You flinched at the feeling of the hot, heavy heat underneath your bare pussy.

You were trembling as his cock pried open your pussy walls and you sunk onto it, inch by inch.

You shouldn’t have been feeling this good. It was your first time, but the body you had been reborn in didn’t care. It parted easily for his cock, and you could only keen needily, scratching at his clothed back with blunt nails, as he burrowed himself deep within you.

You couldn’t move. You stiffened, and your walls clamped down tightly, forcing his breath to come out as a hiss between his lips. He placed his hands around your hips and guided you up and down and up…Oh God, your moans were getting louder and breathier and your mind was spinning as he pounded into you.

Your toes curled, and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands balling into fists as you peaked into a never been known before pleasure. You felt him cumming in you, and you could only twitch and let out heavy pants as you came down from your high.

You were still on his lap, with his cock buried deep in you, when you felt him shift his hips a little, forcing his cock against a place in your pussy that left your mind spinning once more.

“One more round?’’ his voice was breathless and roughened, and for a moment, as you meekly nod, your mind flashed images of the hooded figure standing across from you in that blank white room while your mother wept behind you, a world away.

~

You were on your first year in this new life when you finally could walk past the hospital you spent most of your previous life in. Those memories blurred, until all that remained was the scent of bleach and the sound of dripping fluid. New memories began to replace them.

You celebrated your first birthday here with your mom, and for once she did not weep as she held your hand. She smiled and sang, clapping her hands in joy as you blew out your candles with ease. Before, even exerting your lungs left you weakened, and so your mom would blow them out for you.

You celebrated your first chance at romance with your boyfriend. He had given you roses, pink and soft and so unlike the flowers that had once wilted by your bedside, and had held you like you were his anchor that night.

You celebrated your friends. Even though you had not known them well, you felt as if you clicked, like puzzle pieces. You laughed until your lungs hurt and saw the world through different eyes.

And it is as you were reflecting these new memories that your new chance of life was shattered. You heard brakes and the squealing of wheels and there was a blinding pain as your body was thrown against the pavement.

You caught sight of that hospital and made eye contact with a girl staring at you from the window, and when you blinked your eyes, you were back in that white room again with that hooded figure across from you.

“When you meant brief,’’ your laugh was bitter, and your voice echoed in the room,” you meant brief. Did you have to end my life like this? Could I not have passed away at 90 with three grandchildren and the satisfaction of a long life?’’

The hooded figure reached its arm up, the chain of skulls clinking together, and you raised an eyebrow at how human its flesh looked like. You watched, your breath suddenly caught in your throat, as it pushed the hood over its head and revealed its face.

“Kook?’’

The face of your boyfriend was across from you.

“We had a contract, and a deal’s a deal. You had a brief moment of happiness that not many are allowed, and in exchange…you remember our deal, don’t you?’’ Your boyfriend stretched out a hand…Was he even your boyfriend now?

You sucked in a breath of disbelief and shook your head. You glimpsed back at the sight of your past life; the new life that you thought you could live had been taken so quickly, and it ended with a bloodied you against the street.

“No more deals, I suppose, Kook,’’ your voice was acrid,” Or can I even call you that anymore?’’

You saw the being’s lips twitch up in a smile, and your heart dropped at the resemblance the smile had with Jungkook. Well, you suppose the being was Jungkook, just like Jungkook was the being.

“Call me that as you may. It is of my own pleasure that you view at me so favorably, my wife,” the being spoke.

You had imagined him calling you his wife once, when you were a human and you thought he was human. He would tenderly hold you, stroke your cheek, and whisper of the affection he held for you. But now, there was no Jungkook that you could find in the callous eyes of a being who could only take lives.

You stepped forward and took his hand. The glimpses of your past life faded away, all except for one.

It would take you many, many years and many millions of souls later to realize that there was a Jungkook that loved you left in the eyes of the being, but that Jungkook had been distorted and decayed by the despair that came with life’s end until all was left was an unwavering dark callousness. 

The Jungkook that was left would love you, but that love was what had confined you by his side, forcing you to watch as an eternity slipped through your dead fingertips. 

#yandere bts #yandere #bts smut #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts fic #yandere fic #yandere smut #yandere lemon #jungkook smut #sis said see you next year...or not

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Okay! Re-watched Stage Fright and thought? Buddy with an artist reader who barely talks (borderline selective mutism) and got sent to camp in hopes that it would help her 'get over' being so quiet. She takes a sketch book everywhere, draws just about anything and jumps at the chance to help out in the kitchen instead of being anywhere near the stage. Maybe she manages to keep Buddy from dying? Can be as nsfw as you want, reader isn't shy, just quiet😏 Sorry if it's really specific.

Hey there Duck! No need to apologize! This is like the perfect level of specific! Gave me a good amount to work with! Hope it is what you were thinking of and that it works well, I am pretty happy with it, loooove writing for Buddy and again SO happy you requested something from me! Writing something for a fan for the first time is always such a treat! Let's get into it!

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.9K. Buddy Swanson X Quiet Artist AFAB! Reader. Warnings. Movie Spoilers. Bashing On Theater Kids (just as it should be in ANY Buddy fic.) Tension. Making Out. Summer Romance. Cunnlingus. Vaginal Sex. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Exhibitionism. Implied Blow Job. Teasing. Light Dirty Talk. Gore. Violence. Some Fluff. Emotions. Light Angst? Roger Sucks. We Love Camillia In This House.

---

Call It A Draw?

---

You didn’t want to go. It was stupid and you didn't agree with the reason at all as to why your parents wanted you to go, as if theater camp would be a fix to something that wasn't even a problem to you.

Your parents were fully convinced that you were too shy and introverted and figured being in a musical would help that. Bullshit. You weren't shy at all, you got out plenty, you were just quiet, didn't feel the need to talk unless you had something important to say. It kinda sucked your parents didn't seem to know you well enough to realize that but what could you do?

So you were stuck at Center Stage this summer.

My God it was worse than you imagined. Everyone was so loud, so narcissistic and self involved, it was nauseating. They were all so hyped up about the show that summer season, Haunting Of The-something or other you didn't really care, you didn't want any part of it. Auditions came and went without you trying out, and you were still hemming and hawing over what you were going to do. You were avoiding everything and everyone, hanging back in the mess hall after breakfast, last one in there, book open and sketching away. You didn't hear him sneak up on you, "You good?"

He startled you and you turned to look to see him. Tall and with brown curly hair, apron on and hands full of dirty trays, confused look on his face, concern. You had the fleeting thought that he was cute. You gave a nod to show that yes you were fine and he looked unconvinced. "Okay. So why are you still hanging around here? Shouldn't you be in classes or set building or something?"

You were wondering how best to respond when the double doors opened at the back of the room and it stole both your and his attention, turning to the sound to see Roger, the camp’s owner and director coming inside. “There you are! Have you still not picked anything?” And you shook your head, “Well you can’t just sit around doing nothing all day! Didn’t try out for the play, refuse to sign up for classes, what are we going to do with you?”

And then Buddy perked up at that, “Hey Rog. I have a thought.” You glanced at him, curious as to what it could be and he said, “With Cam busy with the play I could use some help in the kitchen.”

He scoffed at that, “Oh you can’t be serious! There is no way that she wants to be cooped up in the kitchen with you all summe-” and you shook your head furiously, no that sounded far and away better than being anywhere close to being on stage “You want to help him?” Roger asked in disbelief and you nodded, “Well fine, might as well make yourself useful I suppose.”

Roger was cheap as fuck and your parents paid for you to come to camp so the idea of having you doing labor he not only didn’t have to pay you for but HE got paid for? Well shit he wasn’t about to refuse that. And just like that it was decided. Roger told you his name, Buddy and him yours and left you both to it. That is how you found yourself being led back to the kitchen, he started to show you around, showed you the dish pit and the pantry, where utensils and pots were kept and the walk in fridge. Then he stopped what he was saying upon the realization hitting him that you had said nothing to him OR to Roger when he was here. "You don't talk much do you?" And you shook your head and that made him smile, "I like that."

He continued on, “Those theater freaks never shut the fuck up. It’s like they don’t know what the phrase ‘comfortable silence’ even means.” You smiled at that a small nod, agreeing, from the brief bit you have been around them that tracked, and he asked, “So you don’t want to be here right, don’t like theater?” you shook your head and he was practically grinning as he said, “I think we are gonna get along great.”

He was right.

You got along famously. You and he spent a ton of time together, in and out of the kitchen, he felt really comfortable with you and you felt the same way. You figured your way around the kitchen pretty quickly and took to the work easily, you didn’t have the most experience cooking but you were a hard worker and a quick study so it all more than worked out.

There were a lot of those comfortable silences he mentioned but also he was more than happy to fill the space himself, you kind of loved hearing what he was passionate about, he could go on about cooking or the restaurant he eventually wanted to open or about the camp and his general disdain towards it.

There were a few stand out moments we are going to focus on. The moments that you actually said something to him. The first time you and he were in between meals, back in the kitchen, you were finishing up dishes and he was nearby having just finished prepping some vegetables for dinner, you were both gearing up to take a much needed break when you heard him from behind you. “These are good.”

You looked over your shoulder to see him with your sketchbook open in his hands and you dropped the pot you were holding back into the soapy water, reaching out with rubber glove covered hands to try and snatch it back and he turned, book in one hand, other holding out in front of him to prevent you from reaching him, “What? Can’t I look? I won’t make fun of you, I’m just curious! Want to see what you are always drawing.” He teased with a grin.

You pouted a little bit but conceded, you went back to your task and heard him humming and flipping through pages, he had walked the short space to you so you could see where he was looking in your book. He was being very nice, very complimentary, he admitted he didn’t know much about art but he was still telling you what he thought about your art and he seemed impressed. He flipped through pages that you had sketched of nature and cabins, locations around camp and the campers who inhabited it.

It was really sweet, until he turned the page and you wanted to snatch the book back but it was too late. He laughed and looked at you with a big smile, surprised, pointing to the page, “You drew me?” It was from a few days prior, you and he were on break and he was playing solitaire on one of the tables in the mess hall and you decided to sketch him. You were happy with how it came out but still weren’t going to show him, it was kind of embarrassing. “I’m very flattered but I wish you could have told me. I could have posed for you.” He teased and you were finally done with the last of the dishes and were draining the sink

You peeled the gloves off and realized he wasn’t beside you anymore, you turned to see him sitting up on the prep table, book next to him, one leg crossed over the other, hand dramatically thrown over his forehead as he leaned back on his other hand, “Like this?” You couldn’t help it and you laughed, he was smiling and laughing a little too as he changed poses. Now on his stomach on the table, leaning his chin on one hand, head cocked to the side, “Or this?” and you were laughing harder and then he was on his back, arms stretched over his head, legs dangling off the end of the table as he asked, “How about this? You can draw me like one of your-”

And that led you to say, “Don’t you dare finish that stupid fucking Titantic quote or I will smack you I swear to God!” and you were just as shocked to have said it as he was to hear it, he sat up slowly, smirk on his face, “Well, well, well. You might not have much to say but when you do I have to say I really like it.” He hopped off the table and he sauntered over to you, hands in his pockets as he said, “You can talk to me like that anytime.”

He said it so flirty and that was when the tension between you and he really started. There had been a look or two thus far and a few times you got a little closer than necessary when working around each other but this really changed it. That simple fact occupied your mind regularly, Buddy Swanson liked you for you regardless of how little you talked but when you DID have something to say he really liked that too, liked it when you were a little mean to him.

The next time you had something to say was a few days later. You were in the only spot in the theater you liked, up on the catwalks, you would sometimes have your mid-afternoon snack up there in between working, would bring your sketchbook and draw unaware campers from high above. You were sitting up there, sketching away when Buddy had decided to join you, bringing a snack for the both of you. He sat down beside you, legs hanging off the edge right beside yours. You turned to look at him and he was holding a finger up to his mouth signaling you to be quiet, funny since he was the much more talkative one out of the two of you but you were still confused why he wanted you to say nothing. He pointed to where he wanted you to look and you caught on, it was that kid who always wore that flesh tone leotard, he was tap dancing, no one else was around and he obviously didn’t know you and Buddy were there watching.

You quirked a brow and glanced at him and he gestured for you to wait, give it a minute and you both kept watching. The kid was really going at it, picking up the pace and giving it his all, dancing to that imaginary music and the smile on Buddy’s face was growing and he looked excited, then finally just what he was waiting for. That kid had been tap dancing with his laces undone and he stepped hard, one foot slamming down with a satisfying clack and he caught it just right and one the next step tried to pull his other foot up and instead ended up losing his balance, he wobbled and then toppled, fully eating shit. Buddy pumped his fist in silent victory and you were so shocked, not expecting to see that kid fuck up that it got you, loud and surprised laugh leaving you and then next ting you knew you were on your back.

Buddy had grabbed you and pulled you back, rolling the both of you so you were out of sight from below, he was on top of you, one hand over your mouth as you were both still shaking a bit from laughter as he said, “Fucking hell, thought you were supposed to be quiet, you almost got us caught!” The fitting way he stage-whispered to you was funny enough even after watching that kid eat it so hard. He was right too, neither you nor he were supposed to be up here since you weren’t crew members. and as the laughter died off and he pulled his hand back you realized just how good it felt to be like this. You had a soft smile on your face as you whispered out a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He whispered back. You both felt it. A little out of breath from laughing and pressed so close together and you reached up, hand met the back of his neck and you were leaning up and you kissed him. He melted into it and returned your affection immediately. So it felt unfairly good, he truly seemed to know what he was doing and after only a few minutes you were both much more out of breath, clothes were askew from roaming hands on both of your parts and that was how your first make out session with Buddy happened. Above the stage on those catwalks, as high off the feeling as you were off the ground, he was looking down at you, curls falling in his face as he said, “Glad to know you are just quiet and not shy.”

You liked that so much you set out to show him just how not shy you truly were. Your summer really picked up after that. Working, cooking, serving those campers and cleaning and when you weren’t the two of you were hanging out, drawing, relaxing or much more likely, hooking up. That comfortability you shared bled into the physicality your relationship had evolved to.

It was a late afternoon in the cabin he and Cam shared, you two had one that was just for the both of them, she was off at rehearsal and you were both alone. You had started off sitting on his bed, playing cards and relaxing and soon the game was forgotten, you were caught up in each other. He had started it this time and you had escalated it, he kissed you first and you had his shirt collar in your fist and tugged him closer, kissing him deeper and that egged him on to put his hands on you and so it went. Heated kissing turned into hands over the clothes to under the clothes and then fabric was being pulled off and discarded and minutes later he was between your thighs for the first time. His breath felt so warm and his strong hands were on your outer thighs and his mouth felt insanely good as he was kissing down and so close to where you wanted him, it made you squirm under him. Then when his lips touched down on that sensitive bud you gasped his name, fingers tangling in his curls and he pulled back, he was looking up at you, fuck that look in his eyes, like he was so hungry before he said, “You’ve never said my name before.”

You realized that was true, you hadn’t. You had now though and the very first time you said it was like that, breathy and utterly delicious and it was addictive. “It sounds so good when you say it.” he uttered and he was still looking up at you when he lowered back down, soft kisses placed on your inner thighs that made your hips stir in want. He nipped the sensitive skin playfully before adding, “I want to hear it again.” That first lick made your breath catch and he whispered, “And again.” A long and slow lick over your whole dripping slit that made you keen, “And again.” Then a smaller lick, focused right on your clit before whispering against your soaked skin, “And one more time after that.”

And after that he really got into it and you did just that, particularly when he sucked that most sensitive part into his mouth, tongue rolling over it and that made you moan his name as you tugged on his hair that made him moan against you in kind.

So after that it became a game. Him doing whatever he could to make you moan, whether his name or hushed dirty talk or just anything. It was insanely fun. If not a bit frustrating, he learned your body’s signals well and quickly because you were so quiet verbally but acted like he didn’t know.

He knew just when you got close and the sessions you were clammed up he would stop with you on the edge and play dumb when you whined and pouted, looking so frustrated, “Awe, were you close?” He would roll his hips forward and your back would arch, pressing close to him, desperate for release and his hands would smooth over your skin "I couldn’t tell-” and as his mouth latched onto your neck, a soft bite that would make you hold your breath as he ground into you again, you could feel his smile against you as he added on finishing that thought “-you didn’t say anything.”

Bastard. You only let him get away with it because he would always eventually make you cum and it was so worth the wait and initial frustration you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him.

You loved to make him do the opposite. Overwhelm him with sensation that felt so damn good, so fantastic that it left him speechless. Your favored way of doing so was being on your knees in front of him, in some dangerous place you shouldn't be hooking up where the risk of getting caught was present. You still loved when he was able and capable of moaning your name and other much filthier things in your ear. Stuff between you and him was insanely good. You wanted to thank your parents for sending you off to Center Stage, which ended up being the best summer you ever had.

When Artie Getz died it was kind of a big deal. Artie was a piece of shit that you steered clear of upon Buddy’s instruction, you had one conversation with him and regretted it, he never even looked you in the eye, much busier observing your "assets" and yeah you decided that he fucking sucked and never talked to him again. So it was shocking, sure, but you weren’t sad about it, more scared, wondering who did it and when they would strike again. You figured camp would be called early, everyone focusing on this and dealing with it but these, as Buddy rightfully called them, theater freaks, insisted that the show must go on!

Buddy re-assured you. “Whoever is doing it is obviously after people involved in the play. We will be fine.” And it made sense but you were still concerned about his sister Cam, as was he. Buddy didn’t want you to go to the show. “It will be so bad. I have to go to support Cam but you shouldn’t, being out of the theater will be the safest place for you. If he is going to do it again it will be there.”

And you weren’t about to argue.

You went to the kitchen to get a snack. The play was well underway and you went by, you figured you would be alone, could just grab something and retreat. You and Buddy already made all the food for the cast party earlier and you didn’t want to be here while that mess happened after the play was done. You and Buddy would clean it all up after they were partied out and in bed. And if you were lucky that is just where you and he would end up. Well okay, not so much bed as your cabins would be full but bent over a kitchen prep table was just as good.

You were in the walk-in fridge when you heard it. Loud, aggressive, angry music, someone practically scream singing, sounding pissed as fuck. You were utterly confused, you crept to the door and opened it slightly as silently as you could and then you saw it all unfold. You were shocked, so the killer was him, your sort of boyfriend, you hadn’t really defined the relationship, Buddy. You watched as Cam had unmasked him and confronted him and on with him explaining why he did it and the fight that ensued. You were shocked but you shouldn’t have been surprised, not really. It all clicked and made perfect sense.

Observing the whole scene play out, keeping as quiet as you could, waiting to see how this would play out, you watched as Buddy started laying into Roger, and you couldn’t help rooting for him. If what he said was true, and knowing Buddy and how honest he was then it was all true, you wanted to see him kick Roger’s ass.

The fact that Roger had killed their mother and after Buddy had seen it happen, had to cope and live with that fact for years while Camillia was oblivious, had Roger threaten him to keep him quiet. It was awful. You didn’t know how much he was hurting.

Camellia tried to stop Buddy from how hard he was laying into Roger and he accidentally hit her, he turned around, concern so obvious and when that happened Roger was about to take advantage of the situation and attack Buddy when he was distracted. You couldn’t stand for that, you made your presence known, you bolted out of the walk-in fridge, slamming the door as soon as you were out and called, “Look out!” and that pulled Buddy out of his stupor and managed to avoid the hit.

Camellia was still on the ground, you were on your knees in a second and cradling her head and you watched as what happened next. Buddy did the damn thing, he got just what he wanted, he got revenge and to quote him he “-made a big mess tonight.” Just for Rog. It was hard to watch but again, you couldn’t blame him, not for a second. Fuck Roger. The end he got, multiple stab wounds was too good for him, he deserved much worse in your opinion. You watched as that knife in Buddy’s grip stabbed into the other man, over and over and the blood that poured out and as Roger fell to the ground. Buddy was breathing so hard, he was sweating, face smeared in makeup and his hands were covered in red, he dropped the knife and it hit the floor with a clatter. He looked to you and as you locked eyes he swallowed hard, a moment where he was the one who was speechless again and you weren’t.

You said, “I’m not scared Buddy.”

He laughed a little, breathless and shook his head in disbelief, one of his hands came up and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, blood smearing and he said, “Again. Whenever you do talk-” He let out a sigh with a smile before finishing the thought, “-I hang off every word.”

Cam woke up and was understandably freaked out. She jumped away from you and Buddy, backed up and was crying, babbling over what Buddy had done and Roger dead on the floor and on and on. Buddy tried to get her to calm down, tried to make her understand.

She didn’t.

She also couldn’t turn Buddy in. She looked at him with her tear stained and makeup smudged face and told him to run, leave and never look back and you felt almost out of place, it was a very personal and emotional moment. Watching the siblings cry and say good-bye, she let him hug her, blood and makeup transferred to the both of them and then they broke apart and she gave him one last look before leaving and you and he were alone.

It was so quiet.

You spoke first again, “So where are we going to go?”

He laughed in disbelief and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket and said with a small shrug, “You tell me.”

Running away with him might be crazy, it might be stupid, but hey your family didn’t get you but he did. And that was enough.

#Buddy Swanson #Buddy Swanson X Reader #Stage Fright 2014 #BHF writing #lady-of-glass-and-bone #BHF asks #Hope you like it! #Gotta love some silly with some smut and some feelings #I have a lot of emotions about Buddy okay?! #I don't go much into his and Cam's relationship but I don't think Cam would be able to accept what he did #AT FIRST #Later? #Welll #I should explore that later

[emmidqueso]

Do You Know Your Neighbors?

It was only midday, but the sun’s inescapable heat and glaring rays had already made the diner unbearable. It usually got hot around one or two, but today was supposed to be one of the hottest of the year. The Cook had a bandana tied around his forehead in a pathetic attempt to keep the sweat out of his eyes, but the waitresses had no choice but to wipe their foreheads with a spare napkin when they got the chance.

Well, it’s not like they didn’t have a lot of chances. At this time of year, most of the locals were out on vacation at the beach or a week-long tropical cruise. Sylvia was jealous of those who could go – her boss rarely let them take sick days, let alone vacations. Even when the tables were empty for hours, the bell on the door didn’t chime, and Cook stepped away from the grill because he had nothing to do. It was weird yet normal for the only cars in the lot to be Cook’s old Mustang that still shone like it was new and Sylvia’s beat up Ford. They’d listen to the second hand of the clock tick, the sound echoing against the linoleum, just to pass the time.

She didn’t know if the constant tick, tick, tick was better or worse than silence.

Jolene smiled weakly at her, noticing Sylvia’s blank stare and thinking she needed something (really, Sylvia had just been zoned out, feeling like she’d been in a trance from the hypnotic sound of the clock). “Sorry you gotta be here, hun. It’s just as dead as usual.”

“It’s fine,” Sylvia murmured. “It’s not your fault Boss thinks he’s God or something and needs to keep us in prison.”

Jolene chuckled at that – in the way someone laughs at you when they don’t find the joke all that funny. “God or summ’,” she repeated to herself, turning away to wipe some imagined dust off the counter.

Sylvia found herself watching as Jolene moved around the stools and bar. The latter was a curvy woman, probably what some would’ve called a ‘southern belle’ in her youth. Two kids and a husband who worked long hours wore her down, though, and her job was her only escape from that monotony. She often looked older than she was with the dark circles that colored under her eyes and the wrinkles forming around her lips. Despite that, she was almost certainly the peppiest member of the staff and subsequently got the best tips.

The bell chiming pulled her from her thoughts, and both waitresses turned toward the door, eyes flashing with curiosity and eyebrows raising in surprise.

A man stood next to the first booth, hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. He looked boyish, but he towered over Sylvia by at least a foot, thin and willowy. His blonde hair fell into his eyes, and it looked frizzy enough to indicate he probably had kept brushing it away and then given up. Once he noticed Sylvia’s eyes on him, he gave her a crooked grin and a little wave before tucking his hand back in his pocket.

“Can I help you?” Sylvia asked, putting on a bright smile and grabbing a menu from the counter. “We ain’t had many customers today, so we’ll have to brew a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like a cup.”

The man gave another toothy grin that stretched a bit too wide. “Aw, no ma’am, that’s alright. I’ll just take a water, please.”

“Comin’ right up. You can sit anywhere you’d like to, hun. We’re dead as can be.” Something about his smile had been off putting, sending a chill down her arms, but she kept up the cheery demeanor. Just ‘cause you don’t like him grinning like that don’t mean you slip up, Sylvie, she thought to herself.

“Thank you very much,” he answered, sweeping around to perch in the booth closest to the door.

Jolene had come back out from the kitchen where she’d been with Cook to see who Sylvia was speaking to. “Good mornin’ to you. What’s a young fella like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” Always the charmer, she could use that to snoop into everybody’s business when they came in – quite a talent, really. It made her a good gossip, which had both its perks and drawbacks for those she spoke to.

“Just passing through, ma’am.”

“Oh, no need for that. Just call me Jo.” She laid down a set of silverware and a handful of napkins, glancing up as Sylvia came back with a glass of ice water. “Got business in town?”

The man looked out the window, a not-quite-a-smile flashing across his lips. “You could say that.”

Jolene didn’t seem to notice his face. “Well, hun, a man like you’s gotta need a hearty meal, right? We’ve got a nice bacon cheeseburger meal, but if you’re looking for breakfast, I’m sure Cook wouldn’t mind grilling up some eggs for ya. What’s your name, hunny?”

“Randall Harrison, ma’am. That cheeseburger sounds real nice.” He ran a hand through his hair, most of it staying back but a few strands falling back into his face.

“You got it, hun. Jus’ yell if you need anything else.”

Sylvia followed Jolene back to the kitchen, the latter giving the ticket to Cook. “Don’t you think he’s a little young to be havin’ business? It’s a small town anyways, nobody wants to go there. Especially not this time of year.”

Jolene gave a chortle and nudged the younger woman with her shoulder. “Now don’t go all detective-y on the poor man.”

“It’s just a little weird to me,” she defended.

Jolene arched a brow at her. “Weird for somebody to wanna grab a bite in this heat?”

“I’m just saying—“

“For the love of all things holy, don’t go bugging ‘im.”

Sylvia stared at Jolene for a moment, waiting to see if she’d cave at all. When she didn’t, Sylvia finally answered, “Fine, I’ll leave it be.”

The pair looked over at Randall, who was now doodling on a napkin with a pen — who knows where he got the red ballpoint. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he glared down at his work.

“Go keep him company,” Jolene commanded. “He came out here lookin’ for a meal, not to be lonely.”

“Yes’m,” Sylvia grumbled in resignation, walking back to the booth.

Randall looked up as she approached. “What time is it?”

“Oh, it’s—“ a look toward the clock, the second hand still tick, tick, ticking— “11:36, hun. Somethin’ you’re waiting for?”

“Just a few more minutes, then.” He caught Sylvia’s eyes and grinned, but this time, the boyishness had disappeared from his face. The warmth of his smile didn’t reach his eyes, feeling forced and icy cold. A blink, and the look was gone, and he was back to doodling.

She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “What kind of business do you got in town?”

“Why’s it matter?” he asked her.

She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Curiosity, I s’pose?”

He didn’t bother to look back up at her as he scribbled faster. “The important kind.”

“What does that mean?”

A deathly moment of silence ensued as he stared at her. It was a chilling kind of stare, the sort that makes somebody feel more like a mouse in an owl’s claws than a person. There was a knowing gleam to his eye, and though she was certain he couldn’t have heard the conversation from here, Sylvia felt that he knew what she’d said back in the kitchen. “You’re a bright girl, Sylvia,” Randall responded at last. “You’re suspicious of me, right? But your ditzy coworker there isn’t. Your cook probably isn’t, either. You wanna know why?”

Sylvia threw a look over her shoulder and searched for Jolene, wondering why the man’s food wasn’t out here already. Having someone out here, maybe he wouldn’t be saying such strange things. No dice, though — she couldn’t even hear her coworkers speaking to each other.

“Do you want to know why?” he asked again, more insistent.

“Yes?” she stuttered, hesitating before meeting his gaze once more.

He smirked. “Check what time it is again.”

“11:36.” Wait, still?

“Something about that doesn’t feel natural, does it?”

She jerked up from the seat, an invisible weight settling on her chest. “No, the clock is just… It’s just broken.”

“It always ticks. How else do you pass the time but to listen? This is the first time it’s been silent, isn’t it, Sylvia? Is the silence nice?” Randall taunted.

The waitress shook her head. “No, it has to be broken. That’s all.” I don’t care how weird it is, the clock is just broken. That’s how things go, they break. It’s not its fault for bad timing. It’s just a coincidence.

He stood up to face her, his height so much more than hers, making her feel scared and small and insignificant. “What more proof do you need? Do you want the sun to go dark? Locusts to swarm the windows? Do you want me to turn the water in the faucets to blood? Would you rather that I don red horns and fiery robes to prove to you who I am?”

A look at her hands showed her how badly she was shaking, tears welling up behind her eyes and knees shuddering against each other. “You’re insane. Demons don’t really exist, you’re just a person.”

Randall leaned in, an icy cool hand roughly grabbing her chin to yank her gaze to meet his. “You poor thing, telling yourself lies to make yourself feel better.”

“If you’re really a demon, why are you here?”

“To deliver justice.” His eyes seemed to flash red, and though Sylvia didn’t believe him, she didn’t think that she imagined the shift in color. “Do you know how awful the people in that small little town next door are? Liars, thieves, whores, murderers. The whole bunch of them. Men taking advantage of women for fun, teens getting high on the strong stuff, people in power begging for cash they don’t need, spouses with double lives. Why that town attracts those folks, I can’t say, but it does. A little haven where no one looks twice and everyone pretends they know nothing. I think it’s time that the lot finds out what karma waits for them, don’t you think?”

She was frozen in her slip ons, but Sylvia managed to gasp, “You’re lying to me. I know my neighbors, and none of them are what you’re saying.”

“Then you don’t really know them, girl. You’re one of the few innocents, but even Jolene and Cook aren’t. Have you ever met Jolene’s husband? She killed him last year in a rage before burying his body in the backyard. Have you wondered how Cook has such a nice house on the salary this place has? His brother is a drug lord, and in return for recommending his brother to any drug addict he comes across, he gets a good cut of it. Even your boss is an asshole - working you to death and further, all so he can take the profits and pay you barely enough to survive.” He finally released her chin, pushing her into a chair and just watching as she landed on its seat. “You’re blind to it all, but it’s time you figured it out.”

Sylvia watched as the man stalked back to where Jolene and Cook were, as she found herself glued to the chair and unable to even call out their names. Through the order window, she could finally see them, frozen in place by the stove mid conversation. Jolene’s mouth was open in what looked like a laugh, and Cook had a spatula still grasped in his palm as he went to flip a burger.

Randall reached them and reached a hand towards each, the air suddenly static around him. Two fingers touched both Cook’s and Jolene’s foreheads, and it was like the light and life was sucked from them. Both went limp but still stood, their eyes losing their shine and falling shut. Their skin dulled and hair lost its volume as Randall drew his hands away.

Finally, Sylvia was able to find her words, air rushing down her throat as if her chest was a vacuum. “What the fuck?” she yelled.

He quickly returned to her, standing solemnly over her. “I’m sparing you, Sylvia. You’ll find a good amount of cash in your accounts, and no one will ask questions. You go find somewhere else to be and a better job. Forget about this place and this day, and you’ll be just fine. Don’t do anything wrong, and you’ll never see me again.”

“Did you just kill them?!”

“I’m not going to kill you, so does it matter?”

“You killed them!”

Randall glared at her before turning towards the door. “Take my advice, Sylvia. You’re a smart girl. Do better.”

Her body shook so hard that the chair legs were clacking against the linoleum floor. “You just fucking killed my friends in front of me!”

With a sigh, he turned back around and touched two fingers to Sylvia’s forehead. The air was crackling again with static but subtler. “This isn’t your death. I keep my promises. You just need to relax and think straight.”

Her vision began to swim, then go dark. She swayed sideways before falling to the floor with a crack. Pain lanced through her head, a small cry leaking from her throat. She refused to succumb to the darkness, though, and kept her eyes trained on Randall’s figure moving towards the door.

What she didn’t expect, just as the darkness consumed her — horns seemed to sprout from his head and curl around his ears, bat-like wings sprung from his shoulder blades, and fire outlined each step as he lifted his foot from the floor.

He isn’t a demon, is he — he’s the Devil himself.

The door slammed behind him, and finally the clock began to tick, tick, tick again.

[polaristranslations]

Yotsugi Buddy Episode 5 (FINAL)

The epilogue; or perhaps, the punch line.

After yet another week had passed.

"So? What happened this time? If you're okay with me, I'll hear you out, Araragi-kun."

"Oh, get lost... Hanekawa!?"

My former classmate who had set off a journey wandering overseas after graduating from Naoetsu High School, Hanekawa Tsubasa, was sitting right in front of me—huh!?

What happened to Gahara-san, who's usually in charge of the endings!?

"Hitagi-chan is going on a trip to Kushiro with friends from her dorm this week, so if I may be so presumptuous as to take her place."

"She's going to Hokkaido!? That Hokkaido that I have yet to visit!? With her new friends!?"

Don't do things that will hurt your boyfriend!

Well, I was highly in favor of her expanding her circle of friends... But if she really went and ate crabs there, we might have to have a serious talk about breaking up.

"But, Hanekawa, if you're taking her place... When did you even get back? How long have you been here?"

"I actually got back just now. Since it's summer break, I thought I'd spend some time with Hitagi-chan, but she rejected me. She assigned me to you, Araragi-kun."

It was also a bit of a shock to hear Hanekawa speak as if she had no intention of meeting me... But oh well.

I wouldn't normally be a fan of breaking up the rhythm of our regular interactions, but that didn't mean I wasn't happy to be able to talk with Hanekawa—even if the subject was a tragicomedy about child abuse.

The location was, as usual, the cafeteria on the university campus—it was Hitagi who called me out, so I faithfully rushed over, thinking it was the usual thing... So this was quite the surprise.

Hanekawa Tsubasa, whom I hadn't seen in several months, now had long, straight gray hair. It wasn't braided, but it was close to the length that it had been when I first met her... However, she didn't have bangs, so I guess she just kept growing them out. I didn't know what country she just got back from, but her style, with her sturdy-looking backpack and hat, seemed like she'd just come back from climbing a mountain.

Her golden-brown skin made it seem as if she'd gotten a tan at the beach or something, but was that mismatched impression just how Hanekawa was like, now?

If there was one thing that bore a resemblance to when we first met, it would be that, though she had been wearing contact lenses since the second term of her high school senior year, she had gone back to wearing glasses—it wasn't for the sake of changing her image or her character, but simply that it was more convenient for travel.

Thinking about it, wasn't this the first time I saw Hanekawa Tsubasa in plain clothes? Since she was no longer a high school girl, I suppose it was natural to see her in plain clothes... I hadn't been mentally prepared in the slightest, so even her mountain climbing clothes left me flustered.

I didn't know if I should call it a cameo appearance or a stunt double, but, well, maybe Hanekawa was more suited for the ending than Hitagi was, as far as this case was concerned.

Not just because of the character for "hane".

Although, that's where it all started.

"Ahaha, that's pretty careless of you, Araragi-kun. Anyone with the character for 'hane' is usually good for nothing."

"They're good for something! There's something good for all of them! Don't involve the entire population of people with 'hane' in their name just because of your own self-deprecation! As soon as 'hane' shows up in your name, you're guaranteed to live a long and wealthy life! You score a hundred points in name-based fortune-telling!"

"Araragi-kun, were you always that defensive of a person...? I never said anything about economic conditions or life expectancy, either."

It's not like you get scored in name-based fortune-telling, too, pointed out Hanekawa in a dumbfounded manner—damn, after not seeing her in a while, it was like she was pointing out how dull I'd become.

Name-based fortune-telling, huh.

"You really know everything, don't you."

"I don't know everything, I just know what I know. Also, sorry about this, but we're no longer in high school, so if you don't mind, can you stop calling me 'you [omae]' so brusquely?"[?]

"We're totally not on the same wavelength!"

It was like a failed attempt at a nostalgic handshake—well, I guess such awkwardness is also part of what a reunion tastes like.

"I wouldn't say you've gotten dull. In fact, I'm impressed by how much you've grown. I never thought you'd save a teacher. I'd love to tell Hoshina-sensei all about it."

"Well, I really caused a lot of trouble for that homeroom teacher of mine... Teachers, huh... If I've become a fine person, then what have you... Er, what have you [anata] been up to lately, Hanekawa?"[?]

"I didn't think you'd be this awkward. I'm just kidding, it's fine to keep using 'you [omae]'. Well, I've finally finished the first stage of clearing out the mines around some national borders."

The scale was way too different.

In that case, her mountain climbing clothes today might actually be work clothes, or more specifically, military clothes... In other words, I guess it was my fate to never see Hanekawa in plain clothes.

It made me feel like the adventure that Ononoki-chan and I went on was nothing but a small trifle.

"There's no such thing as too big or too small when it comes to helping people. You're not your sisters, Araragi-kun."

"Now that you've said that, I'm sure even Ononoki-chan can rest in peace."

"D-did Ononoki-chan die!?"

"Well, she was already dead. Well, I'll talk about that later... I have things planned out, you see."

"Surely not. It doesn't seem like you'd plan things out, Araragi-kun."

Well, maybe I hadn’t.

And that was true today as well.

"If you've only finished the first stage, does that mean there are still some mines left?"

"No, they've all been completely cleared out. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come back. By finishing the first stage, I mean that I've been freed from my debt."

"Debt? For what?"

"The debt from chartering a fighter jet to take down Ougi-chan the day before our graduation ceremony."

Oh yeah, there was something like that.

I see, so while I'd thought that everything had been finished back then, Hanekawa had been suffering from debt hell ever since... Though it wasn't as bad as my hellish spring break.

Still, I don't know if you could say "as expected", but she repaid her debt quite fast.

What an amazing girl.

"So, from here on out, Hanekawa Tsubasa is free to do whatever she wants... Free to clear out mines of her own volition."

"......"

She was saying something pretty good, but it was kind of scary... When I was back in high school, I never thought I would end up worrying for Hanekawa's future.

"So?"

Hanekawa asked, switching back to the main topic.

"What happened this time? If you're okay with me, I'll hear you out, Araragi-kun."

"There would be no better person to hear me out than you."

It had already been in the news, and since she was the class president that knew everything, I didn't think there was anything I could add. But I told her the full story in chronological order, without cutting anything.

"—Ah, I guess you're not a class president anymore."

"Well, I'm still a president. Of the International Land Mine Removal U-20 Committee."

"That's insane. I never thought that my prediction that you would be a class president for the rest of your life would be fulfilled like this."

"But, I see, hmm. So it was something like that. You sure had a hard time, didn't you, Araragi-kun? But I think I understood most of it."

"You ‘understood most of it’ that easily, huh? The truth about the oddity incident that almost killed me several times."

"Did you really almost die?"

"By my estimate, at least twenty times."

"Don't exaggerate. It's an oddity story, after all. It could end up spreading."

At the very least, it was just once—when I was almost choked to death by my own clothes. At most, I'd say it was two times... With the time when I was locked in a cage.

I wasn't counting the two flights I made with "Unlimited Rulebook", since those were more like gags.

In that sense, perhaps I wasn't involved in that big of an adventure this summer... It didn't turn into anything like a demon-world-like summer vacation that could rival my hellish spring break and my nightmarish Golden Week.

Right.

In the end, this was reality.

"Honestly, maybe it would've been better if it had been you. If you were the one that Associate Professor Iesumi asked for help. If it had been you, you wouldn't have had the 'replacement child' misunderstanding when she first called you into her office, and you would have completely dispelled her suicidal impulses, wouldn't you?"

"Mm. Mmm. If it were up to the current me, I might have just let her die."

"......"

"It might have been impossible for the me of the past, too. The thought of helping an adult might not have even occurred to me... And I don't think I could have remained calm in front of an abusive adult. You remember, right? What I did to the people who raised me. Although I've forgotten... So, Araragi-kun, you're incredible."

Even though she said that, it didn't really feel like I was being praised.

If anything, I felt like a traitor. As if she was asking me how I remained so calm.

"I think all I could've done was call the cops at the very beginning, which would have complicated things further. So, Iesumi-san was right to choose you following Oikura-san's recommendation. Isn't that why Oikura-san told Iesumi-san about you?"

"Oikura would badmouth me to anyone."

Even if her words becoming the catalyst ended up being a good thing... I couldn't say that I had really been very helpful, just like with Oikura's case.

Rather than being helpful, I was completely helpless.

At least, that's how I felt.

"On the other hand, how much do you understand right now, Araragi-kun?"

"I barely understand anything. It's the same as always, just me regretting that there must have been a way to do this better."

In fact, the "past Hanekawa method" of reporting the abuse of the three-year-old daughter as soon as I heard about it wasn't so bad... At the very least, Associate Professor Iesumi would not have to be admitted to a police hospital for malnutrition, in this gluttonous country of Japan.

Her consciousness, which was already hazy on the rooftop, had been completely lost at this point... The doctor's assessment was that not only was she unconscious and in critical condition, it was unbelievable that she was still alive to begin with.

How was she still alive?

That was the one thing even the person herself didn't understand.

I may have managed to save her life, but her life was the only thing I managed to save... Other than that, I hadn't been able to save anything else.

The basic necessities of life—when I thought about how she hadn't been given any of that, and about her life from this point on, it didn't just leave me depressed.

"It's no wonder Shinobu didn't help me at all this time. What I was doing hasn't changed from what I did back then. If there's someone dying, I just can't help but reach out to them."

Shinobu probably had her own excuses... At the very least, it wasn't fair to say that she didn't help "at all". We hadn't made it to the parking lot in time, but once the sun set, it was her time to shine—when it came to the repairing and purification of Room 333, Shinobu had done a great job on all fronts.

"Wasn't Iesumi-san actually seeking help, too? She just couldn't say it like that in front of a child."

"What, is she a tsundere? An adult like her? I may not be a specialist of child abuse, and I may not be a specialist of oddities, but I am a specialist of tsundere. Well, it does make me feel a little better to think that way, even for a moment."

But I wonder.

I had also wanted to die in the past, and it was Hanekawa's words that had kept me alive at that time, which was what troubled me so much. Wasn't it just cruel to admonish a person who was suffering and tell them that "suicide was sinful"?

After being torn to shreds, it was like I was being attacked for wanting to die—wasn't that more sinful?

It was really hard to believe she was seeking help... That person may have just wanted to die.

"Then, if I unravel the mysteries that have been left behind, will that make you feel better, Araragi-kun?"

"Well, a little."

"Then, it might be a bit much, but this humble president would like to be of assistance."

Hanekawa grinned.

So that's why she was here—unabashedly showing up on a university campus that was off-limits to outsiders. Perhaps that was all according to my girlfriend's plan, as she looked forward to going to Kushiro.

But I wasn't going to let her off easy...

"Let's start off with something easy. How about the little bear doll on the roof?"

"Is that something easy?"

"I mean, it's a bear that's the size of a key chain, right? So wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that it was originally attached to a key?"

"A key..."

The only key that appeared in this series of events would be... The key to Room 333, Associate Professor Iesumi's territory... Was this about that key, which I'd finally been able to return to her that day on the roof?

"Non, non."

"A, a Parisienne?"

"There's one more key, isn't there? There was a lock to the second door, as you called it, that could only be opened from the hallway side."

"Ah... The door that Ononoki-chan kicked open."

Aha. While I'd tried to fix the hinges on that door, I hadn't performed a search for the key itself—and even in the subsequent (half-finished) search, I hadn't found it.

"From the fact that it's a teddy bear, isn't there a good chance that it was attached to the nursery key? And then—there's a good chance she threw it onto the roof."

Thanks to Ononoki-chan, my imagination had gone in the direction that it was a memory of Associate Professor Iesumi and her parents that she couldn't easily get rid of, but it could also have been a memory of Associate Professor Iesumi and the Iie-chan doll.

...And she threw it away onto the roof.

Littering towards heaven, not earth.

"Since she didn't find it cute anymore—right? Though, like Ononoki-chan said, you can get the feeling that she didn't throw it away, but failed to completely get rid of it. Considering the damage to that bear, it would've been about a year ago, right?"

"......"

So she felt the same way about the key chain as she did with her "own child"... The key that was detached must have been used without a key chain, like the key to the front door, or else she would not have been able to open and close the nursery door.

In the end, considering that she confined the Iie-chan doll and then left the second door locked, she may have even thrown away the key onto the roof... Perhaps we would have been able to find it under the rubble from Ononoki-chan's destruction.

That worn-out little bear.

In a way, it was also a remnant of affection, like the interior of the nursery.

"Even if it was a state of emergency, I would have felt bad if we turned the bitter memories of her parents into an oddity, but since it was a doll that Associate Professor Iesumi bought herself..."

"If it had been a gift from her parents, I think you would've been in big trouble, and not just in terms of your feelings. It would've been bad if it had been handmade, too—but Ononoki-chan is a professional, so I'm sure she wouldn't make such a misjudgment."

There was once a time where I created an oddity, too—said Hanekawa, lost in her memories.

Was she talking about Black Hanekawa?

No—it must be about Kako.

It was something that happened while I was away, so I didn't know all the details... But, regardless of good or bad, the fact that she created an oddity without even being a specialist made her one hell of a girl.

How long would I be able to drink tea at the same table with her, as she continued to raise her status as president ad infinitum?

"When it comes to Ononoki-chan, I gotta say I think she was making plenty of misjudgments... According to her, 'Ever since I came to live with Araragi Tsukihi, my clumsiness has shown no signs of stopping.'"

"Hm. Then, next is..."

"Can I ask something? It might be a little trivial, but..."

"You're talking about that, right? If it's a trivial matter, then you're asking why the weakness of the clothes and fabric that attacked you and Ononoki-chan was water, right?"

Hanekawa spoke as if she was completely aware.

"But, isn't it obvious if you check the contents of Iesumi-san's letter?"

"Um. No... That wasn't the question I had, but that's fine."

It seemed the definition of "trivial" differed for me and for Hanekawa... I didn't even care about something like that anymore. I'd crudely assumed that all oddities were fundamentally weak to water or something...

"Since they were oddities created by Associate Professor Iesumi, who was raised with 'water' as her 'staple food', the oddities' weakness ended up being water? But if that's the case, I would think they would grow even stronger when being doused with water..."

Like putting dried foods back into water, I guess?

No, when I found her on the rooftop, Associate Professor Iesumi declined the water I offered her... If you suddenly drink water after not eating or drinking, then was it fatal...? But then, what exactly would be the right way to treat such a thing?

"Rather than refeeding syndrome, maybe Iesumi-san just refused to be satisfied with water—"

"Satisfied?"

"Rather than your ski cap and jacket just becoming immobile after getting soaking wet, isn't it more like they drank their fill and fell asleep on a full stomach? Like a baby with a full tummy after being breastfed."

"......"

It wasn't their weakness—it was their staple food.

The feeling of not wanting to be satisfied was something I could understand... If the vampire on a hunger strike, Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster, were here right now, perhaps she would have something more profound and more significant to talk about here.

"Breasts, huh... Have I unexpectedly become a man that enjoys raising children? It's true that I've always been thinking that men should be more proactive in childcare."

"Araragi-kun, when you say the word 'breasts' so wholeheartedly, it sounds like you mean something else."

"So was that what you meant when you asked, 'Did you really almost die?' When I was in that crisis, it was more like a starving baby clinging onto me, so my life wasn't actually in danger..."

"No, I think that was definitely an attack. Most likely, one made out of self-defense... Still, if it were me, I would have never put back on a jacket and ski cap that almost killed me... How afraid of hypothermia are you? You're way too paranoid."

When she said that, I couldn't say anything in response.

But it really is scary, getting pulled along by "Unlimited Rulebook" without even a seatbelt...

"I would think that, when your clothes attacked you while your focus was on the destroyed father doll, they attacked rather systematically. Otherwise, the professional Ononoki-chan probably would not have had a hard time. It wasn't that opening the closet was the trigger condition, but rather they aimed for the exact moment that Ononoki-chan's hands were full with opening the closet. So, what was the question you wanted to ask, Araragi-kun?"

Hanekawa came down to my level... It was an exchange that reminded me of when she was helping me study.

I really was a baby. Goo goo ga ga.

"Don't say that as if you've resigned yourself to it. What kind of baby are you trying to be?"

"Rather than my question, it's a doubt that Ougi...kun raised. The difference between the quality of the construction and the quality of the drawing for the Iie-chan and father dolls... Because of the imbalance between the balloon-art-like technique and the 'henohenomoheji' scribble, Ougi-kun suspected that two people were involved in the making of the stuffed animal, placing the 'estranged husband' on the chopping block."

Though it was Associate Professor Iesumi who locked up the doll, it was the husband who stabbed the doll in the back with a fruit knife—I had acted with that reasoning as a basis... No, it was more supplementary.

Well, unlike Ougi-chan's deductions, Ougi-kun's deductions were a bit more sloppy—or rather, it was designed to confuse the person he was talking to and cause havoc. So it wouldn't be weird if it wasn't necessarily correct, but still, that raised some concerns regarding the discrepancy between the construction ability and the drawing ability.

From reading the letter, it seemed that both the Iie-chan doll and the father doll were made by Associate Professor Iesumi alone... Could we just say that "Associate Professor Iesumi was good with crafts but had no talent in art"?

"Oh, something that simple... I mean, that really is mysterious. All right, let's think about it together!"

"You've gotten pretty bad at backing me up. Think back to the time where you were such a patient private tutor!"

"Ougi-chan—or rather, Ougi-kun? He didn't know about the existence of the father doll at the time, right? Then it made sense that he thought that way. But if he'd seen the doll on the bed in the next room beforehand, he would surely have thought something like this. 'This girl looks just like her father.'"

"...Aah."

Instead of thinking in terms of the creator being the same... If I thought about it in terms of parent and child resembling each other, then the "henohenomoheji" face being shared was completely natural... Though it was more of a folk belief that girls took after their fathers.

I'd thought that the "henohenomoheji" face was too lacking in either skill or affection for a stuffed doll made to represent one's own child, but if it was actually an imitation of the doll that was the father figure—but, if that was the case, we'd have to figure out why the face of the father doll was a "henohenomoheji".

Was it skill, or was it affection?

That was lacking—

"—I guess it has to be affection."

A forged marriage for the sake of a visa.

It was not a marriage for money or fame, but a marriage for citizenship, a marriage solely on paper—Associate Professor Iesumi, who did it all on her own, probably didn't even know what her spouse looked like.

Unlike the Iie-chan doll, who she at least tried to raise for two years, she didn't even give a name to the father doll.

All she wanted was a family register.

"Even if you can't draw a good picture, you can still draw a bad one—but something like that is just a paradox for people who don't know how to draw... Couldn't she have drawn on the face of her ideal man, or something?"

"She probably didn't even have any ideals. Or wanted to have any."

The letter had said that it was a simulation for the sake of pretending to be married... Of course, I assumed it meant more than that.

Some special reason why she had to do something like that, like emotional attachment or nostalgia—but if it truly was nothing but performing a criminal act, then it was true that there was no need for ideals.

You could even say it was a hindrance.

Although, even in that simulation, she ended up failing—

"I suppose it means that even before she was unable to love her daughter, she didn't even love her husband. To read a bit deeper into it, she may have used her parents as role models... If she thought that the strong bond between her father and mother was the reason for her long years of confinement."

"...For the sake of loving the Iie-chan doll, she chose to 'separate' with the father doll? Although, since it's a doll, you can't really separate from him..."

Unlike the little bear doll, it wasn't big enough to be thrown onto the rooftop, either... For Associate Professor Iesumi, who had grown up in a cage all her life and never known the world "outside her house", it was probably inevitable that Room 333 had become her whole territory.

Her home, which had turned into a hangout for "bad things" like the former Kitashirahebi Shrine—a 3LDK of swirling emotions.

Her saying she was separated from her husband was not a narrative trick found in mystery novels—it was simply the biggest form of separation she could think of, as her knowledge only consisted of that strong bond between parents. She was at an absurd loss.

"Even though she had no choice but to do so, the fact that she destroyed those bonds from within the cage may have determined the rest of Associate Professor Iesumi's life. Maybe she left Switzerland, not because she wanted to get away from her mother, but because she wanted to escape from her sense of guilt."

Even if she was able to realize her great ambition of getting stabbed by her father after five long years... She surely didn't want to make her mother stab her father or even turn into a fugitive.

"...Ah, I see. I should've asked about that first. It's something that I asked Associate Professor Iesumi about on the roof, though I didn't get a clear answer."

A simulation that barely lasted two years, let alone twenty—with it becoming harder to love the Iie-chan doll, her arriving at separation and finally at neglect, let's just say it was another form of a bad ending different from reality. However, if there were differences between the "recreation" and reality—

"Then who was it that stabbed the father doll? As for who stabbed the Iie-chan doll... Was it Associate Professor Iesumi?"

If the doll-making was not a collaborative effort, but hers alone, then did that mean that Ougi-kun's theory about the abuse and the stabbing was way off, and it was actually the same criminal?

It was that conversation with my junior that became the catalyst for my subsequent actions, so the truth or accuracy of the statement wasn't really important anymore, but...

"I think you can just think that it happened normally. What you first assumed, Araragi-kun,"

said Hanekawa.

"In other words, the father doll stabbed the Iie-chan doll in the back, and then the Iie-chan doll stabbed the father doll in the face."

"...That's not normal at all, though?"

Rather than it being what I first assumed, it felt like it was completely at odds with what I assumed... At that point, it wasn't even a recreation of what happened in Switzerland, right?

It was only when I thought that the "estranged husband" was real that I thought that it wasn't Associate Professor Iesumi that stabbed the Iie-chan doll. And there was certainly a time when I thought that the moving Iie-chan doll had stabbed the father doll, but after reading the letter and interpreting that Room 333 was a crime scene recreation, then I would've guessed that it was Associate Professor Iesumi that stabbed the father doll in the face.

The fact that the father doll moved and stabbed the Iie-chan doll... Well, it wasn't impossible. The reason Ononoki-chan destroyed the father doll on the bed was because she'd been wary that the doll would start moving—"just in case".

Thus, it wasn't impossible to assume that the father doll had already "moved", long before that... Rather, it could even be assumed that being stabbed in the face by the fruit knife caused that stuffed doll to "stop moving".

However, if you went even further... If Associate Professor Iesumi stabbed the doll in the face for the sake of the recreation (?), then the Iie-chan doll needed to have already been stabbed in the back.

The order of events was messed up.

Twisted up, like balloon art.

I'd certainly seen the Iie-chan doll stabbed in the back—in other words, I'd seen the fruit knife. At that point, the fruit knife was in the nursery.

As long as Associate Professor Iesumi was already on the roof of the university building, not moving the slightest bit as if locked in a cage, attempting to commit an impractical suicide—she could not have pulled out the fruit knife and stabbed the father doll in the next room.

Was it a remote-controlled trick?

If she used the oddity that controlled cloth, it wouldn't be impossible... But I didn't think at all that my jacket and ski cap, the clothes in the closet or the carpet, and especially the Iie-chan doll were under the control of Associate Professor Iesumi.

The attacks had been extremely primitive.

It was true that, like Hanekawa said, the most suspicious of them all was the Iie-chan doll, who'd displayed a high learning ability... But if so, it would not be an accurate recreation.

Although, if you told me that there was no need for it to be an accurate recreation, then I wouldn't be able to respond... In the first place, it wouldn't have been a recreation starting from the fact that the country was different...

"You don't have to make it so complicated. Let's assume for a moment that it was indeed a recreation. In that case, what would be wrong?"

"...Well."

I wanted to say that trying to argue about what was right or wrong in that situation was already wrong, but that might be being too critical.

"Are you saying that it's actually the letter that was wrong? It was written in the narration, though?"

"Don't act like some clever reader of mystery novels. Also, don't say things as if the victim is always trustworthy."

It was something I wouldn't say, no matter what.

Narration or otherwise, the content of the letter was highly questionable—even if it wasn't groundless, it was a piece of writing meant to ascend to heaven.

From the beginning, heaven and earth had already been reversed.

It had even said something like she didn't really believe that the abused Iie-chan doll was her own child, but it was highly doubtful if Associate Professor Iesumi really, truly didn't believe that.

Though it surely wasn't a disease where she denied everything.

If anything, there were probably days she knew and days she didn't... Of course, even a guy like me had good days and bad days.

Even if the day she wrote the letter happened to be one of her best days out of the whole year, there was no guarantee that those three days she left the doll locked in the cage were at the same level of energy.

"There were probably some translation errors that came from deciphering from four different languages."

"There's no way. Meniko would never mistranslate something."

"Oh, that's some confidence you have in her. You should introduce her to me, that Meniko-san."

"Eh? Ah, all right, well, if the opportunity arises."

"So you're trying to protect her not only from Hitagi-chan, but from me as well... You're way too defensive of the new friend you made in college. It's overprotective."

However, if the crime scene that was recreated was correct, then how did we need to amend the letter's contents?

If the Iie-chan doll escaping from the cage and stabbing the father doll was the correct version of events—

"Then was the one who stabbed the pediatrician father actually Associate Professor Iesumi herself, after being stabbed and escaping from the cage? As legitimate self-defense—"

No.

More correctly—it was revenge.

"—B-but, regardless of a doll doing it to another doll, there's no way a three-year-old without any accountability could kill an adult, right?"

"It would be impossible even as dolls. But she wasn't a three-year-old without any accountability, right?"

She was a twenty-year-old adult.

Declared Hanekawa—and that was right.

In the letter, she had written it as if she'd been a baby for twenty years, but that couldn't be the case... Like how a bound foot can still grow, a person didn't stop growing just because they were raised in a small cage.

As long as they were alive, they would grow.

Just like me.

"But... Hanekawa... Let me just say this one thing..."

I tried to come up with a counterargument as I spoke, but no matter what, I ended up being convinced.

With the words taught to her by her father, she ensnared her father and prayed for him to "kill her" over five years—but what if her ultimate goal was not to simply be stabbed in the back?

What if being stabbed was just a step in the process?

What if her objective was to obtain the knife—it made perfect sense.

And if there was something else that made sense, then the reason her mother fled... It wasn't because she was the culprit that stabbed the father—the only assumption was that she was trying to flee from her daughter's revenge.

She saw her husband killed by her daughter and ran away... She finally gave up on raising her daughter after twenty years of being there for her.

"There's another way to look at the mother's behavior. She's still on the run in order to cover up for the crimes her daughter committed... As long as she herself is on the run as a murderer, she wouldn't arouse any suspicion against her daughter."

"...So there's still love there?"

"A child will grow even without love. Like me."

She spoke rather defiantly.

"After all, whether she was three years old or twenty years old, Iesumi-san at the time could not be held accountable,"

Hanekawa continued.

That's right. Even if it wasn't self-defense, there was no way that case could be judged, whether under Swiss law or Japanese law.

Even if she was a fake teacher who had illegally infiltrated a national university and was a felon who would be imprisoned without probation, she would still be innocent of that one case. After all, who would remain normal after being locked up for twenty years? Even I had given up after just half an hour.

But Associate Professor Iesumi hadn't been given that "normalcy" since the day she was born... It was something she had no choice but to acquire herself, even if she had to lie to do it.

Experiencing the loss of normalcy was something I'd felt countless times... But what would it feel like to never have a sense of normalcy to begin with?

Locked up for twenty years—

"...Anyway, the last thing would be that. The number one mystery."

"Saving the question you want to ask the most for the end... That's a habit you've had since your high school days, Araragi-kun."

"Ah, because I'm a coward. I'm afraid to hear what the answer will be."

"Isn't it because you already know the answer to the question, even before you ask it? But, go ahead. I love it when you ask me questions, Araragi-kun."

"You love... Araragi-kun? If you're going to go that far, I guess I have no choice but to ask my final question."

"I think that joke is going a little too far for our current sense of distance. I'm going to tell Hitagi-chan."

Oof. Gauging our sense of distance was hard.

How does it go between you and Hitagi, Hanekawa-san?

Anyway, now that I've warmed things up with this lighthearted exchange...

"Fundamentally, is it even possible to keep a human being locked up, from when they were a baby, for twenty years—without letting them eat or drink?"

I wasn't a specialist of child abuse, and of course I wasn't a specialist of childcare... Calling myself a man that enjoyed raising children was presumptuous. However, no matter how ignorant I was, I knew that a baby was a living thing that could die from the slightest mistake... A weak existence that could die even if you didn't make any mistakes.

Could that state have been maintained for twenty years?

The fact that her father was a pediatrician wasn't enough for an explanation... Or rather, I could sense from the letter that she was trying to avoid that question by mentioning her father's occupation.

The explanation that the blade did not pierce the heart because it was so thin was almost comical... If she was in such a condition, wouldn't she have simply died from even the slightest amount of blood loss?

It was unclear to what extent Associate Professor Iesumi intentionally or unintentionally embellished that letter... But it could even be a lie that her father was a pediatrician and her mother was a fashion designer for children's clothing. Those occupations seemed to fit too perfectly, as if balloon artists had twisted them into place.

"If you start to doubt that much, you won't be able to trust anything—but at least for that point, I agree with you, Araragi-kun. In Ononoki-chan's words, 'That's the first time you and I have agreed on something.'"

Unlike with Ononoki-chan, that statement might actually be true with Hanekawa... We'd been having a lot of disagreements because of the misunderstanding of distance, so I'd been preparing myself for the possibility that we might not agree even now, but...

"Yeah. I think she turned into an oddity. Iesumi-san herself,"

said Hanekawa, which was a relief... No, the statement itself wasn't exactly something to be relieved over, though.

An oddity.

Just as how the Iie-chan doll became an oddity.

Just as how the father doll, my winter clothes, and Associate Professor Iesumi's clothes and carpet became oddities—and just as how we turned the little bear doll into an eyeball-attached oddity.

If Associate Professor Iesumi herself was turned into an oddity by her parents—then she would be able to stay a baby until she was twenty.

Indeed.

After all, I knew a young girl that was six hundred years old.

I knew a little girl that was twenty-one years old, and a tween girl that had been used for a hundred years—therefore, a twenty-year-old baby wasn't too inconsistent for me.

If she herself was an oddity, it would have been even more strange if oddities didn't continue to form in her territory, Room 333—if they didn't attack the two trespassers like immune cells with self-preservation instincts, I would think that they were actually sabotaging themselves.

It was a natural protection.

That would explain why I, a slowpoke, was able to make it in time—in other words, why Associate Professor didn't die even though she hadn't eaten or drunk anything for a week on the roof of the university.

If she was part oddity.

Then that wouldn't allow her to ascend to heaven.

Because for oddities, there was no heaven or hell.

"Her parents locked her in a cage and used her as a dress-up doll—that's more than enough to meet the conditions for becoming an oddity. I don't know how much of what she said were lies—but at the very least, she herself has no awareness of this one thing. Once she was out of the cage, she wouldn't have had a chance to use her abilities... After all, if she could use her skills freely, she wouldn't have needed to commit any crimes. It was when her crimes came close to being exposed that her defensive instincts began to run wild..."

However... The best example of this was the trespassing that Ononoki-chan and I often did, but weren't crimes basically about skipping due process and cheating to make things easier? It was disheartening to think that Associate Professor Iesumi's blood-soaked efforts were poured into a crime in order to obtain something that should be taken for granted, like human rights.

It wasn't just her parents. The world, the law, ethics, rules—everyone had neglected her.

They'd ganged up on her, and abused her.

Of course, distributing the fault among everybody was just evading responsibility by faking collective responsibility... Not to mention, she probably had people that helped her, too. Of course with regards to her rehabilitation, but her criminal activities would not have succeeded if there had not been someone that showed sympathy to her. However, even someone saying all these sympathetic things like me was probably contributing to the abuse of someone who was trying to make an effort.

Unconsciously.

If you get involved in a different way; if the person was not someone above you; if you were in a bad mood because you fought with a friend; or if you were irritable because you were hungry—you might find yourself saying that she should atone for the crime she committed against her parents, even if she could not be held accountable; or that it was too much to flee the country based on a strange assumption; or that she should have obtained a work visa the proper way even if it took a long time.

Unconsciously.

"Right. Unconsciously. Rather... Yeah, everything was just done unconsciously. Even if she was conscious of the fact that she was her father's murderer and that her mother wasn't really a murderer, I don't think she would admit it... In order to protect the self, she abandoned it—like throwing it away onto the roof. She became so good at lying to herself that she completely fooled herself."

When Hanekawa said it, the words seemed to hold greater weight.

Words as heavy as feathers, from Hanekawa to Hagoromo.

It could be said that she survived by becoming an oddity, but she couldn't be saved from the fact that the source of the passion that turned her into an oddity was her parents' love. The thing that killed her was the thing that kept her alive—so much so that she couldn't even kill herself.

In that case, when I first spoke to her at the lab, she'd seemed like such a solid, decent adult that I couldn't believe she was abusing her daughter—but that was probably because she felt so guilty about her position that she took great pains to make herself seem decent and solid. Wherever I go, it's that same "using misfortune as a springboard" that I hate, huh.

"A cloth oddity—a yokai like the ittan-momen or the shiro-uneri or the nikujuban, perhaps? Maybe the power to manipulate fabric was a talent she inherited from her fashion designer mother. In Scotland, they say that each family has a unique tartan pattern. Well, when I became the sawarineko, it's true that I never had any dreams or nightmares, but it's still troubling that the person herself has no awareness of her oddity nature."

"It's not troubling. It's her only salvation."

Even though she thought she'd finally become human once she escaped from the cage, if she found out that she wasn't—at that point, Associate Professor Iesumi would certainly give up on trying to live.

And I didn't have the confidence that I would be able to stop her then.

"I suppose we've come full circle, and it's time for the specialists to step in... Gaen-san should be able to at least seal away her powers," I said.

That would be best.

I thought I'd successfully been able to break things off with that friendly onee-san, but it seemed my debts continued to increase... Since I no longer had the opportunity to pay off my debts, a ridiculous amount of interest kept piling up.

At this rate, I'd be forced to pay back a huge sum of money after graduating from college. It was little too late to realize that I'd been set up... But since she could wait as long as four years, I guess she really was an adult. Even though she was dressed like that.

A solid adult, huh.

"Speaking of specialists, Araragi-kun, the fact that you paired up with Ononoki-chan from the start this time surprisingly ended up being the best match. Nice badi—if it had been a 'replacement child' or a 'moving doll', it certainly would have been out of Ononoki-chan's area of expertise, but an immortal oddity is right in her strike zone, isn't it?"

That was a pretty fresh point of view.

It may be a bit rough to describe Associate Professor Iesumi as an immortal monster, but considering her track record of "not growing up" and "not dying" over a period of twenty years, it would not be an exaggeration to say that she had eternal youth.

In that case, we had better get it taken care of before Kagenui-san finds out—that violent onmyouji of justice might be the only one who would enact judgment upon Associate Professor Iesumi, for the crime of killing her father.

What in the world could have happened in the past to make her dislike immortal oddities so much...? Would the day I learned about it ever come? Was it related to the curse she received for creating Ononoki-chan?

"By the way, Araragi-kun. Now that we're on the topic of Ononoki-chan, are you going to tell me any time soon? You've managed to smoothly set it aside, but what happened to Ononoki-chan after that?"

Regardless of whether or not the topic of Ononoki-chan was brought up, Hanekawa somewhat forcibly placed the trolley on the rails of the corpse doll... Many things had happened in high school, but there shouldn't have been any direct contact between Hanekawa and Ononoki-chan.

What an admirable class president, worrying about a tween girl she'd never met.

Compared to that, I was good for nothing.

I'd said that I planned things out, but in reality, I just put it off because it was hard to say... Because, as her client, I felt a sense of responsibility for the treatment she received.

"When Ononoki-chan created that eyeball-attached bear doll... That oddity, it seems Gaen-san got angrier at her than I imagined. She scolded her so much that I thought even the expressionless Ononoki-chan would start crying. I said 'more than I imagined', but I can't even begin to imagine it. Gaen-san snapped."

"Th-that Gaen-san!?"

Hanekawa wasn't acquainted with Ononoki-chan, but she was certainly acquainted with Gaen-san, so even she was taken aback—I was finally able to succeed in shocking Hanekawa.

Surprise.

If possible, I would've preferred to shock her with how much I'd grown—but, well, I understood how she felt.

There had been times where that onee-san had gotten mad at me and scolded me before, but she'd never snapped.

"Even though she didn't even yell at me when she saw me with a reference book that had pictures of an older woman that looked like Gaen-san..."

"Learning that fact makes me want to yell at you for it, Araragi-kun, but I don't have the authority to do that right now, so I'll just stay seated and keep listening. So what happened to Ononoki-chan? Don't tell me... She was disposed of?"

Hanekawa half-smiled and said it as a joke, but honestly, it wouldn't have been weird if that had happened—but rather, you could assume that Gaen-san unleashed her fury for the sake of avoiding that "disposal".

If it had been Kagenui-san that found out about it first, then as the "owner", she might have had to dispose of her shikigami... As Ononoki-chan had said, Kagenui-san was responsible for everything about her, including killing her.

If Gaen-san only flipped out as part of an exaggerated performance, then that would certainly be a kindness that was "typical" of her... But her style of using kindness and anger as tools of communication was rather incompatible with me.

But I'm sure that Gaen-san was defending not only Ononoki-chan but also me, so I had to approve of her way of doing things this time... Especially if I had to ask her to ensure that Associate Professor Iesumi was rendered harmless.

Maybe it was about ten billion yen?

The amount of debt I owed to Gaen-san.

It was as if Hanekawa, who had finished repaying her debts, passed me the baton of the debt king... A helpless relay.

"...Then, Ononoki-chan received a scathing lecture, but got off scot-free after that?"

"No way. Naturally, Gaen-san thought that a visible form of punishment was necessary, so for the time being, the problematic eyeball was confiscated from her."

I never thought she'd actually become an eyepatch character... It was way too visible, Gaen-san.

And, that wasn't all.

Rather than the confiscation of her eye, which would surely be returned to her when things calmed down, I would say this was a much bigger "disposal" from my point of view.

"The order was given for her to withdraw from the Araragi household."

"Hmm. Hmmm. Hmmmm?"

"A restraining order was issued against me and Shinobu... And she was told to leave her current assignment immediately. In other words, this is the end of her long freeloading lifestyle."

It would be a lie if I said that I wouldn't miss her.

But she had stayed for longer than I'd expected... She started in February of this year, so about half a year?

It was another clever thing that Gaen-san was able to do. By punishing her, she was able to relieve her of her current duties... Instead of being sent to the penalty box, she was probably on her way to her next job. She probably couldn't keep such a talented shikigami by my side.

By my side, with no problems at all.

"I see... I'm glad she wasn't disposed of, but I wonder if the restraining order meant that Gaen-san realized the danger of keeping Ononoki-chan in the Araragi household, since she's an oddity that's easily influenced by her surroundings."

"She'd have known that all along. Since she's an onee-san that knows everything... Although you're making my house sound like a danger zone."

"But it is a danger zone, the Araragi household. It's full of land mines, and as land mine committee president, it's not something I can leave alone."

Were you actually called the land mine committee president?

As for me, I was optimistic that this meant that the probation period for Shinobu and me was finally over... But the commander's resources and strategy were yet unknown.

Her true intentions surely numbered three, or four... Or even a hundred or two hundred.

"And so, I gave Ononoki-chan a hug goodbye."

"You didn't really hug her, right?"

I didn't.

I didn't even get to say goodbye... Perhaps she inherited the personality of Oshino Meme, who wasn't good with goodbyes, but after explaining the situation, the corpse doll departed from the house, as if she were only taking a break to go and buy some ice cream. It wasn't like I wanted her to leave in a flashier way with "Unlimited Rulebook"—well, I didn't want Ononoki-chan to leave in the first place, flashy or otherwise.

But, it's fine.

It wasn't like we were saying goodbye for good.

In a hundred years, we'll bump into each other somewhere.

"Nevertheless, after being relieved of her duties, on top of losing one of her eyes, I'm sure Ononoki-chan will be tasked with something even tougher than living in the Araragi household... It's pretty rare to get an ending where nobody's happy."

"Too bad. I guess that unraveling the mysteries didn't serve as much of a distraction. But I didn't come back to Japan just to see you all depressed, Araragi-kun."

So, shall I bring you happiness?

Said Hanekawa with a roguish smile.

Like that of a cat.

"What a vicious joke. You can't just go and misunderstand our sense of distance now. Regardless of whether I was influenced by Ononoki-chan, if I were a land mine, I would've exploded. Should I let Hitagi know?"

"It's shocks me to hear that you're taking it as a joke. I'm a specialist in helping you, Araragi-kun, don't you know?"

"A specialist in helping me... What a crazy specialist. You're not my babysitter. Well, if you insist, then all right. I'll take advantage of your generosity and let you help me."

"Have you thought about it? After locking you in the cage, where could that flying blanket have gone?"

"Dunno... If it was just Associate Professor Iesumi that turned into an oddity, and the stuffed doll was just one of her thralls, then I imagine it would run out of time at some point and turn back into a blanket—on the other hand, if it were recreating what happened, then wouldn't it be in Switzerland by now? Like its mother, who came to Japan to escape from her mother."

"Or perhaps, she went to visit Iesumi-san in the police hospital, sleeping as though she were dead—"

"To strangle her?"

"—To drape over her chest like a blanket, as though it were a baby snuggling up against her mother."

"...Hanekawa, that's..."

It was the most untenable hypothesis she'd made today—it was untenable, as a hypothesis, and even as just an idea.

It was almost repulsive.

Who in the world could relate to such a forced and contrived "happily ever after"? If "there are no parents that don't love their children" were words that contained no love, then "parents are everything to children" were also words that contained no love. Even if it's a baby's instinct to cling to the mother—it seemed like a much healthier wrap-up to have the blanket slowly strangle her.

"There's no way. For people like us, who are far from being bedtime stories... Did we ever once see such a happy ending that was so meaningful?"

"That's exactly why it's about time something like this happened. If the simulation doesn't pursue ideals, then reality will only get worse, you know?"

I suppose so.

Associate Professor Iesumi had been thorough in her simulation of the reality she knew, which was why she'd failed in both her marriage and her child-raising. As long as you learn from reality, you can only bring forth reality... It was an endless cycle of reproduction.

Even if it wasn't there, even if she didn't want it, what she needed to have were ideals.

Even if it's run-of-the-mill to aim for the best and end up with the worst—if you don't aim for the best, you won't even reach the next best.

"But, even if you say that, it's too—"

"No, no, I'm being completely serious. I'd like to think that I'm contributing to a world like that. I want the Iie-chan doll to stop the negative cycle of abuse begetting abuse. I want it to be able to clearly say 'no' to this unacceptable reality. Just as Iesumi-san wished."

Despite being given the name for "helping", it's something I was unable to do[?]—said Hanekawa.

"Now, time for a multiple-choice question. Choose the one you think is the correct option, Araragi-kun,"

she said, as though she was recalling being my private tutor in high school.

"Choice A. While Hitagi-chan is away, secretly go on a date with me without any aftermath. Choice B. Go with me to visit Associate Professor Iesumi to check if the blanket is there. Now, which do you think is correct?"

"...I was wondering what you'd give me, but it seems the difficulty of this is C."

I'm saved.

With those two choices, there was no way I could get it wrong.

[maxiskindahere]

Accidents - Six

ANGST OCTOBER DAY 24, i’m sorry for skipping a whole week but i’m on midterm now

anyways this is kinda rlly bad it’s more like a joke thing at the start but i’m thinking of doing a text chat series for the queens so yk

~

Ships: Araleyn, Parrmour & KatAnna

~

Greensleeves has added Lina, Mum, QueenB, KitKat & TheSurvivor to ‘Ex Wives’

Greensleeves: guys has any1 seen my heelies?

Mum: your what?

KitKat: anne no one has seen ur heelies for the last time

Lina: I saw Cathy with them.

TheSurvivor: Seriously? You said you wouldn’t tell her??

Mum: Why have you taken Anne’s ‘Heelies’, Cath?

QueenB: bruh u rlly made a gc for this bs

Greensleeves: well tht n i’m bored

TheSurvivour: Catalina go deal with your gf

Greensleeves: Lina said only **I** can call her Catalina shut up

Lina: I did say that, yes, sorry Cathy🤷🏽‍♀️

wait

Anne she’s my goddaughter

Greensleeves: you specifically said only I could tho :c

KitKat: it’s true you did.. Anne almost killed Jane when she said Lina and you were all for it

it was scary

Greensleeves: >:0

oh wait

there’s another reason why i created this

i can’t even use my heelies rn

KitKat: oh yeh how did we forget

me n anne got like hit by a car or summ

Mum: YOU GOT WHAT?!

ARE YOU OKAY

WHATHAOPWENES

Greensleeves: lol so we were walkin yh n Kat saw a dog so she went running at it forgttin she was holding onto me with a lead on my skatebboard bc i lost the heelies or whatever and then yk we just BAM

we’re home now but no ones here kinda scary

KitKat: yh Annes kinda like bleeding from about everywhere and her bone is out on her leg

it’s kinda funny she’s laughingbsobhard

Lina: how are you girls typing??? we’re on our way right now, keep Anne awake

KitKat: Anne is trying to use text to speech, i’m using my hand but like my wrist is like gone on my left hand

Anne got the worst, I only hurt my wrist because I fell when she got hit

But we got home so:)

QueenB: i’ve never seen jane drive so fast in her life wtf

Greensleeves: get some nandos please jane oh fucking hell my leg fuck shit bitch shut up kit don’t give me that look

Mum: KATEHRINE IS NANEN DYDIENEY

TheSurvivour: please, Jane has resorted to texting while driving. Is Anne alright? Everyone’s in tears and I can only say ‘she’s okay’ so many times

QueenB: bitch i’m crying for my GIRLFRIEND FUCK CATALINAS WIFE

Greensleeves: wife? when did lina and i get married? did we elope? Kit why don’t people tell me these things

also mood fuck catalinas wife wtf i thought i was her girlfriend why is she cheating on me

Lina: Anne, sweetie we’re engaged.

Greensleeves: Kit I feel like i’m gonna like pass out or something

Mum: HWLWHEOSHWJW ANENW STAY AWAKEKE WE’RE ANSOSG THERE

TheSurviour: I am shaking in my boots why haven’t we called 999?

KitKat: oh

we did!

They just took Anne away in an ambulance like 4 minutes ago, she’s been saying all this shit in front of the paramedics.. they look terrified

*annesobbingoverlossofheelies.vid*

it’s so funny

Lina: WE JUST GOT HOME TO SEE A PILES OF BLOOD EVERYWHERE WHATBTHE FUCK

Greensleeves: guys i have to get surgery or summ but like i’m too hot to be in a cast n my wrist doesn’t even hurt that much

KitKat: Anne ur leg bone is out and ur wrist was run over??

Mum: IT WAS WHAT???

QueenB: well anne’s gonna die

Greensleeves: guys i’m okay

the doctor said i was bleeding internally! that’s where the bloods supposed to be:)

Mum: .

We’re driving to the hospital now, Lina has taken over the wheel while cursing in Spanish

TheSurviour: she also said she loves you and to listen to the doctors or else she will kill you

Greensleeves: oh

well i’m gonna yolo it because they’re trynna make me sleep or whatever

bye

KitKat: i’ll be waiting outside the room for you guys

“Kat! you’re alright!” Anna yells in relief as she hugs her girlfriend tightly, “Where’s Anne?” Catalina asks anxiously, as Jane paces behind her “Anne’s in surgery right now, she wanted me to tell you she loves you and if she dies to delete her search history before Cathy finds it.” Kit informs Catalina, causing Jane to pause, looking at the youngest Queen

“Why?” Jane asks in confusion as Kit shrugs “Annie was really bad though guys, when I went to see if she was okay, she called me Elizabeth.” Kit mumbles, rubbing her wrist lightly “Then she thought the male paramedic was Henry, so... the female one had to take over because Anne was screaming at him in French.” She adds on as Cathy looks at the girl with conflicted thoughts

“Anne is going to be okay though, the doctors promised me.” Kit tries to reassure the Queens, but it fails knowing that with Anne anything can happen

#musicals #broadway #theatre #six #six the musical #six incorrect quotes #anne boleyn #spotify #catherine parr x anne boleyn #katherine howard x anne boleyn #all the queens x anne boleyn #angst october

[realfuurikuuri]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: 

MissingArm!AU: When escaping the cave, it wasn't his tail that got crushed. In exchange for his innocence, he gained a sordid past. The Pure Heart Valley seemed like a good place to escape. To start a new life with a new family to forge a new identity. However, when the past rears its ugly head Mao Mao's forced to step up or be put down.

AN:  Finally back at the end of the century. The reason for no uploads on either the MMHOPH Headcanon blog (it's on Tumblr, go check it out) or on fanfics is because Persona 5 Roya came out and I finished that on Monday at 140 hours. Don't expect things to get to active too soon either, cause finals are next week. Regardless, let things get back to the usual. In keeping with Persona 5 Royal let's make today's song recommendation Beneath The Mask - Persona 5. Follow @spookylovesboba on Twitter and Tumblr and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Direct AO3 Link: XXX

Mao Mao breathed in the fresh morning air. It was good to be outside again. Even if it was just to drop Adorabat off at school. He waved goodbye to her as she went inside, but he didn’t leave right away. He still felt terrible. It hurt to walk, and he couldn't lean too far on either side thanks to the hole. Camillie gave antibiotics and painkillers, alongside an extensive list of their side effects. The painkillers made his insides feel like cold porridge, and the antibiotics made his stomach feel weird. Nausea they caused together was unbelievable.

Nausea made it hard to remember if the school always had three students. He wasn’t sure, but he put aside his suspicion. It was probably another side effect. It was probably amongst Camille’s list of warnings; he couldn't know for sure.  It was way too early for any of this. It was too early for Mao Mao and certainly too early for Badgerclops. He was still asleep, and still drooling on his shoulder.

Mao Mao poked him until he woke up. “Huh, I was paying attention to the movie,” he yawned.

“It’s not movie night. We’re dropping off Adorabat.”

“Oh! Bye,” Badgerclops said waving.

“You’re at nothing, she’s already inside.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good, let's get you back to HQ.”

“No.”

“What? You should stay in bed, off of your feet, doctor’s orders.”

“Yeah, but I want to go out to do something. Let’s get a pizza.”

“Doctor also said no solid foods.”

“Smoothies then.”

Mao Mao revved the engine making Badgerclops tightly grab onto his waist. “You sure you don’t want me to fly,” Badgerclops asked.

“It’ll be fine.”

“A sick man with one arm shouldn’t be driving anything.”

“I said it’ll be fine.”

Mao Mao pulled back the accelerator, letting the Aerocycle fly off. Badgerclops may have had a point, but he wasn’t let anything stop him from enjoying his day.

* * *

Mao Mao was still stubborn as all hell. Not even a trip to the hospital would change that. He and Mao Mao went from one end of town to the other, walking the streets looking for one place that served smoothies. He told Mao Mao more than once that the only food places were Muffin’s Bakery and the convenience store. Watching him Mao Mao hobble around would be funny if he hadn’t nearly died less than a weak ago.

“Hey, Mao Mao!”

“Wha-”

Badgerclops had the small man tucked under like a football before he knew what was happening.

“Badgerclops, I am asking politely, but firmly to put me down before someone -and I mean you- gets hurt.”

“Awww, Is da wittle baby who just got outta the hospital mad.”

Mao Mao didn’t appreciate the humor. He wiggled like a worm and gnawed on his right hand, which probably would’ve hurt if it wasn’t made of metal, so Badgerclops just kind of ignored it. He walked through the narrow alleys towards Muffin’s bakery at the town square. He thought Mao Mao would stop eventually, but if Mao Mao was anything it was stupid. And also stubborn. Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! It was like a toddler using a teething ring. What was kind of funny at first became annoying, and now was just kind of gross to watch.

“You have to stop that before you hurt your teeth, and you and I both know that I don’t know how to schedule a dentist appointment,” Badgerclops said.

“I will when you put me…,” Mao Mao slowly fell silent as they entered the large open plaza of the town square.

“Hey, Badgerclops. What is that?”

“That’s the blob monster.”

“THE WHAT !”

Badgerclops flinched. Mao Mao slipped from his grasp ready to split his head on the pavement, but a cat’s gonna do what a cat's gonna do. He righted himself in the air to land on his feet. A much worse choice. Mao Mao’s eyes went wide from the pain before he fell down on all fours.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry.”

Badgerclops went to pick him up, but he was waved off. “The blob. The blob. Tell me about the blob.”

“Cool it. Camille  high-blood pressure would give you a stroke.”

Mao Mao took a second to gather himself, clenching his fist before letting it all go. “All. Alright. The blob. What is the blob?”

“You should do that more often. You’re a very tense person,” Badgerclops teased.

“The blob.”

“Right, uh, the blob is a blob. Its big, gooey, kidnaps villagers-”

Mao Mao inhaled sharply and he tapped his foot.

“-it’s not all that bad. They’re unharmed, just a little confined. It hasn’t even taken anyone important.”

“Sheriffs? Is that you?”

Mao Mao and Badgerclops leaned forward, craning their necks and squinting their eyes. It was hard to see at first, Badgerclops had to open his cybernetic eye to actually see that King Snugglemagne was now a hostage. Mao Mao rubbed his temples why Badgerclops cursed fate for always making him look like a fool.

“Sheriff! It's utterly dreadful. Could you hurry and get me out? I’d certainly rather you didn’t forgo saving me like last time.”

“I’ve never done anything like that. I do my job, and I do it very well, thank you very much.”

“You did nothing when I was trapped in a net by that ruffian that looked a lot like you.”

For a second, Mao Mao raised a non-existent eyebrow, but his fur stiffened and he reached for his sword.

Aw shit.

Badgerclops stepped in front of the cat. “Let’s slow down. He didn’t mean to insult your son.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just cutting him out,” he said,” if I take a little off the top, oh well.”

He raised his sword up. Badgerclops quickly grabbed the blade before he could bring it down. “No, I mean they blob fights back if you attack it.”

“How do you know?”

“I kicked the blob once and it fought back. It gave me a nasty bruise.”

Mao Mao looked Badgerclops up and down,” where’s the bruise?”

“It was at the beginning of the week. It healed.”

Mao Mao started Badgerclops in the eye with frigid intensity before he sheathed his sword. Thank fuck he believed it.

“So, what do we do,” Mao Mao asked.

“Get lunch?”

Mao Mao nodded in agreement. “Sure. Let’s go.”

“Excuse me? Still stuck! Help!

He and Mao Mao tuned out the king. They turned around and began to walk away.

* * *

“Jellybeans aren’t lunch.”

“Then do you want a milkshake?”

“You know I’m lactose-intolerant.”

“Then hush-up and eat ya’ beans.”

Mao Mao grumbled, doing as he was told. He and Badgerclops sat on the bench just outside the gas station. Muffin’s Bakery was the first, but considering Muffin’s was trapped in the blob (and the broken storefront) it wasn’t open. The gas station was the second choice. It didn’t really offer food. Just the usual cheap snacks, and milkshakes for some reason. The blob had tagged along for what it was worth. Unfortunately, it had to carry most of the kingdom with it.

“Are you going to save me,” the king asked.

“We’ll get to it eventually,” Badgerclops held the drink in front of Mao Mao,” got you a milkshake.”

“I told you I can’t drink milkshakes.”

“Is it like cobbler? A hero's code thing? I won't tell anyone if you do.”

“No! It's ‘cause I’m not a kitten. Adult cats are all lactose intolerant.”

“Can Jǐngtì still drink milk or has it gone the way of the dodo? Might invite him here some time.”

The last part was said quietly, an absent thought that wandered out, nonetheless, Mao Mao’s ears perked up.

“Why would you invite Jǐngtì?”

Badgerclops awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking. “He helped me fix up HQ a bit.”

Mao Mao didn’t say anything. He pressed his fingers together. Thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinky in calming repetition.

“Oh, and while we were cleaning we found this.”

Badgerclops pulled out a golden finger. It took Mao Mao a second to realize what it was. How did that happen? Did he do that? Oh shit, he probably did. He had to stop himself from snatching his father’s finger away.

“You know what this is,” Badgerclops asked.

“Think so.” Why did he say that?

“Are you gonna tell me?”

Mao Mao bit his tongue before he could let the name slip out.

“You want it back," Badgerclops asked.

“Yes, please.” Mao Mao wasted no time tucking the finger in his belt when it was handed back.

“So, do you remember what happened?” Badgerclops started.

“What happened when?”

When I was away.”

“No.”

“You don’t? You don’t remember what happened, how you got those wounds, who visited you? None of that?”

“I was pretty wasted and these drugs aren't helping my head, so what were we talking about before this?”

He could catch Badgerclops grimace at the rough change of subject, but Badgerclops was kind enough to oblige. “Something about Jǐngtì and milkshakes? You think he could drink milk?”

Mao Mao paused to think for a second,”...he might. He’s always had some… issues.”

“I don't mean to pry, but do you mind if I ask why?”

“No it's fine, but uh...what I mean is… well, you know how kittens can’t regulate their body temperature?”

“I did not know that, but continue.”

“Well, that’s supposed to go away by like, age 4, but Jǐngtì still can’t do it. It's fine since it's summer, but I’ll probably give him a coat when it starts getting cold.”

“Seems like a double-edged sword. Can’t stay warm, but can still enjoy cheese.”

“Yeah, the doctor’s say it because he’s a hybrid. Certain genes just don’t mix. He also has an issue with his eyes-”

Mao Mao cut himself short. Why was he being so open about all of this? Was it also the medicine?

“You good,” Badgerclops.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine. Where was I?”

“Something about his eyes.”

“Right, Jǐngtì’s pupils are larger than normal, so he can see really well in the dark, but he squints during the day or in a decently-lit room.”

“That’s one reason to wear sunglasses indoors.”

Mao Mao chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I checked on him while you were away. He’s holding up well. He even helped me fix HQ.”

Mao Mao twiddled his tail through his fingers,”...I’m sorry.”

“What? No, no, it's fine-”

“No, I mean it. I shouldn’t have caused you so much trouble.” Mao Mao choked up.

“I- I shouldn’t’ve-”

Badgerclops placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. ”If you ever feel… down again, just know I’ll be there to help you get back on your feet. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

Mao Mao closed in for a hug. He sniffled but managed to wipe the tear from his eye. “Yeah, thanks…I’m feeling better already.”

“Yes this all very touching,” Snugglemane interjected,” but I still don’t see you trying to help me.”

“Oh be quiet,” Mao Mao said, flicking a pink jelly-bean at the king. The shot missed its mark by a decent margin, helplessly bouncing off the blob.

“Geez, if I was the broad side of a barn that might’ve almost hit me,” the king retorted.

Mao Mao harrumphed and waved the king off. He wasn’t in the mood for jackassery. Even if it was coming from the guy that paid him. He was tired of eating jelly beans, so he began throwing them at the trashcan. It wasn’t too different from flicking a paper football. Although, jelly beans were much harder to aim. Badgerclops nudged him, holding out as his hand as they both began to take aim. Everything was going fine if you ignored Snugglemagne. Eventually, Mao Mao got tired of the nagging and flicked a bean at him.

“Stop that,” Snugglemagne whined.

Instead of stopping Mao and Badgerclops chuckled like Beavis and Butthead. At least they were chuckling until Mao Mao caught something out the corner of his eye. He shoved Badgerclops aside before throwing himself back as something smashed through the bench with comet-like fury.

Badgerclops coughed out,” what the hell was that,” as the dust cleared.

When everything settled, Snugglemane was face down in the dirt. Everything fell silent. Badgerclops inhaled sharply; Mao Mao began to laugh.

Badgerclops shot him a glare. Mao Mao quickly cleared his throat,” must be the medicine,” he mumbled.

Badgerclops was really proving himself because his eyes softened after a second. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

“I threw food at it, so it threw ‘food’ at me?”

“That… actually makes sense.”

“So, what do you want me to keep throwing jelly beans at them? It might get the rest of the kingdom?”

Badgerclops placed two fingers to Snugglemagne’s pulse before giving him a thumbs up. Mao Mao couldn’t lie to himself. It was kind of cathartic to watch the blob chuck Sweetipies a 100 MPH.  With every toss the blog got smaller and smaller. When the last one was free the blob sorta imploded. It bubbled up before shrinking down with a disturbing noise and spreading goo everywhere.

“What the hell just happened?”

“It got too small thus it lost structural stability and collapsed.”

“I don’t know what any of that means, but I do know that everything worked out in the end.”

“Someone’s going to have to clean all this goo.”

“And it won’t be us,” Mao Mao said,” c’mon we have to pick up Adorabat from school.

* * *

They were only slightly late when picking up Adorabat from school. The rest of the children -or maybe they weren’t actually children Mao Mao honestly couldn’t tell- poured out from the school. She hopped down the steps before flying over.

“Mao Mao! Mao Mao!”Adorabat said as she zipped around them.

Badgerclops metal arm extended out and held the child in place. “Woah, there little buddy. What’s gotten you up?”

“The teacher says we’re going to be doing a play!”

“Really? That sounds nice.”

“The teacher says it’ll be next week. You’ll come, right?”

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

Adorabat slipped out of Badgerclops’ grip, flying an inch from Mao Mao’s face. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Mao Mao chuckled, patting her head.

#MMHOPH #Fanfiction #Badgerclops #Mao Mao #Hurt/comfort #Please give this a read when you have the time

[whereyoursoulresides]

Without Words Chapter 7 Update!

This seems to happen every time the winter holidays roll around, but I finally hit a fanfic inspiration streak! So I’m updating and writing as much as I feasibly can. We’re nearing the climax of this fic!  Only 3-4 more chapters to go until the end!

Ao3 link here, or otherwise you can also read it under the cut.

"What is this...feeling?"

Nausea. Inexplicable, terrible nausea. From the moment his vision blurred and his stomach lurched from discomfort to sick, Izou knew something was wrong.

He just hadn't known what …

It was now Saturday. In his old room at the rehabilitation clinic, Izou was sitting in bed, recovering. He had a sketchbook in his lap and a few bouquets of well-wishes on his table.      

Over the past few days, the nausea and its subsequent disorientation had slowly begun to dissipate. However, the nightmares persisted: vivid flashes of grotesque faces, monsters with muscles that were warped like tree roots, and stone columns that reached to a black sky that was smothering as it was endless. A soft coursing of petals that always felt real to his cheek, and filling his blood with a strange sense of tranquility. A garden basking in sunrise; being held by someone warm.

And then he would always bolt awake.

In the quiet solitude of the room, Izou had always felt safe. Even though the anachronism would send his heart ramming or his stomach lurching, the simple tactility of his surroundings would always ground him back to reality. He could understand the things in this world, even if it took some time to remember them. The softness of the cream blankets, the coolness of the metal rails, the brightness of the flora on his bedside table. These were all touchable things, things he knew . Things that grounded his existence, confirmed he was alive.

Even if flowers occasionally filled him with a strange sense of melancholy...

A knock came at the door, and Izou paused from his sketching. When he saw his guest, he perked up into a big smile.

"Saitou-sama!"

The older man was standing in the doorway, in his casual clothes and long, heavy coat. Outside of his usual uniform, he seemed somewhat awkward and stiff, as if he wasn't sure what to do.

"Pardon my intrusion."

Izou quickly waved it off. "No intrusion at all! Please, come in." He pushed the book aside, and scooted over to make room for Kunihiro to sit on the bed.

Despite his enthusiasm, it took some time for Kunihiro to pass through the room. He seemed to be taking great care in his steps, not wanting to upset whatever delicacy he felt hung in the air. As he approached the bed, his eyes drifted over to the flowers on Izou's bedside table in succession: several bundles of classic red roses, a warm burst of peonies and other garden blossoms, clusters and clusters of daisies in every color and size. Finally, closest to him, a clear vase containing a single white rose.

Izou couldn't help but be amused at the slightly disconcerted frown on Kunihiro's brow. "Is everything alright, Saitou-sama? Are you allergic?"

"No," Kunihiro said automatically, his eyes lingering on  the blush-pink peonies. “My apologies, I'm afraid I haven't brought anything to add to your...collection."

"Oh, please, don't worry at all!" Izou immediately waved his hands. "Any more of them and I wouldn't be able to bring them all home. "

Kunihiro nodded, and finally pulled his eyes away. He cleared his throat and opened his jacket to pull forth a manila envelope.

“I came to give you these,” he started, but there was a note of hesitation in his voice. “A collection of summative assignments. I wasn’t sure if you were up to it, but I also didn’t want your hard work to go to waste…”

Unable to help himself, Izou felt his heart melt. It was so thoughtful for Kunihiro to go through all this trouble for him. Even if it hadn't been the man's intention, these assignments would bring Izou the sense of normalcy that he craved. He raised his hand to take the packet.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “I could use the distraction.”

“How long do you still need to remain here?”

“Perhaps another week, thereabouts. They want to observe me a little longer yet.”

Kunihiro nodded. On one hand, he seemed to want to stay. His discerning gaze was trained on Izou, worried. But on another, he also seemed concerned about overstaying his visit.

“Perhaps I should let you rest, then,” he finally said. “I don’t want to be a both-”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be a bother at all!” Izou exclaimed. He scooted over further, to give Kunihiro some space on the bed. “Please, stay. Just for a little while.”

It was hard for Kunzite to refuse Zoisite when he begged like that. So awkwardly, Kunzite remained. Not wanting to intrude on Izou’s space, however, he first thought to sit down in the guest chair - but then realized it was already occupied with a wreath of sunflowers and a teddy-bear.

“I’m sorry, the girls at the coffee shop maybe went a little overboard,” Izou giggled behind him. “Please, Saitou-sama, sit. I really don’t mind.”

Sighing, Kunzite turned away from the chair, and carefully sat himself on the edge of the bed. He tried to keep himself contained in his space, not wanting to accidentally trigger another memory too suddenly. But, the echo of Zoisite’s voice still drifted in the back of his mind.

“Kun-...zite-...sama…”

“Saitou-sama?” Izou’s voice broke him out of his daze. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Kunzite blinked. “Yes, yes,” he said automatically. “Sorry, I was... distracted by the flowers.”

“Do you not like them?” Izou asked, as he pulled the assignments from out of the packet.

“No, it’s not that,” Kunzite said honestly. “It’s just… a bit hard on my eyes. It’s a lot of colors.”

Izou peeked up briefly, an amused smile on his face. “What would you do differently?” he asked innocently. As he waited for Kunihiro to answer, he flipped through the sheets of the assignment, relieved to find all the equations familiar. So he hadn’t lost any memories this time, as far as he could tell.

“...Separate them,” Kunihiro finally answered. “When they are all clustered, they compete and clash with one another in the same space. It becomes hard to appreciate their singular, individual beauty."

This reply surprised Izou, and he raised his head. He hadn’t expected Kunihiro’s response to turn so… serious.

“I think there’s times when they look good together,” Izou countered. “Like in a garden. Then they become concentrated bundle of beauty. A cluster of joy, like the sun.”

“Yes,” Kunihiro agreed. “I suppose I prefer to view them as stars in the night. That way you can see each bud’s personality, admire its individual imperfections. Appreciate its unique charm.” His voice dropped a bit then, and his eyes grew distant, as though he was just realizing something.

“Yes?” Izou prodded, transfixed.

Kunihiro still looked like he was in his own little world. And give it your utmost adoration , Kunzite had been about to say. Give it the love it deserves…

“Like that one there,” Kunzite quickly said, breaking away from his train of thought. He gestured to the single white rose in the vase next to Izou. “There’s simplicity in its elegance. And I couldn’t help but notice it’s the one closest to you. It must be special to you.”

Izou glanced over to the flower in question. “Oh! Yes.” His smile grew soft. “This one was from Kuroi. It’s his favourite flower.”

Once more, Kunzite felt his gut shrivel up and die a little inside him. At every angle of Izou’s life, this man was wedged between them. This man who shared some similarities to Kunzite, but who was ultimately not. He wouldn’t treat Zoisite the same, give him what he really needed, or truly understand him. The flower wasn’t even Zoisite’s favourite - it wasn’t even pink!

Carefully, Izou pulled the flower out from the vase, and brought it close to his lips. Its scent was calming - clean and fresh like a spring morning. It smoothed his anxieties, sanitized him from his dreams.

“Kuroi-chan used to be a patient here, you know,” Izou started quietly. “He woke up one day in a room like this, without memories, with no recognition of friends or family. But the one thing he knew for sure - the one thing he knew before he remembered his own name - ...was that this was his favourite flower. White roses.”

There was a moment of silence then, as the new information seemed to sink into Kunihiro. Izou continued to hold the stem carefully, twirling it slowly to admire its open petals from all angles.

“I’m surprised,” Kunihiro finally confessed, with some care in his voice. “I would have thought red to be his favourite color.”

“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” Izou agreed. “But it’s actually white. White flowers, greenery, the sea. Those were his favourite things, the earliest things he could remember with total certainty.” He slowly returned the flower back to the vase.

Kunzite watched Izou closely, considering if now was a good idea to ask what he was thinking of.

“When you woke up, what could you remember?” he finally asked softly. “Was there anything deep inside you that you knew, for sure?”

Izou paused, and his face fell. His hands dropped as well, back down to his lap, and Kunzite couldn’t help but notice they had started to play a little with each other, a little anxiously.

“I don’t know,” Izou mumbled. “When I woke up, apparently all I was speaking was gibberish.”

“Do you remember what kind of gibberish?” Kunzite pressed.

Izou shook his head. “Nothing anyone could understand. Some names, maybe, but I don’t remember them now.”

“Any persons? Reoccuring dreams that felt right?” Kunzite pushed some more.

Izou shook his head again, now feeling a rise of anxiety in his chest. “No,” his voice cracked a little.

“Familiar colours, scents, places?” Kunzite was desperate. He knew that it was in Izou, it was accessible, Zoisite was there - but for some reason Izou was sealing everything in, hard. “Flowers?”

“Only that I like them!” Izou suddenly cried. Tears rushed to his eyes and heat flooded his cheeks. “Only that I love them,” he repeated, heart thudding loudly in his chest. He brought his hands to his face, hiding his eyes and cradling his forehead. “I- …”

Realizing he had overstepped his bounds, Kunzite’s urgency burnt to ashes, and dropped like coal into the pit of his gut. On one hand he wanted to reach forward to comfort Izou, but on the other, he realized that this was his doing. If he wasn’t careful, he could send Izou to another breakdown.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. He glanced around and offered the tissue box on Izou’s bedside table. “Forgive me, I - … didn’t mean to upset you.”

Izou was swallowing his tears now. But he accepted the tissues, and Kunihiro’s apology.

"It's okay," Izou managed to say, dabbing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Saitou-sama. I'm just...not ready to talk about these things right now."

Kunzite felt even more ashamed now. "Please don't apologize. It was my wrongdoing. I'm sorry." He let Izou have some time to breathe. "If you prefer, I can go…"

"No, it's okay," Izou insisted. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Kunihiro off. His tears had mostly stopped now, and his heart rate had resumed to a more acceptable pace. "I'm afraid I haven't progressed as far as Kuroi-chan has. I have figured out some friends and family, but…" He shivered a little. "But I still get nightmares that don't make sense."

Kunzite continued to hold the tissue box. "What sort of dreams, if you don't mind me asking?" he ventured carefully.

Izou took a deep breath. "Just...really scary stuff. Monsters. Scary faces. Shadows, terrifying-looking trees. The feeling of being smothered underground, buried alive. A crystal castle, and it suddenly grows these thick green veins, and a heartbeat."

Kunzite reconsidered how far he should push. These were clear examples of Izou remembering his past life in slumber. Nightmares to him, but dreams to Zoisite.

Izou couldn't read Kunihiro's emotionless stare, but he feared the worse.

"Kuroi used to have bad dreams too," Izou was quick to explain, desperate to show Kunihiro that he wasn't crazy, that in time he could be normal too. "He had nightmares of him fighting people. Like the sounds of metal clashing, flashes of a gold and red in a uniform. Winning over someone. Possibly hurting them. Stabbing them, sometimes over and over!"

Kunzite sat up straight. "Izou, are you safe with him?" He immediately asked. "Has he hurt you?"

"No, that's not it at all!" Izou exclaimed. "Don't you see? Kuroi figured it out, in the end. The fighting he was dreaming about was his past sword matches. The red and gold he saw? Those were his competition colors. His dreams of hurting people? They were anxieties that stemmed from not understanding what his dreams of fighting were referring to." Izou looked off to the side. “For the longest time, he didn't want to find out who he was. He feared he was someone horrible. But then it turns out - ...he was fine.”

Kunzite took a moment for all this to sink in. Izou glanced back at him hesitantly, waiting for his response, almost anxiously. His fingers drifted up to twist the ends of his ponytail. He pulled so tightly that they frayed out of their curl, like storm-blown hay.

Finally Kunzite spoke, and when he did, his voice was solemn.

"You've dreamt about something similar, haven't you?" Kunihiro asked softly. "That you've hurt someone."

Izou's eyes flew wide open and his heart stopped. How had Kunihiro known? Izou felt his soul wither and he buried his face in shame. He couldn't tell Kunihiro the worst of it. The worst of the feeling that had surged him in the park.

The feeling of triumph…

"I can't shake the feeling I've done something terrible," Izou whispered. Something terrible, but something also so very good. He deserved it, whoever he had been. The rush of peace, tranquility, confidence at the aftermath. The twisted sense of pride made Izou sick to his stomach.

Very gently, he felt Kunihiro lay a hand on his knee.

"Will it make you feel better," Kunihiro said softly, "if I told you that I know of no criminal record or juvenile offenses committed by a Kozakura Izou?"

At this, Izou's head lifted up. His wide eyes tracked across Kunihiro's face for any kind of lie or deceit, but found none. Kunihiro's face remained as soft and passive as the day he first heard Izou's story.

"You- you're sure?" Izou whispered, desperate to believe it. "Really?"

Kunihiro nodded. "Really," he confirmed quietly. "If any such thing had happened, I would have known."

Izou's eyes lit up, and his heart flooded with relief. The dreams must've been something else. He sank back, hand over his mouth as he tried not to cry.

"You are young," Kunihiro continued. "And have a bright and sensitive soul. It's very possible your dreams are your imagination's way of abstracting your past. But that doesn't mean you've done the things you fear."

Izou's eyes scanned over Kunihiro again, and slowly his hand dropped, revealing a tentative little smile.

"You really think so?"

Kunihiro nodded. "And if your friends are any indication…" He gestured to the flowers and gifts all around the room. "Who you fear you were is not who you are now. Nor, who you choose to be." Kunihiro's eyes were so beautifully kind, even if his expression hardly ever changed. "Your choices in the present are what truly defines you."

Izou let his hand slowly fall to his lap, unable to express to Kunihiro just how much he appreciated all this.

"Thank you, Kunihiro-sama," Izou whispered. He slowly glanced over at the white flower in the vase next to him. "Kuroi-chan says the same thing…"

There was a heavy sigh from Kunihiro, and the weight on Izou's knee pulled away and disappeared.

"He is right," Kunihiro admitted. "You are lucky to have him."

Izou turned back to Kunihiro, and reached forward to lay a hand on his arm.

"I'm lucky to have you too."

There was that moment again: when the world grew quiet and everything around Kunzite seemed to pause. Izou's hand felt so warm and lovely on his arm, even through the thickness of his coat. And the way those bright green eyes were gazing at him so clearly…

"Ahem."

Both were startled out of the moment and looked towards the door. Izou pulled his hand away.

"Kuroi-chan!"

The dark-haired man stood in the doorway, this time with his white-haired friend, as well as the receptionist. Kuroi had another bouquet of red roses collected in one arm, while Shirai was bearing a more eclectic collection of sunflowers, carnations and random greenery. The receptionist was peering into the room, and upon seeing Kunihiro, frowned quizzically.

"Are we interrupting anything?" Kuroi asked from the door.

Before Izou could respond, Kunihiro rose to his feet.

"No, I was about to leave," Kunihiro said, before Izou could protest. There was a certain note of finality in there than quelled any chance of Izou convincing him otherwise.

Kuroi nodded as Kunihiro gathered himself. He turned back to Izou just to say:

"No need to rush the assignments. Whenever you're ready, you can pass it back to me by leaving it at the coffeehouse. Goodbye."

The abruptness took Izou off-gaurd, but Kunihiro was already heading out the door before he could even say anything.

As Kuroi stepped aside to make space for Kunzite to pass, the receptionist's brow furrowed some more. Then, a light of recognition sparked in her eyes.

"Ah, you must be -"

"No," Kunzite cut her off curtly. "I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else. Good day."

And before anyone else could say anything, Saitou Kunihiro had disappeared down the hall.

#kunzoi #fanfic #anyo writes #without words #chapter 7 #third life #kunzite #zoisite #BSSM Classic #sailor moon classic #civilian life

[marvelheaux]

T’challa’s Outside Daughter (Chapter 6)

T’challa x BlackDaughter!Reader/OC

A/N : Hey guys, I’m terribly sorry of this was rushed and thrown together, but life has been kicking my ass as of lately and I was extremely scatterbrained. But anyways, here’s chapter 6, I hope you enjoy! - Lanna

Description : Zyra is the first born of King T’challa. She moved to the states and grew up with her Single mother with hardly any contact with her father. Queen Mother Ramonda decided that with all the drama and secrets going on, that it's time to bring the family together .

Story Links:

Main Character + Faceclaim

Character List

She met one of her father's  Exes (oneshot)

TOD Prologue , Chp1 , Chp2 , Chp3 , Chp4 , Chp5 

Warnings: Possible Grammar Errors, Angst, Strong Language

Words: 3K

     The lab was busy today, as educational material was being deployed from Wakanda, to both the Wakandan Outreach  Centre in California and the Wakandan Embassy in New York City, back and forth. Shuri was working with her fellow scientists, approving and testing materials, while Zyra decided to lend a hand in assisting in the Air Traffic Control, while some of the staff was on a lunch break.

Pilot one: "Apron it's Q47-452 ready for pushback"

Zyra: "Q47-452 push at your discretion, call ready for taxi"

Pilot one: "452 roger"

Zyra cracked her knuckles and adjusted her earpiece after giving the pilot traffic orders, whilst making notes of who already taxied and who is about to arrive. As she was going through her checklist, she noticed a different jet configuration from the others that just came in.

“SHIT”. She thought to herself. “When am I ever going to get away from him?”

T’challa, controlling his one-manned  jet, coming from a solo mission with the avengers in Switzerland.

T’challa: "Wakanda Molo ngokuhlwa , Q1-1 is out of thirteen six for 1-1 thousand, requesting runway 10."

Zyra: "Q1-1, runway 11, maintain 6 thousand, altimeter 30.05, maintain present heading"

He was slightly taken aback at the rejection of the runway he is accustomed to landing on, which was also reserved for him and the royal family. As he took the coordinates into account, he noticed a strange female voice on the controller, which was unfamiliar because he don't recall a female air traffic controller being on  staff.

T’challa: Eh, may I ask who is controlling the air traffic?

Zyra froze. If she can run away from the air defence command booth, she would. But she had a job to do. She and her father were avoiding each other for the past couple of days since their awkward first time meeting each other in about 12 years. Anxiety crept up on her at a bad time. She potentially have people’s lives in her hands.

“Be professional Be Professional Be Professional.” she thought to herself again and decided to reply in the aviation language.”

“Zulu, Yankee, Romeo, Alpha....Uniform, Delta, Alpha, Kilo, Uniform…….Sir.”

“Oh.”

“Roger that”

T’challa nodded his head in approval and turned off autopilot to follow further landing instructions. He suddenly realised that he has a lot to learn when it comes to his eldest, especially her capabilities. He knew popping back  into her life at such a risky stage of adolescence was not going to be a walk in the park, especially for a girl, but this will be one hell of a ride. And the rejected handshake was an astounding start, unfortunately.

Back in the controls room, it was 2pm, Zyra handed other the controls to the staff who was on a lunch break .

“You look so cute doing the controls” Shuri said. “you look like that girl from the Austin  Powers movie” She was referring to Zyra’s outfit- a turtle neck, long sleeved cropped shirt, tucked into a high waisted flowing skirt with white knee-high boots.

“Thanks mamas! Y’all give me a stylist, to wear these boujie ass clothes in the house, when Wakanda is fucking 80 degrees. Aiight.”

Shuri just laughed along to Zyra’s rant, while they made their way to their quarters, so Zyra can get ready for cheer practice.

“Girl, guess who popped up on the comms when I was in the controls”

“Who?” Shuri cheekily plopped on Zyra’ bed, waiting for her to spill the tea she already tasted.

“His majesty of course.”

Shuri gasped.

“Did he find out it was you? Cause our last female air traffic controller retired a year ago.”

“He asked and I told him! Shyiieet. AND IN AVIATION LANGUAGE TOO! He talking bout summ ‘who’s controllin the air traffic’ ME BITCH! FUCK YOU MEAN!’ “ They both screamed with laughter and high-fiving each other like the partners in crime that they are.

“Oooo mamas! We have to talk about the outfits for the ceremony before you leave for the competition this week”

“Well I-”

As soon as they turned the corner, they ran into the King himself, still dressed in his panther suit. Zyra groaned internally.

“Hey brother! Nice to see you! How was the mission?”

“It was a bit of a challenge but a success” he said handing Shuri some devices, as she makes a run for it.

T’challa looked to his daughter.

“Hi intombazana yakho”

“Molo wam kumkani” Zyra replied awkwardly avoiding eye contact, looking all over the room.

“You don’t have to call me that, eh? I wanted to- “

“HIIII DADDYYYY!” the sound of Sariyah’s voice cut their conversation short. Both Matthew and Sariyah had just came home from school.

She ran into her father’s arms, totally disregarding Zyra’s presence on purpose. This gave Zyra saw the queue to leave the big happy family alone and go about her way. Sariyah smirked at her charms winning over her father once again. Matthew noticed his big sis hurrying out the door.

“Yo Where you going?”

“Practice.” she said dryly to her brother, before bolting out the door.

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T’challa sat up in his bed, relaxing- wearing a fleece coated robe, bedroom slippers and sipping on some peppermint tea, recovering from his winter mission.He used this little downtime to get some R&R before the annual battle for the crown ceremony the next day. As he watched Lord Attuma from Atlantis giving his global warming statement on BBC World News, the door opened swiftly and caught the King’s attention.

“There you are!” Queen Nicolette smiled sweetly when she saw her husband. She crawled into bed, kissing T’challa deeply, before she sat in his lap.

They spoke briefly about the mission in switzerland and other personal ‘married couple’ stuff.

“Are you ready for tomorrow honey?” She said, while playing with the King’s moisturized curls.

“Eh, I think the third time around wouldn’t be such a challenge, plus baba and I need to have some brief words.”

“About Zyra right?”

T’challa eyes wandered off and bit his lip.

“Speaking of Zyra, ah she’s a doll, gorgeous. So sweet and so talented! I always say that she looks

Just.

Like

you.”

T’challa looks at his baby girl cradled in his arms, as she yawns adorably, whilst making cute baby noises.

T’challa shook himself out of his flashback.

Did you know she agreed to be main dancer for the royal family?”

“Really?” T’challa gave an inquisitive look. “We haven’t had main dancer in about 50 years. Not since Princess Gcobisa.”

Princess Gcobisa was the youngest daughter of King Azzuri, and the baby sister of King T’chaka and Prince N’jobu. She was one of the most exciting, ray of sunshine royals in the family. She passed away from a concussion injury during training at the tender age of 18. T’chaka often told T’challa stories about his baby sister, because they were very close and would often say that Zyra reminds him of her, especially for both their love for dance. Hence Zyra’s middle name, Cebisa is close with hers, Gcobisa.

“By the way, how’s communication been working out for you?” Nicolette continued.

“She seems a little tip toey around me, which I understand, at least she’s respectful. What about you?”

“Well….she ran off before I could speak to her when Sariyah and Matthew came home from school...so I guess that’s a start.” T’challa chuckled.

“And she keep addressing me as ‘my king’ , I don’t have formalities with my children.”

“Then TELL HER.”

“I know but you can’t give up on her. Keep trying. That’s your first born, don’t you ever forget that.”

T’challa agreed in silence.

Later that evening…

“ Practice is over! I’m only half way dead..but I did pretty good so” Zyra laughed whilst recording her vlog at practice.

“Look! We got a second package for this weekend’s competition.!”

With short appearances and lots of laughs from her fellow teammates, she started to head home.

“So you’re actually dancing foreal?” Kailee asked her.

“Meh, I’m gonna try summ. I aint no professional doe.”

“My sister gonna dance too, don’t worry about it tho.

They both said their goodbyes and went about their separate ways.

Zyra skipped into the palace with her bare socks on her feet, aided by her personal guard N’ceba.

“Real ass bitch, give a fuck 'bout a nigga”

“Big Birkin bag, hold five, six figures” Zyra rapped the to the song “Act Up” By City Girls, making her way through the palace, with her rose gold solo beats blasting in her ears.

“Stripes on my ass so he call this pussy Tigger”

“Fuckin' on a scammin' ass, rich ass nigga”

“Sa-”

Zyra jumped and cut the rapping short  when she walked into the dining room to find her father, Nicolette and her siblings having dinner.

“Oh hey..Molweni” She gave them an awkward wave.

“Hey hun! How was practice! Come have dinner with us.”

T’challa looked at Zyra nervously, whilst Nicolette gave him the ‘right T’challa?’ look and pinched him on his leg which caused him to slightly jump.

“Ah, Yes, you must be hungry and tired” he cleared his throat.

Zyra thought about it for a moment before making a decision.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really hungry right now, I’ll just eat in my room and watch Netflix, bye!”

She rushed off before T’challa can say anything else.

“She declined food? That’s a first!” Matthew chuckled.

“She’s probably scared of me ...hmmm” Sariyah laughed to herself and continued to eat her food.

“Why would she be scared of you?” T’challa chimed in, looking concerned.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

He side-eyed his youngest, like a white politician asking for the price of vibranium.

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I’m still annoyed about earlier.

I don’t fit into his life.

Not even if I tried.

He moved on with his new family.

Nicolette..she tries to be nice, it seem fake as fuck, but I can’t blame her to be honest. Imagine your husband hiding a child tho...

So does Matthew. He’s cool. As least he wanted to meet me.

Princess.

But Sariyah is such a stuck up bitch...she needs to pipe down before I knock her upside her motherfucking head.

Princess…

What am I even doing here?

Here we go again with the princess shit.

“Wake up my princess!”

“Huh?” Zyra jumped up with her bonnet almost off her head and eyes squinting from the light.

“Good Morning! Your breakfast is ready and the designer’s are ready for your fitting.

She brain did a windows XP start-up and she realised what her attendant was trying to tell her.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

As soon as Bongani left, she plopped right back into bed. She was still sore from cheer practice.

After she freshened up and ate her breakfast, Bongani was giving her a run down about the events that were going to take place at the ceremony and the protocol afterwards, regarding the winner of the battle.

The palace’s glam team worked on her makeup; and  paint designs on her body, did an african style updo and fitted her for her Wakandan ceremonial dance outfit.

She was excited but nervous, she practiced some moves before bed last night and only hope she doesn’t mess up in front of everybody.

As the boats moved along the water, she moved her body to the beat of the drums which orchestrated her natural stage presence. All the other boats with the tribe leaders and dancers joined in. Her astounding talent in dance made the her fellow family members cheer her on and dancing along. She even cheekily dance on N’ceba while she was doing her dora milaje dance. (yemi’s pieces is zyra’s outfit)

“She such an attention whore! Ugh” Sariyah said in Matthew’s ear, and he laughed at her jealousy.

While she was dancing, she spotted someone that would be awkward as hell to cross paths with. Nakia. It’s very weird because it’s literally the same girl that her father used to sleep around with, when her mother was pregnant with her. Also, she happens to be her friend Kailee’s, older sister.

With that, Zyra’s confidence shot up into the air cause she really wanted to show Nakia that  Nakia didn’t want no smoke.

The waterfall celebration was beautiful. So many beautiful black people in a kaleidoscope of colors.T’challa came out and the crowd started chanting his name as he awaited his challenger. He had fought two warriors from Border Tribe and Merchant Tribe and finally one from Mining Tribe. This time he was bigger than M’baku. Built like a Goliath ass nigga.

“Im just letting y’all know that, if we lose, my black ass is taking the first flight back to NY. I’m out this bitch. Period“ Zyra whispered in Shuri’s ear and she giggled.

“You ain’t going nowhere”

“Aite, bet.”

T’challa eventually won the fight but still got his ass beat. He was still the Black Panther & the  King Wakanda.

Amongst the celebration of his win, came Nakia taking over the dance session. Nicolette carefully eyed her out of curiosity.  Zyra was dancing in her own world but saw that Nakia was looking in her direction and the crowd was egging her on. Kailee warned Zyra that she battle the main dancers from every tribe, every year. But she wasn’t bothered by anybody because she’s an athlete, so she’s very competitive. And she wasn't about to let her father’s ex  push her in a corner. So she stepped up.

Nakia kept doing her own thing while her tribe and the audience were cheering her on. Zyra cracked her neck effortlessly as she secured her stance. She looked to the River Tribe crowd of where she saw Kailee and Brandon giving her the thumbs up. Zyra pulled out the dance moves that she have been practicing in the training room for days. With her moves hitting to every solid beat of the drums, even throwing a backflip to an award winning split whilst looking Nakia straight in the eyes, which made the Wakandans clutch their pearls. Showing her flexibility skills with a flawless heel stretch and ended it off with the majorette style death drop. The crowd went wild. The  crowd clearly chose their winner. Zyra knew Nakia can’t top that one. She learned that from her Majorette dance group at Spelman College. She knows that SHE don't know nothing about that.

T’challa looked on clapping for his daughter. He was impressed. But not surprised to say the least. Raechella used to be a professional dancer and a volleyballer in her younger years. Athleticism  definitely runs in the family.

Despite Zyra giving Nakia a shady stare-down and  cocky  hair flip, she decided to extend an olive branch.

Walking up to Nakia , she held out her hand to her.

“Congrats Princess” Nakia says with a bow.

The bow confused Zyra a bit.

Is she mocking me or being respectful?

“thank you.”

Nicolette soon came rushing over with excitement and snatched Zyra  from the conversation ,  which made Nakia  fall back awkwardly .

“oh my gosh!!! I didn't know you had it in you! Did you know your father was watching?”

Who?

“oh ok.”

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

“Y’all see this right?”

“Zyra did what she had to do! #PERIOD”

“The fact that Zyra beat her father’s ex in a dance battle is iconic.”

“It’s today’s old that I found out Zyra is african. I heard she got Caribbean fam too!”

“Fuck the dance battle! I was robbed of Zyra challenging her father for the throne. #QueenZyra”

“UGH”

“Zyra this, Zyra that. These idiots don’t get tired?” Sariyah strolled down through black twitter and rolling her eyes at the tweets from the video of Zyra dancing that went viral overnight.

“You don’t get tired hating?” Matthew chimed in as he walked past her open door.

“BOY SHUT UP ! NO ONE IS TALKING TO YOU”

“AND WHY YOU SO DEFENSIVE ABOUT HER ANYWAYS? YOU DON’T KNOW HER! SHE’S A NOBODY MATTHEW!”

Matthew couldn’t believe how his sister was acting. Yeah she is a little boujie and rude at times but she was way too bothered about Zyra being in the house.

“Maybe if you aren’t so jealous, you would get to know her too.”

Sariyah laughed sarcastically.

“Jealous of that thing? She and her mama are clout chasers Matt!”

Matthew didn’t respond to her insults, he just slammed his bedroom door on the way in.

………...

*refer to this fic* At Adam’s house, the gang were hanging out for the impromptu friday game night. Adam and Kailee just finished killing each other about who won monopoly, whilst diving into an interesting story time about Zyra and her encounter with one of her father’s bevy of women he dated over the years. (zyra below)

“Speaking of EXES Zyra…” Chioma laughs while biting into her lemon pepper wing that Zyra wanted to steal.

“Let’s talk about the balls you had dance battling Nakia.”

“I’m not gonna gas you cause you’re my friend, but you killed that shit foreal.” Adam chimed in and kailee started clapping.

“I didn’t know THAT was gonna come out of her!”

“ME NEITHER!”

“YASSS!!”

Zyra cringed uncomfortably and adorably at the slightest compliment. While she is flattered usually, she’s not the biggest fan of praise nor extra attention.

“I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as fuck, but my momma didn’t raise no pussy.”

“.....”

“I’m not in support of this, but my sister wants to talk to you”

“Ooop” Brandon sipped his drink.

Zyra was shocked.

“Really?”

“I personally think my sister is a hoe, and what she did to your mom was foul but-”

“Did you just call your sister a hoe?”

“Um..she is?? One time, she tried to tell my father about me sneaking out the house to see my boyfriend, and when I told her that he was my man and I don’t fuck other people’s husbands or baby daddy’s, she punched me and we started fighting.”

Everybody in room burst into the laugher.

“Sis was triggered I guess.” Zyra said, trying to recover from laughing so hard.

“In all seriousness...yeah. It’s up to you though.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“...”

“Chioma I know you can’t finish those wings, gimme!”

*SONG FOR THE CHAPTER (YEMI ALADE - YAJI FT SLIMCASE & BRAINEE)

Molo ngokuhlwa- Good Afternoon.

intom

bazana yakho - my daughter

Molo - hi

Wam kumkani - my king

Molweni - good evening

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS CHAPTER? WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING HAPPEN NEXT? COMMENT !! YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS ALOT! AND REBLOG TO SHARE WITH OTHERS IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER. - Lanna xx

Taglist: @mxrvelous-bxrnes @kida114 @royallyprincesslilly @randomassfandomwho @jadesid @deansbbysblog @pananegra @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard @janell-r @zacarakillmonger @omgsuperstarg @skysynclair19 @amethyst09 @sisterwifeudaku @bezzywazhere @letrecek @champagnesugamama @maddiestundentwritergaines @bribrisback @oceanscorazon @mufasathatniggatho @raysunshine78 @queennanayaa @fonville-designs @chaneajoyyy 

#T'Challa #black panther #Chadwick Boseman #t'challa x reader #t'challa imagine #black panther x reader #black panther imagine #shuri #zyra udaku #t'challa udaku #nakia #wakanda #Dora Milaje #black panther fanfiction

[itsstickball]

Could you do a prompt about Jean going back to see his parents? I’ve always wondered what he would do!

I have lots of feelings about Jean, so this got really long. Most of it is under the cut, but really the only things you need to know is that I created a summer professional Exy league in Europe and Jean, Jeremy and Neil are all playing in Lyon, France. (All conversations are in French unless otherwise specified)

It’s been seven years since he left Evermore.

Twelve years since he last set foot on French soil.

It’s…disorienting.

The steady stream of French that washed over him as they stepped off their plane and into the CDG terminal calmed the apprehension Jean hadn’t noticed growing in him until that point.  Whatever reservations he had about joining the Euro league and playing for Lyon faded away. He was one of the best backliners in professional Exy, and France was his homeland.

Seven years was a lot of time to recover from the damage done to him by Riko and the Master, but that didn’t mean Jean’s version of friendliness was the same as the other players who’d flown with them across the ocean. He nodded or waved in acknowledgment as the majority of them dispersed to catch connecting flights or trains to other parts of the continent until it was only himself, Jeremy, and Neil Josten.

“The manager says there’s a car waiting for us at the South pickup.”

Jeremy informed them in English, breaking Jean out of his reverie. He smiled back at the striker and gestured for him to lead on. The motion earned him a blinding grin from Jeremy and a raised eyebrow from Josten. He likes to think he’s grown a lot as a person since the last time they played together on a team, but it’s second nature to roll his eyes. Josten must be thinking along the same lines because he just answers with a grin full of mischief and good humor.

Jean didn’t necessarily want to go see his parents, but they were playing in France, there’s a full week between games, and somehow Neil and Jeremy double teamed him (though with very different sets of intentions). Jeremy has always wanted good things for him, even if that means pushing him into potentially uncomfortable situations.

“What happens when we go home and you regret not taking the chance for reconciliation?”

He asked. Jeremy was safer not knowing the full extent of Jean’s leash to the Moriyamas, but he was intelligent to take note of the extra hoops he’d had to jump through just to play in the summer league. They both knew this might be the only time Jean got to be in France in a long time.

Jean doesn’t know how to tell his boyfriend that he probably won’t ever be able to forgive his parents – that he was long past needing or wanting them in his life.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jeremy looked like he wanted to say more, but pressed his lips together and nodded. That patience, the willingness to wait and accept his decisions, it was one of Jean’s favorite things about him.

In the end, Neil’s the one to convince him.

The short man didn’t smoke, not without his goalie, but Jean noticed in the few weeks they’d shared and apartment that he’d take a cigarette and just let it burn away in front of him on the balcony. The habit often coincided with Jean’s evening coffee, and they usually shared the time in relative silence.

“I disagree with Jeremy.”

Neil said once they’d both settled in for a minute or so. Though proposed out of the blue, the statement wasn’t all that odd. On the court, he had a great deal of respect and cooperation with his fellow striker, but the two had very different views on the world outside of it. It was perhaps strange that he seemed rather contemplative about this disagreement, but that could be attributed to the setting.

Jean prompted him to continue with a hum.

“I think reconciliation if too weak of a thing to hope for.”

Jean turned towards him at that, interested to hear his own thoughts echoed back so clearly. His interest furthered when Neil continued, but refrained from looking back at him.

“But, I think you should still go.”

An angrier, more raw Jean would have snapped back, huffed out his anger and then belittled the red-head for trying to understand him. Currently, Jean just took another drink of his coffee and waited. Sure enough, Josten continued, staring at the burning ember of his untouched cigarette like it held the key to the universe.

“If my mother were alive, she’d be furious with me. Everything she did was to keep me away from my father, but in the end, it hadn’t mattered. If she were here, I’d want her to look and see what became of me. I’d want her to know that I broke every one of her rules and still made it out on the other side – because I didn’t need them anymore. Before, we just survived, but now, I’m living and it has nothing to do with her.”

He went because, well, mostly because he misses Marseilles. He’s not fully healed or willing to forgive, but Neil was right. He deserved some damn closure – to be able to look his parents in the eyes and say “this is what you did to me” to be able to walk away and say “you put me through hell, but I found my way out of it.” He wanted to see his sister; to know that she, at least, got the normal life he’d been torn from.

Despite his relationship with Jeremy, Neil is the one he takes with him. As much of an asshole and a pain in his side the petit striker continues to be, Jean knows he won’t ask questions – won’t pry in an attempt to help Jean. And sure enough, he’s silent almost he whole train ride, only speaking to be an asshole about their lunch choice or point out Exy posters.

It turns out to be a good thing, having Josten with him.

He probably should have thought beforehand how unlikely it would be that his parents still lived in their little rundown apartment. Neil lets Jean take the place in silently, however and takes over interrogating the neighbors to try and find out where the Moreaus went. He follows the various leads across town while Jean stares at the city he grew up in, cataloguing what has and hasn’t changed. The crime was still heavily prevalent, multiple knives and guns flashed at Neil during their search, but he never flinched away. He found the pockets of good were still there too, though. Little sail boats dot the coast as they ride the bus alongside it, a corner bakery employee hands out free samples to children, a group of teenagers giggle until one of them asks him and Neil for their autographs.

The city was a soothing lull until Neil stoppped walking abruptly in front of him. Jean almost collided with him out of spite, but he doubted the middle-age woman working on the small flower garden on her porch would have appreciated the tussling that would have followed. Instead, he adjusted his stride to step up beside the short man just as he called out to that neighbor.

“Pardon moi, do the Moreaus happen to still live here?”

He asked, his accent having melded near perfectly over the course of the afternoon to fit the natural speakers, whereas he’d been imitating the Lyonnais for the past several weeks.

“Ah, oui.” The woman responded, nodding her head towards the stoop they had halted in front of. “Why do you ask?”

Jean didn’t know if it was a natural proclivity to suspicion or if his parents still hadn’t rid themselves of the habit of getting into business with unsavory people, but Josten smiled and waved his hand at her regardless, making up some story complaining about being given and incorrect address. It was only half-false and the woman seemed to relax.

He thanked her and then led the way up to the door. Neil came to stand a few steps behind, there for support, but not hovering. When he knocked, it was his father who opened the door.

“Jean?”

He took a moment to wonder bitterly if the man recognized him because they shared the same facial structure or if his parents had followed his story in the news. The older Moreau’s expression shuttered slightly when his gaze landed on the three tattooed into his cheek and then flitted anxiously back to Neil.

“Uh, come in, come in! Let me get your mother.”

He seemed to remember enough of himself to offer them a seat and some water. Neil accepted both, picking the armchair furthest from the others and then immediately pulling out his phone. Ordinarily, Jean would have snorted, but he appreciated the semblance of privacy.

Jean still stood when he heard his mother’s footsteps and voice coming down the hall.

“Thierry? What is it? Do we have visit- oh.”

The backliner stayed put until his mother ran out of words and steps. Only then did he tear his gaze away from the scattering of pictures on the mantle – from the small frame in the corner that showed a grinning boy holding his first Exy racquet. As he turned, the whole room seemed to fall silent.

“Hello mother.”

The words sounded odd and formal in his mouth. For a moment, he was thrown back into a media room with red and black walls a smiling psychopath breathing down his neck – ready to pounce should he misspeak. He blinked slowly washing the memory from his mind. Riko was dead.

Riko was dead and he was here.

“Je-Jean?”

His mother stuttered, lifting a hand to her mouth. Where his father had been quietly accepting, pale and meek, Nadine Moreau was all emotion. He had her to thank for his complexion and his stubbornness. He remembered that she hadn’t gone with them to the airport, but that she’d cried in his doorway the night before when he’d been pretending to sleep. He’d thought she was proud and scared that he would be playing across the ocean. He had no idea of the horror that she’d sold him into to remove her husband’s debt.

“Are you -. You’re.” She stopped and started. Jean waited for the words “I’m sorry” to come, hoping silently despite what his heart and Neil had told him. When they never arrived, and the awkward silence of his mother trying to find words as her gaze skittered across his face and frame, and his father not even doing that, Jean put them all out of their misery.

“We’re here for the summer league, playing in Lyon.” He explained, motioning politely towards Neil. “This is my teammate.”

He saw the questions flit across his mother’s face once more. Was this another boy condemned by the mistakes of his father? Turned into a champion by the horrible machine  of abuse at Evermore? Neither player moved to explain themselves or their scars – though Neil had most of the ones on his arms covered by armbands anyway. The striker did offer a polite hello before going back to his phone.

When neither parent offered anything of value, Jean continued.

“We won’t be able to stay,” He said, no regret coloring his voice. “But a friend convinced me it would have been rude not to stop by.”

At that, Neil did snort behind him – though Jean didn’t know if it was at the return of his on-court arrogance, or the oversimplification of their conversation and his conversation with Jeremy. He found he didn’t care much – though it did help to snap him out of the awkwardness that had permeated the room.

“Well,” His mother said, sad but accommodating. “We don’t want to keep you if you have other places to be. I’m sorry Amelie wasn’t here to say hello, she’s out at the university most days.”

Her words were bland, but Jean saw in her eyes that she understood that she had no right to keep him, even if she still wanted to. His father’s eyes, as he escorted them back to the door, were as blank and numb as ever. Jean almost thought, in a quiet flash of anger, to ask if they’d replaced his heart with a machine yet. Instead, he allowed his mother to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and followed Josten out the door.

“Where are you going?” He called when he saw that the striker wasn’t headed back towards the bus stop they’d come from.

“To the university.”

Neil called over his shoulder without slowing down. Jean muttered about tiny assholes and lengthened his stride to catch up. When he was once more walking beside the red-head, Josten pocketed his phone and pulled out something else to hand over to Jean.

“What -?” He stopped himself when he saw that the small slip of paper was a picture. A picture of him and Amelie. “You stole this?” He tried to sound indignant.

Neil just shrugged.

“They have about twenty, I figured they could spare one for you.”

He did not thank the shorter man. But the striker didn’t comment on the way his eyes traced the photo of the two young children reverently either, so Jean figured they were even.

The university was apparently close enough that they could walk to it, though it was definitely well into the afternoon due to their circuitous trip to find his parents’ house. Still, Neil led on, occasionally checking the map on his phone until they stood on the edge of the school’s practice football fields. Jean didn’t bother to ask how Neil knew to go there, he’d seen the picture of Amelie proudly displayed in his parents’ front hall, holding a football and an acceptance letter.

They stood there quietly at the edge of the grass, watching the girls dribble, pass and shoot the ball around. Neil seemed content to ignore him until the players took a water break, and even when he spoke, there was no real judgment in his voice.

“So how much longer are we going to stand here watching?” Okay, maybe there was a little judgment, but it seemed to stem more from amusement and boredom than anything. “Jeremy wants to know what time we’ll be back.”

He tacked on more seriously, showing Jean the text on his phone. Neither of them commented on the fact that it was time-stamped twenty minutes ago. Jean let out a huff and steeled himself to walk over to the group of women. Neil followed until they got to the bleachers and then made himself comfortable on one of the benches. Jean stopped awkwardly several feet away, drawing glances and a few whispers from the closer players. He turned to look back at Neil, suddenly unsure of himself. By either miracle, or design, the striker was already watching him. Less of a help was the single-finger salute he gave in return.

Still, it made him turn around and take the remaining few steps.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt. Is Amelie here?”

He asked, trying to sound pleasant for once in his life. A few of the girls looked at him weirdly, which given his imposing stature, strange tattoo and scars was fair. But ultimately, they called out her name and Jean caught himself craning to try and get a look at the woman his sister had become.

She was laughing and breathless, jostling her teammates as she stepped up to join them.

“What’s up?”

He knew he was standing there staring for longer than was probably polite, trying to take her in and fight down the urge to wring his hand. It was getting to the point where Amelie’s friends had told her he had asked for her and the silence had stretched to become quietly awkward. It had been so much easier with his parents, whom he hadn’t expected anything from. But now, with his sister, he felt like he was standing on the edge of a chasm, with no way to see the bottom.

“Do I know –“

“Sometime today, please, Moreau! I want to watch Kevin’s dreams for the Sharks die in real-time.”

Jean whipped his head around to glare at Neil, who didn’t even have the decency to look up from his phone to catch it. He’d spoken in English, but names translated regardless of their context and the use of his brought a reaction from the footballers. The girls around Amelie bristled, having clearly not liked that some strange, foreign man knew their friend’s name. Jean’s sister looked pensive, however, when he turned back to face them. It soothed some of the anger and panic that had boiled to the surface with Josten’s intervention and allowed him to calmly bear the weight of her gaze.

She seemed to take a deeper look this time, not just mildly interested, but actually searching. After a moment, she stepped away from her friends and reached up towards his hairline, for a notch in the pattern that had existed long before evermore.

“Jean?”

She said questioningly, like she didn’t dare believe it.

He swallowed, his mouth dry with emotion at the gentle brush of her fingers against his childhood scar.

“You kicked me in the head with your cleats, jumping off that swing.” He said in confirmation, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly at the memory of that day. Their shape became more mischievous as she pulled her hand back.

“I’m not quite sure I’ve forgiven you for it, yet.”

“Oh my god! Jean!”

Where shock had barely touched his father and had rendered his mother motionless, it spurred Amelie forward until she practically tackled him. The force probably would have taken them to the ground if Jean hadn’t had years of practice bracing against much more determined assailants.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” She said into his t-shirt. “How?”

She pulled away, just enough to look up at him.

“How are you here? They said you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever be able to.” He said honestly, rubbing a hand over the spot between her shoulder blades, uncaring of the sweat stains. “I wasn’t supposed to, but,” He glanced back at Neil. “Some friends helped me find a way.”

Amelie couldn’t talk for long, they were actually practicing for an upcoming summer tournament, but it was…nice. He shooed her off with another hug and his phone number. She texted him before returning to the field. Jean heard the crunch of Neil walking through the grass to join him as he stared down at the message.

[hey big bro! I know you said you’re busy, but maybe I can visit you before you go back to the states? Go to one of those fancy games of yours or something?

“Ready?”

Neil asked once he looked back up, gesturing in the direction Jean presumed there was a bus stop.

“Yeah.”

He said, a small smile pulling at his face. The day hadn’t gone at all like he’d thought it would, but maybe there was room for both Jeremy and Neil to be right. His parents had no bearing on his life now, no place in his heart – but maybe he could carve out a little room for his sister.

#aftg #tfc #jean moreau #neil josten #jeremy knox #is there for like 2 seconds #which is significantly fewer seconds than jeremy deserves #i love one (1) french boi #jean visits his parents #jean is a big boy now #and has HEALED #prompt me

[miyomiikonran]

OCtober #8 p.2 - Who's your most developed OC?

Oh my, that's a question (as well as next one) that actually made me think quite a lot about my OCs, and I came to quite complicated conclusion that I simply can't choose one OC ¯\_(¬u¬)_/¯ For me it really depends on point of view. How should I even measure development? By number of universes OC exists in? Or just compare all of different versions like it were normal characters and choose the one with the most complicated/thought out story of them all? I came up to such division when I asked Ironic (@ironic-artist) who would he consider my most developed OC, after I already had my own answer ready. To my suprise, he said smth completely different than me which came from that difference in point of view, I thought about amount of universes, he thought about characters on their own.

What were the answers though? I said Takashi&Shinuo, with a bit of more of emphasis put on Takashi, who's more active when comparing the twins to themselves. Shinuo is more about thinking and planning, which often can lead to interesting outcomes and suprising decisions he makes in some universes, but Takashi's all about action, making decisions as he goes and pushing forward no matter what is happening. For example, as I said before in here, Shinuo's very likely to step out of confrontation if he thinks it may lead out to violent outcome or he'll try to put down emotions and talk things through. He often considers someone's motives and feelings first and possible reactions, which can even prevent him from interacting at all, while Takashi ditches that out completely. He reacts immidiately basing on his own judgement only or what he considers important and his stubborness often prevents him from giving up even for very long time till he reaches his goal, of course it sometimes leads him to conflict, but he's not afraid of it at all.

Both of them, as they always exists together (I can't kill my own OCs for real, even if I sometimes think about such tragic endings TuT) have TEN universes they exist in and almost half of them (4) were actually made for them and later expanded to other characters as well. Which kinda makes me want to make a chart presenting my way of thoughts when creating more AUs on their example as they're characters with most of these from all my OCs :'D Maybe tommorow I'll add such thing, but don't expect nothing high quality, I suck at drawing and I'll probably make it in paint x'D

Well, but what did Ironic said? Just to make you aware, Ironic is my ultimate soulmate-creating-OC-shitposting-buddy ever. Most of my OCs were created just because Ironic had another idea on his mind and he knows around 90% of stuff created about my OCs in last 10 years. There's literally not even one person who could be more reliable with such question ❤ And he said that such character for him would be either Circus AU Miyomi about who I talked here, or Sadao, about who I talked here, here and here. It was very suprising choice for me tbh :') While with Miyomi after thinking a minute or two I could agree, as this universe is quite widely developed and Miyomi's story continues a lot after she joins the circus, to the point where we even talked though possible bad-ends for it and created a world dedicated to it called "post-circus" which includes concept of reincarnation and soulmates. It also makes sense as developing her took me around 2-3 years before I was satistied with result and once again I included some details in her story with which I'm very familiar myself, which helped me make it more accurate. Sorry, I can't really talk about details, as Ironic wants to ilustrate it one day c: But I can summ it up as journey of a person who started from rock bottom, by pure determination and will to live turned from victim to offender, criminal, force feared by many. At first, it was just an outside appearance as she was completely closed out and stuck in her past, haunted and tied up by everything she did and lived through, not able to affect who she is or change it any way, but eventually found her way through trauma, in the end finding some peace and place for herself even in a world that seemed to forgot the meaning of kindness and forgiveness. Woah, I awakened my almost non-existent poetic sense :')

But Sadao? It kinda shocked me, because of his origins (random, only for fun kinda rp) I didn't take him seriously most of the time and often added ideas about him or his friends based just on funny sentence I or meme I found on internet >u>" But I can see why Ironic can see it like that, as despite of my wild creation process Sadao ended up as very datailed character, who evolves a lot though his story, I even consider him a type of person I would like to be myself, a definition of happy and healthy attitude. He started as egdy, misunderstood and neglected child, that through many mistakes and missteps learned how to take resposibility for another person at young age, which resulted in him becoming confident in his own abilities and made him able to stand up for himself and others. This bloomed a lot when he gained some space and free time only for himself, making him a force hard to stop once he decides he wants something- he finished school despite his past fails and got to university. He opened for new and other people which got him to reflect on everything he did to this point and make important decision about dropping out because architecture didn't make him happy. But getting to know new people, socializing and developing his relationships did and concentrating on that made him able to gain some peace of mind and eventually meet love of his life. Then all these past experiences helped him make important decisions and grow as person, gain more resposibility and finally see some value in stability. By himself he got to the point when he decided that he wants to finish his studies and create his own family, which was something he always lacked himself and that was kinda the last step he missed to really be happy and be able to say he feels whole, which when I think about it, made it all very wholesome c:

Well, this post turned out similar to some posts from last OCtober, kinda personal and more about my way of thoughts than characters themselves, but it's quite satisfying~

#oc-tober #oc tober 2019 #october #oc #original character #circus au #takashi #shinuo #miyomi #sadao

[kosmosguk]

5 days of spooktober~ #3: purity

day #3: angel hoseok x reader x demon yoongi

word count: 2.1k

summ. it seems like mortal beings, too, can fall from grace. 

warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon themes (mindbreak), yandere themes, 18+, blasphemy/sacrilegious acts, violence, abuse, explicit language, kidnapping

a/n: this was lowkey rushed (so lemme know if I made any spelling/grammar mistakes) because I’ve been super busy and I caught a mild cold because I was outside in freezing weather for several hours, but I hope you guys like it. Less than one week until Halloween <3

You were kneeling in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary, your hands clasped in prayer, and your eyes firmly closed. Your lips moved, softly and then rapidly, and a soft breath left them whenever you closed the last syllable of a word for the prayer. Even then, you could feel the marble eyes of the benevolent statue in front of you on you, watching you with serene eyes as a stone snake wrapped around her bare feet.

“For the strength to resist temptation, and for purity so that I may live clean of sin. Blessed mother, look upon me and guide me.”

You pushed yourself up onto shaky legs. When the door of the chapel shut clicked behind you softly, the building returned to a hush…

Until the eyes of the angel in the stain glass blinked open and the tongue of the stone serpent by Mary’s feet flickered out.

~

The convent was the safest place. As an orphan abandoned by your parents on the front steps of the building, you were left under the care of Benevolent Sister Bernadette and the other nuns of the convent. There, you had grown up, sheltered from the cruelty of the outside unforgiving walls, biblical scripture leaving indents in each bump of your tongue.

It was to no surprise that you had never encountered a man before. The sisters had told you, along with each of the girls you had grown up with, that God was your husband and that looking at a man with impure eyes would put you at the level of sinners banished to hell. So, it was a surprise when the sisters had let in two men.

They were travelling holy men, and they were seeking rest during their tiring journey. And they were handsome young men too, the kind that attracted the innocent-minded young girls of the convent’s school and left them giggling and whispering softly when the sisters had their backs on them.

You were at the back of the crowd, your fingers rolling on the beads of the rosary you kept firmly clasped in your grip at all times. You had no time to be giggling hopelessly about men who had sworn their own vow to God, not when you were only a few steps away from swearing yours. Having safely passed adulthood, you had made the decision to become a sister yourself.

You stepped back from the crowd and moved back to the sanctuary you found within the pews of the old abandoned chapel no one frequented. As you walked away, the echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone grounds drowned out by the hum of frivolously murmuring voices, you did not pay heed to the contemplative gaze that lingered on your retreating back or the lecherous eyes pinned to you.

~

“What was the sin of Eve? What had tempted her to be lured in by the Devil’s words?”

The ear-scraping echo of Sister Antoinette’s voice resounded in the walls of the nearly silent room. You propped your chin up on the palm of your hand, your eyes pinned to the carefully dried ink of the Bible in front of you. You had heard the creation story hundreds if not thousands of times to the point where you had memorized each verse and could recite it blindfolded and upside down.

The same situation would happen once more. After Sister Antoinette’s question, a girl would raise up her hands and answer in the same old way: “Her sin was that she did not know her position in the world. She was to be man’s wife.”

And like always, the words would leave a bitter taste in the back of your throat that you would swallow as you watched Sister Antoinette smile, pleased. And you would move on because moving on was the only way to don your habit and continue living a safe, sheltered life.

One of the younger girls was called on instead. You waited for the usual answer, but this time…this time was different.

“Sister Antoinette, I believe Eve had no sin. She did not want to live a life in which her position would be unequal to man, in which she would be trapped in a role subservient to him just because she was made from his rib. That was why she was tempted. She was not tempted by the apple, but she had been tempted through freedom.”

You couldn’t help the curve of your smile, and you shielded it with a careful hand. There was a sweeter taste in your mouth, but it quickly went bitter at the harsh sound of leather meeting tender palms.

Your eyes were drawn to the outside of the window, to the lush blue sky and the gray walls that shielded almost everything. Even then, your fingers couldn’t stop rolling over the wooden beads of your rosary.

Freedom, freedom…was it worth the cost of instability? In that very moment, for the first time in your life, you couldn’t help leaning on the side of agreement.

~

You were in the chapel again, your knees turning numb on the worn-out cushion as you recited your prayers. You were alone once more, until the soft swing of the door broke the soft hush of silence, and you swung around to look at the intruder.

There was one of the men that the sisters had let in. He seemed kinder than his counterpart, a warm smile brightening his features, and he shook his head softly as you got up to leave.

“Sorry, I did not mean to disturb your prayer. I was simply searching for a quieter place to meditate. Continue on and pretend that I’m not here.”

You nodded silently before turning back and clasping your hands back together.

“What’s your name?’’ his voice broke once more through your peace. “I’m Jung Hoseok.”

Your eyebrows crossed in agitation before they smoothed out. God would not want you to be angry at anyone, especially if they were one of his holy men.

“Reverend, it is the sanctity of the house of God that we as mere mortals of His creation do not dare to break. If you wish to know my name, ask me when we leave. But there can be no more earthly matters that exist while we are in His house.”

You heard him chuckle, the sound strangely dark compared to the light voice he had, and you heard him come closer to you.

“It must be lonely to be in here, no one by your side. How about we become friends?’’

“Hoseok, what are you doing here?’’ you heard another voice break out in your silence. This voice was richer than the Reverend’s voice, a deeper timber that sent unsettling shivers down your spin. While Reverend sounded like warmth, this voice sounded like a chill.

You did not make a peep to answer his question nor a move to look at the second intruder. Instead, you silently got up and bowed respectfully towards the Reverend and his counterpart before you swiftly left the chapel.

~

Your dreams were plagued that night. Soft hushes of low moans brushed your ears, and you felt hands curve around your breasts and brush the place that the sisters had warned you to never touch with impure intentions. Your fingers wrapped tightly around the sheets, a haze in your mind as you panted out hopeless cries to be touched, to be fucked. Your back arched as you felt a tongue swipe at your pussy, lapping up juices as you twitched in lustful agony, and your lips, stretched out in moans, was covered by another mouth.

“Give in, (y/n). We’ll take care of you,” a voice purred into your ear, gentle and sweet and God you were melting.

You woke up in a cold sweat, shivering, and you startingly realized that your fingers had been buried deep within your forbidden heat. You pulled them out, shame flickering against the heat deep in your stomach, and they made a soft schlick sound. You frantically wiped them against your sheets and tried to go back to sleep, but the heat of lust never seemed to cool.

~

You were disoriented when you woke up for morning prayers. You felt something sticky stain against your inner thighs, and your mind was in a haze. Every touch from another human being left sparks that seemed to build the heat of desire within you, and it wasn’t until you were back in the chapel in the middle of the night that you dared to let out a breath.

You kneeled in front of the statue, ready to pray once more, but your hands slipped from their position and slid down until they were pulling up your skirts. Your body didn’t feel like it was yours anymore, and you were slipping one and then two fingers and then three. Your eyes burned in shame, but your body didn’t care. It begged to be touched, and the plea seemed to grow even more insistently when you couldn’t get relief.

“Ah, what a whore you are.’’

Your head spun around to look at the intruder. Instead of feeling ashamed and pulling your fingers out to restore some kind of dignity, you could only spread your legs wider, whimpering for relief.

“Yoongi, I suppose it is part of our fault that she’s been dragged to such a state. Why don’t we help her?’’

Your vision was blurry, but you felt a cooling touch on your feverish body and grabbed at it desperately, trying to press it down to where it was the most hot. You heard a low chuckle, and you only grew more desperate.

Your memories spun together, your thoughts dizzy, and before you knew it, your skirts were ripped off, and you were on someone’s lap with their cock so deep in you that you could only press closer.

“Yoongi, isn’t she so pretty?’’ you heard a voice call out, and a part of you that was still rational realized it was the Reverend.

The man underneath you laughed, the sound rich, and you let out a muffled cry when he pulled you up off his cock and slammed you back down onto it. He was pounding you, and the Reverend behind you was nipping brutally at your neck and leaving bruises on your flesh.

“Hey, hey, recite your prayers for us, won’t you? Pretty little angel, why don’t you—,” you heard a grunt that choked the remaining words,” Why don’t you—fuck she feels so good—why don’t you recite them?’’

Your brain was automatic; you had no more control over it. You could only obey the commands of the two men that you had once perceived to be holy men.

“For the s-strength to—ah...! Resist tempt-tempt…temptation!’’ you cried out as one particular thrust pried open your walls and pressed against your cervix,” And for…for purity nngh! So that I…So that I may live…oh my God, please, please, harder! L-live free from…sin!’’

He was spilling his cum within you, filling up your womb, and you could only twitch as he let out a husky moan. When he finished cumming deep in you, you let out a breath of relief as the heat within you cooled down, but just a few seconds later, it was coming back, and the Reverend was pulling you off the man’s cock. You let out a startled cry between clenched teeth as you were spread back open on another cock.

“Please, please! Ooh, it feels so good…,’’ you were drooling now, looking ever much like the whores that the sister had disdainfully warned you not to become.

You met eyes with the statue of the Virgin mother as you were being bounced on the Reverend’s cock and, just like Eve, fell into the temptation of freedom.

~

It had been years since your disappearance from the convent. Another girl pried open the door of the abandoned chapel and carefully walked in, her footsteps sending clouds of dust in the air. She scanned the chapel building, and her mouth fell open in surprise as it lingered on the stained-glass window that strangely seemed new.

The stained-glass window had a depiction of a young maiden, just like her, with a snake coiled around her neck and a white dove perched on her wrist. Her hands were raised up, an apple the color of blood gingerly clasped in her hand with a bite taken out of it.

Marked on the glass were the words of a prayer:

“For the strength to resist temptation, and for purity so that I may live clean of sin. Blessed mother, look upon me and guide me.”

And as the girl finished reading the words, the door clicked open.

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